#anyways i was supposed to work on my slides to present this to the class tomorrow but...oh well | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hongcherry · 10 months

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pretty please (stay with me) || c.sc | 1

"After being assigned a fashion show for your big senior project, you set off to find volunteers to make it successful. However, when you meet Choi Seungcheol and his unfriendly clique through your volunteers, you realize they’re an unwanted package deal you can’t escape from. Can you handle Seungcheol's obnoxious friends, and can he handle your brash behavior?"

🍒 Pairing: businessMajor!Seungcheol x fashionMajor!Reader (afab)

🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+); Slice of life (!!!), slow burn, drama, fluff, angst; Unrequited enemies to lovers (lol), strangers to lovers, college au

🍒 Warnings: [general tw (won't be repeated in the other chapters)] reader has she/her pronouns (referred to as girl, miss), reader dresses really feminine, reader is not nice, character outfit descriptors, parent/family issues (marital problems), bullying | [chapter tw] “joke” that implies prostitution in a negative way, near car accident (rear end), brief mention of death thru a joke

🍒 WC: 14.8k

🍒 Betas: Huge shout out to my bae, @love-strike, for being with me throughout this whole process, for listening to me whine, for helping me brainstorm majors for OT13, and for being so supportive! tysm 😭 And thank you to @playmetheclassics, @here4kpopfics, @angelwoozi for also beta'ing this series! ty for your time and for your sweet feedback! i really cherish everyone's efforts and brains hehe 🥰💖 i understand this was not an easy task to take on.

🍒 Author's Note: HAPPIEST BIRTHDAY TO THE LOML, CHOI SEUNGCHEOL!!!!!!!!! 🎂♥️ I started this fic in September 2022 and contemplated even publishing it multiple times. I think this will be the first fic I've worked on for so long and published. Also, this is the longest fic I've ever written, so that's exciting! It was supposed to be one long one-shot, but I ended up writing way too much for a one-shot LOL. I'm really proud of myself for powering through and not abandoning it, as I've done in the past. I also wrote this all in past tense and spontaneously decided to change it to present 😪 Anyway, please enjoy the start of this couple's journey 😁

also read here: AO3 | Wattpad

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // next chapter

When people say good students are those who arrive on time, you find it hard not to scoff. Professors should care more about how hard-working one is rather than if they show up on the dot.

Of course, you do try to make it on time, but can you really leave your house looking less than perfect? Absolutely not. Plus, the first fifteen minutes usually consist of professors getting set up for their classes, so you don’t feel like you are missing anything of importance.

Today is no different.

Ten minutes past the official class time, you stroll inside the room. Students are seated where they normally sit, some are on their phones, and others are trying to finish some last-minute homework assignments. It’s a fairly small class, and being in your senior year means everyone knows each other well. Although, most of the people in your class think ill of you and don’t talk to you.

At first, you thought it was a pity, but in the end, you realized you didn’t want to befriend those who would only talk shit behind your back. This is what you figured they did since they were never discreet when they exchanged whispers with their eyes glued to you.

Luckily, you have at least one friend in the class. Quality over quantity, right?

“Right on time,” your friend, Dae, says with a sly smile when she spots you.

You chuckle and slide into the seat next to her. “Class started fifteen minutes ago.”

“It did, but you’re right on time for you,” she explains with a knowing grin.

“Guess I need to be more late from now on,” you tease as you take out your iPad.

The device is a holy grail to you. Majoring in fashion design means all your ideas and creations over the past few years are stored there. When you don’t have it, it’s stored in secret in your house. Maybe that’s a little excessive, but losing it would feel like losing a part of yourself. After all, art creations always include a part of the creator. The device almost feels like it’s an extension of yourself—something too personal for others to peek at.

Dae rolls her eyes. “Or you could come on time. That would be different.”

“Why would I? The first fifteen minutes are worthless,” you huff and open your notes.

“I wouldn’t quite say that,” Dae answers, sliding a piece of paper over. You glance down at it.

Prepare for the annual Senior Fashion Show! Students are to create their own fashion show with a theme of their choice. The show will be toward the end of the semester in the Main Theatre (official times and dates TBD). The project will count for 80% of your grade as this will require you to use all the skills you’ve acquired as a student. When creating your show, be sure to be mindful of the following…

“This was handed out at the beginning of class. Seems like we’re going to have to work with students from outside our department,” Dae comments after she gives you a few minutes to read everything.

So, this is it.

Every senior majoring in fashion design is required to participate. You attended every fashion show hosted during your time as a student here. You were always left in awe, motivated to be a student that would leave behind a name for themselves at the college. You want to inspire the next seniors just as the ones inspired you before.

While this assignment has your body giddy with excitement, there is a part you are dreading.

People skills are not your forte.

Not because you feel awkward talking to new people, but because the conversations always end unpleasantly. Sometimes with back-handed compliments, insults, or them trying to scold you. You hope that won’t be the case while recruiting volunteers.

“So, do we have the class period to start getting things together?” you question once you finish skimming through the instructions again. You’re responsible for a lot more elements than you anticipated. You need lighting, music, a theme, backstage helpers, hair and makeup artists, an advertiser, and most importantly, models. This is when you wish you had a large network. Though, every friend you tried to make didn’t end up lasting. Dae is the only person who has stuck by your side.

“Yup,” she replies. “We’ll be doing mini assignments throughout the semester to help us prepare. I think it’s just a way for Dr. Lim to give us grades so he doesn’t get in trouble.”

“Probably,” you sigh. You are already feeling stressed. Quickly, you scribble down a list of to-do’s in your notes.

“Do you have a theme in mind already?” Dae asks after a moment.

“No, do you?” you wonder.

Dae sits back in her chair, pen resting between her fingers. “I was thinking about something with space? Maybe my main colors will be blue, purple, and black.”

“Oh? Isn’t that what you’ve been doing, though? Don’t you want to try something different?”

Although the question is harmless, the tone of your voice must have rubbed Dae the wrong way. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and then looks at you again.

“Think of it as branding, okay? Why does it bother you so much?” she wonders with a frown. Realizing your mistake, you inhale slowly.

“It doesn’t. I didn’t mean to sound rude. I’m sure your stage will do well,” you reply, forcing a small smile on your lips.

“No ‘sorry’?” Dae asks despite knowing it isn’t part of your favorite vocabulary.

You narrow your eyes at her. “Nope. Just don’t be so defensive next time.”

“You’re insufferable,” Dae answers. “One day, you will be sorry for your behavior.”

Shrugging, you say, “There’s always a chance, but maybe if the world wasn’t so insecure, saying sorry wouldn’t be so wanted.”

Dae exhales disapprovingly at your thought process, displeased with your reply. “Well, for now, maybe try to be more empathetic?”

“I have bigger things to worry about right now. For instance,” you start, a finger at the top of your to-do list, “I’ve got to find someone who can provide me with music.”

Fuck, it’s too loud in here.

The sounds of different instruments being played at once, all emitting different tunes, have a migraine bubbling in your head.

You make a beeline to the professor who is sitting in the corner. She is an older lady, evident by her wrinkles and gray hair. Yet, her features are soft, and the smile she gives you makes you feel at ease.

“Hello, miss, can I assist you?” she asks when you’re in hearing range.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt, but I was hoping you could help me with an assignment?” you wonder and offer her a kind smile, hoping she won’t shoo you away immediately.

“Ah, it’s alright. They’re just practicing for an upcoming assignment today. What is it you need, dear?”

“Who would you consider your best student? Is there a way you can get me in contact with them?”

The professor’s eyes widen slightly at the question. She didn’t expect that. Nevertheless, her gaze rises to scan the classroom.

“There,” she points as discreetly as she can. You follow her finger, which lands on a blonde-haired guy tuning his guitar. “Lee Jihoon. He’s the most talented student I’ve ever had.”

“This semester?” you ask out of curiosity.

The professor shakes her head. “Ever.”

You can’t stop the small disbelieving huff that escapes you. The best student ever? You aren’t sure how long she’s been teaching, but you doubt out of all her time, he is the best. He looks too young.

“Now, now, don’t judge a book by its cover,” she scolds gently. You have to force yourself not to roll your eyes at the phrase. You’ve heard it too many times that its meaning lost its effect on you.

“What makes him your best student?” you question, sight going back to the man who is oblivious to your stare. He sits next to another student who also has a guitar. They seem to be friends from the way they are laughing together.

“His work is versatile and very good. I’m positive he will be the perfect person for your project.” The way she speaks about him makes you believe her. There was no waver to her voice, and her eyes hold a fondness in them you know one can’t replicate if not genuine.

“How long until they have their assignment due?” you wonder, realizing you may have to wait until the class ends before you could talk to him.

The professor smiles. “I’ll let them have five more minutes so you can introduce yourself.”

Internally, you sigh in relief. You’re grateful you don’t have to wait.

“Thank you,” you say before strolling to the man.

As you near, his friend glances up. He’s mid-sentence when he spots you, eyes growing slightly at the sight of you. You’re used to getting looks like that. Your fashion is always dressier than the average college student's. People just aren’t used to it.

“Hi,” the brunette friend says. He has prince-like features, and you almost consider asking him to be one of your models. You give him a small grin out of politeness before turning to the whole reason you came over.

“Lee Jihoon?” you ask.

Jihoon’s mouth parts slightly in surprise. “Uh, y-yeah. Do I know you?”

“No. My name’s Yn. I have a project in a class and need someone to provide music for me. You won’t get paid, but any extra experience is always good, right?” you greet, not wanting to dance around the subject. After all, this is only the first of many on your to-do list.

“What major are you in?” he wonders, brows knitted in confusion.

“Fashion design,” you answer.

Jihoon is silent for a moment. “And how did you find me?”

This guy is more difficult than you wished. You just need him to say yes.

“I asked for the best student, and you were recommended. So, what do you say? Will you help me?”

Jihoon gives you a small smile, but something about it rubs you wrong. “Sorry, my plate is a little full right now—”

“Do you need money? I can give you some afterward.”

You try not to sound desperate. Lee Jihoon is not the only music major—this is obvious by the amount of noise you hear in the background.

But you never settle for less than the best.

You have been looking forward to this project since your college tour here.

“It’s not that,” Jihoon chuckles awkwardly. “I have other assignments I have to practice for, but I’m sure there will be someone else to help you. There’s a lot of talented students her—”

“But they’re not the best,” you interrupt. What else can you offer him that will make him say yes?

“Well, being the best is subjective,” Jihoon counters, voice light so you know he doesn’t mean it rudely.

You open your mouth to bargain with him more, but his friend leans into his ear. The noise from the other instruments behind you makes it hard to hear what they are saying.

Patience is something you rarely have. The longer you stand there waiting, the more annoyed you get.

“Look, you have almost a full semester to get a song done by then. I’m sure you can find some tim—”

“Fine,” Jihoon grumbles as he shoves his friend away. “I’ll do it.”

“Oh,” you pause. You are fully prepared to go down the mental list of how helping you will help him in return. One that will be complete bullshit, but if it gets him to say yes, then so be it. Luckily, you don’t have to.

“Great!” you say.

You aren’t going to give him time to back out, so you quickly retrieve a business card you had made from your purse. It’s easier to exchange contact information, and you never know when you may run into someone important. Being in an artistic field means competition. You always need to have an eye out for something, or someone, that will help you get your name out there.

“Here’s my number. Please contact me before the day ends.”

Jihoon takes the card and examines it. “Got it. What kind of music will you need?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll let you know,” you reply. He nods in response.

“I look forward to hearing your music. I’ll talk to you later then,” you say.

You have half a heart to wish them both luck on their assignment, but part of you is a little petty that Jihoon put you through some trouble. Instead, you give them a wave before turning on your heel.

As you’re leaving, you hear a loud sigh followed by a laugh from behind you.

“Shut up, Shua,” Jihoon groans before the professor calls everyone’s attention.

Music, check. Now, what’s next?

As you make your way down the hallway, you stumble across Dae. She is surrounded by two other male students, none of whom you know. You don’t plan to greet her since she seems busy, but the sound of your heels clicking against the tile catches her attention.

“Yn!” she calls out cheerfully.

You halt in your tracks, turning to see her smiling at you. She gestures for you to come over, so you do.

“Hey,” you say to her.

“How’s your project going?” she asks.

“I got someone to help me with music,” you reply, then glance behind her to see the two guys staring at you. Dae follows your gaze and makes a small “oh!”

“Is that all? Do you have anyone for advertising or graphics?” Dae wonders, her voice seemingly excited.

“I don’t,” you answer hesitantly. Her eagerness has you worried.

“Perfect!” she exclaims, then turns to the others. “This is Yejun and Jeonghan. They’re both advertising majors. Yejun agreed to help me with my project, but Jeonghan,” she pauses to address the man. He has blonde hair that goes past his eyes. His soft features are handsome and almost angelic.

“Jeonghan, would you mind helping my friend with hers? She’s super talented.”

Jeonghan glances at you, but before he can say anything, you ask him, “What are your skills? Do you have some work I could see first?”

Jeonghan looks taken aback. “O-oh, I don’t have a portfolio yet, sorry.”

“Ah, that’s fine,” you say before looking at Dae. “Thanks for trying to help me, but I’ll find someone else.”

Dae’s eyes narrow at you. “Come on, Yn. Jeonghan is really good!”

“Didn’t you just meet him?” you question and try to stop the scoff that threatens to escape.

“Well, yes, but Yejun has been my friend for a while, and I’ve seen his work. Yejun and Jeonghan have worked together as well, and their creations are unique!”

You inhale deeply, eyes roaming from your friend to Jeonghan. He offers you a smile.

“What your friend said,” Jeonghan replies with a small chuckle.

“Trust me on this,” Dae says. “Jeonghan won’t disappoint you.”

You don’t feel at ease agreeing to someone blindly. Dae’s definition of “really good” could be different from yours. Although her work is good, you feel your standards are way above hers. You had planned to ask for the best student for each assigned task, so having been offered a random helper with no proof of their credentials is unnerving.

Granted, you haven’t heard Jihoon’s work, but you were sold on the way the professor spoke about him. Dae, on the other hand, is not a professor and could be biased as Yejun is her friend. Though, you still have a lot more positions to fill, and you need to do so soon.

Sighing, “Fine. You can work with me.”

From the way you word your sentence, it’s almost as if Jeonghan is supposed to jump up and down with glee. He doesn’t.

You grab another business card from your purse and hand it to Jeonghan. He takes it slowly.

“Just so you know, I have the right to replace you with someone else if I see your work isn’t fit,” you warn as Jeonghan slips the card into his pocket.

His eyes lock on yours. “That won’t be necessary,” he answers, not bothered by your comment.

“Oh?” you wonder and quirk an eyebrow up.

“Hm. You also need graphics, right? I have a person for that as well,” Jeonghan says.

“I haven’t seen their work yet—”

“You’re not very trusting, huh?” Jeonghan observes with a laugh. You shift your weight on one hip, not liking the way he is trying to tell you about your personality when he doesn't know you.

“I just know what I want, and I won’t settle,” you answer sharply.

Dae huffs next to you and gives you a gentle shove, indicating you to ease up. That isn’t going to happen.

Jeonghan doesn’t reply and instead takes out his phone. His fingers dance around the screen for a minute before he turns the device for you to see. On the screen is an Instagram account with various posts of different art and graphic pieces. Your eyes drift to the username. by_xuminghao_o. His art is impressive and definitely not an amateur like you half expected.

“So, about not settling,” Jeonghan trails off, a hint of a cocky smirk on his lips.

“I expect you both to contact me before the day ends,” is all you respond with.

Jeonghan pockets his phone and nods. He seems content with your answer even though you don’t confess the art meets your standards.

“All good then?” Dae asks, glancing between you two.

“We’re good,” Jeonghan replies and gives you another smile of his—one you are starting to hate seeing. There is just something about it that seems like he knows more things than you in a cocky, condescending way.

Yejun glances at his watch and then nudges Jeonghan.

“Thanks, ladies, but we have a class to attend. Nice to meet you, Yn,” Yejun says.

You hum in response while turning away from them. Dae says her goodbyes, watching as they leave before putting her focus on you.

“Do you have to be so picky?” she sighs.

“As I said, I know what I want. I’ve waited to do this project for years. It has to be perfect,” you explain and pull out your iPad. You check off music and advertising from your to-do list. Graphics aren’t listed, but you figure it will be a nice addition.

“I understand, but—”

“Just focus on your project, and I’ll focus on mine, okay?” you interrupt. You don’t feel like hearing her lecture you for a second time today.

“Alright,” Dae answers. “I’ll see you around,” she says, walking away before you can say anything else.

With her back turned, you roll your eyes at her attitude. It has your mood lowering, and you conclude you’re done with human interaction for now. You carefully place your iPad back in your bag, then make a beeline to the parking lot, ready to go home to figure out a theme for your show.

Home is somewhere you don’t enjoy being.

It always has this melancholy cloud looming over you. You can never seem to get rid of it completely. Even on the good days, it lingers in the corner of the room, always threatening to float above you. You doubt it will ever dissipate.

Your back is against the headboard of your bed, your iPad resting against your legs that are pulled to your chest. The music playing is too low for your liking, but you know if it’s any louder, your father will scold you for the high volume. Sometimes you will raise it just to get him to talk to you. Though today is not one of those days. You want to be left alone for once, which isn't usually too hard to do unless your sister needs attention. Like now.

“Today is the last day. Pleaseeee, Yn!” your sister whines at the foot of your bed. Her small body is bouncing with desperation and eagerness.

Reluctantly, you flicker your gaze up at her. The slight scowl on your face doesn’t seem to faze her… Probably because she’s seen it so much.

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” you exasperate, gesturing to your iPad.

Seoah frowns. “When are you not? Come on! It’ll take, like, ten minutes. I’ve been looking forward to getting a Fallin’ Flower frap for months! You know it’s a seasonal drink.”

“Didn’t Dad say you couldn’t have any more sweets?” you say and peer down at your iPad again. You’re in the middle of brainstorming themes for your show. There are various words within bubbles, each connected with a line.

“I’ll just get a small,” she explains. When you don’t move, she walks around the bed to stand next to you. Her voice becomes softer, sadder. “You said you would take me. Dad can’t.”

“That was before I got assigned this project. It’s my—”

“Senior project that you’ve been looking forward to since your freshman year, yeah, I got it,” she responds, reciting what you’ve told her before.

You finally look at her once more. “I’ll take you for the next seasonal drinks, okay? They’re probably better anyway.”

“But I really want a Fallin’ Flower,” Seoah pouts.

“Next year,” you offer and return your attention to your homework.

“Yn—”

“Next year,” you repeat firmly without looking up.

Seoah pauses in her begging. You think she’s going to continue, but you hear the soft padding of her feet as she moves.

“Oh, Seoah?” you call out, glancing up.

She pauses by your door and looks up with some hope in her eyes.

“Don’t forget to shut the door all the way.”

“Right,” she mutters slowly, then leaves the room. You wait until you hear the door click close prior to getting back to work.

You sit on your bed the remainder of the day, only getting up to cook dinner for your father and sister. Your eyes feel strained and your body weak, but the sooner you pick a theme, the sooner you can get started.

It’s days like these when your body is mentally and physically exhausted, that you miss your mom. You try not to think too much about her as it only makes the gloomy cloud above your head darker.

Is she happier? Surely, she is. She is living her dream as a traveling journalist. Sometimes you will see her adventures if you peep at her social media. It’s self-torture to do so, but curiosity gets the best of you. You hope one day you’ll have the willpower to block all her accounts.

At this point, you’re having the same conversation you have with yourself once a month. It never ends the way you want.

Inhaling deeply, you finish plating all the food before calling your family for dinner. While your father eats in his office, needing to continue his work, you and your sister eat in silence in the dining room.

Maybe one day things will change, but for now, you’ll have to settle with this.

You are about to knock on the door a second time when no one answers it. You have allotted only an hour for this meeting, so the longer you wait outside, the more you grow impatient. You have set mini-deadlines throughout the semester to ensure you will complete this assignment in a timely manner. You just hope your recruitees aren't going to slow you down.

Suddenly, the door is yanked open. Jeonghan stands on the other side, hair a little damp and a few wet spots on his shirt.

“Sorry about that,” he says hastily. “I thought I could shower quicker.”

“I told you eleven o’clock,” you scold. Jeonghan simply smiles.

“Never hurts to give people some wiggle room. Plus, aren’t you the early one?” Jeonghan leans back to view something. He looks at you after a few seconds. “It’s only three minutes past.”

“Early is on time,” you say as if that is an obvious life choice. Although you’re never really on time for classes, you reason that to be because the first fifteen minutes are a waste of time. This, on the other hand, is not. “Invite me in?”

Jeonghan moves aside and lets you enter. His apartment is tidy for the most part. It seems as if he had started to clean up but gave up toward the end.

“Where’s Minghao?” you wonder when you saw you were the only one here. He’s supposed to be here with Jeonghan, so you can all go over the advertising designs.

“He called and said he hit some traffic. Have a seat anywhere; I’m going to grab my laptop,” he instructs before jogging to another room. Shaking your head in disappointment, you glance around again.

Spotting his couch, you walk over and make yourself comfortable. You take out your iPad and open what you have so far—color ideas, font ideas, and a few mock-up fashion designs. It has been two weeks since you last saw Jeonghan. The majority of your tasks have already been assigned to people, but you still have to find a few more models.

“Alright, so, what’s the theme?” Jeonghan asks when he comes back. He sits down next to you, causing you to bounce slightly from his weight.

You angle your screen, so he can see it easier. “I decided on the four elements—water, ice, air, and earth. The title right now is Pinwheel.”

“This gives us multiple color options,” Jeonghan examines. “Maybe we could have five designs. One for each element and then one with all of them? That would give you a variety of exposure and make the audience feel they’re not looking at the same promo material every time.”

You sit still as you ponder his suggestion. “You don’t think people will get confused seeing different designs?”

“We can make it all tie in some way. You have your own logo, as I saw on your card. We can use that and the same fonts.”

“Okay,” you say slowly. “That sounds—”

A knock on the door stops you.

“Ah, that must be Minghao. Do you mind getting that? I’m going to get my notepad, so I can try to sketch some layouts.”

You nod, setting your iPad down next to his laptop, then walking to the entrance.

“You’re late,” you groan while you pull open the door.

“Oh? Am I?” the person says with a little playful smile on his lips.

Although you’ve never met Minghao, you have seen pictures of him on his Instagram. You expected to see a head of blue hair, but you are greeted with black. Instead of a narrow face, his is slightly wider. He wears an oversized white shirt, jeans, and a colorful necklace. He looks like every other college student. Sure, he’s more handsome than the average, but not by much. Behind him are two women and one man.

“Can I help you?” you exhale a disheartened sigh when you conclude it isn’t Minghao. Meaning, he’s even later than you wished for.

The guy chuckles. “I doubt it, but Jeonghan can. Is he here?”

His voice is slightly deep. You may have found him soothing to listen to if it wasn't for his irksome words.

“He’s busy right now. You can come back in an hour, though,” you instruct and start to close the door. You don’t need any distractions.

The man sticks his foot out to stop you, causing you to exhale annoyed when you can’t get rid of him. You open the door slightly again.

“Just tell him I’m here,” he says, his teasing tone not so visible anymore but still light enough to not sound too rude.

“And who are you?” you question apathetically.

“Jesus,” someone hisses behind him before shouting, “Jeonghan, come here!”

Your eyes gaze past the man to see a woman with short-length dark hair. She eyes you haughtily, hand on the man’s forearm as if she were to push him away. Though she never does. She takes in your attire, and you once again get a look of judgment at your choice of dress. Your white dress paired with a same-colored, opened button down and beaded chain around your hips is apparently not her style.

“What’s going on?” Jeonghan asks behind you. Reluctantly, you move aside so he can see. “Oh, Seungcheol! Right. One second. Come on in. I’ll get those papers for you.”

“Actually, do they need to come in? They’re not staying long,” you say quickly before any of them can move.

“Relax, princess, he’s just being friendly. You know, like when someone is kind, thoughtful, and considerate?” the girl questions as if you’re dumb and makes her way inside despite you standing close to the door. It forces you to move over.

Her friends follow along. Three of them stand in the living room, while the second guy sits at the kitchen bar before pulling out his phone. You watch them with a fire inside your chest. Not only are Jeonghan and Minghao late, you now have to deal with this obstacle.

Just as you’re shutting the door, you see a glimpse of blue down the hall. Finally.

“You’re late,” you repeat, but to the correct person this time.

“I know, I’m sorry! Oh, are they helping too?” Minghao says, pausing at the entry when he sees the group of people inside.

“No. Get in,” you huff and point a finger in the apartment. Minghao enters without a fight.

“Hao!” the second girl exclaims with a smile.

Great. Do they all know each other?

“Hi, Hana,” Minghao greets with a gentle grin.

“What are you doing here?” Hana wonders.

“I’m helping Yn with her project,” he answers and gestures to you while you shut the door.

Hana looks your way, and you can see the distaste in her expression; however, she doesn’t say anything.

Jeonghan walks out of his room with a folder in his hand. “I hope this is what you need,” he tells the first man—Seungcheol, you presume.

Seungcheol smiles and takes it from him. He flips open the folder, doing a quick glance through the papers inside.

“Looks great,” he says. “Thanks for getting these for me.”

“Of course,” Jeonghan replies.

“Hannie, do you want to come to Shining Diamond with us this weekend?” the first girl asks, tilting her head in a way that appears as if she’s begging for a yes.

“Ah, this weekend?” he hesitates. “I have a test on Monday I was going to study for.”

“A few hours won’t hurt you,” she replies.

“Alright, Hajun, but only for an hour or so,” Jeonghan says with a not-so-stern voice.

“Great! Minghao, do you want to come, too?” Hajun asks.

Minghao shrugs. “I’ve got nothing else, so sure.”

Hajun grins widely. Her eyes go past Minghao to see you standing in the corner, your arms crossed and eyes staring daggers at everyone.

She doesn’t say anything, but her look tells you you aren’t invited. As if you are silently begging to join. The thought makes you scoff quietly.

“Cool. You all scheduled your weekends,” you start and walk back to the couch. You turn briefly to Seungcheol, who is eyeing you already. “And you got your things. Can we please continue?”

Your gaze shifts to Jeonghan at your question. He offers you an apologetic look before nodding.

“I’ll see you all this weekend. You can text me the time,” he says while walking to the door.

“We can decide that now,” Hana suggests.

“Or over text like Jeonghan said,” you interject. She narrows her eyes at you.

“Be patient. It’ll only take a few minutes,” she replies.

A few minutes, my ass.

“I’d rather you use those minutes to walk out the door.” You give her a faux smile.

“Have some respect,” Hajun scolds.

You laugh though you don’t find any of this humorous. “What a hypocrite. How about you respect people’s times?”

“I did tell Yn I’d help her,” Jeonghan cuts in sheepishly and opens the door to hint at them to leave. “I’ll text you all later, or you guys can come back in a bit.”

Seungcheol’s gaze lingers on yours as he walks toward the door. Your eyes catch on his as he makes his way into your line of sight. His stare has an unsettling feeling form in your stomach, and you contemplate asking what his problem is. Before you can, he turns to Jeonghan.

“Thanks again,” he says as he lifts the folder.

“No problem. Talk to you later,” Jeonghan replies.

All his friends have filed out except for the one male who hasn’t said a word. He glances at you. You expect to receive another jab about who knows what. Instead, he gestures at your body.

“Nice chains,” he compliments with a smile.

Your eyes widen slightly as you glance down briefly at your outfit. That was certainly unexpected. “Uh, thanks.”

“Come on, Vernon!” Hana yells from the doorway. Vernon gives you a thumbs up, which is uncanny given the situation, then follows his friends out the door.

Once they leave, you narrow your gaze at Jeonghan and Minghao. They’re quick to apologize again and start asking questions about your project before you can lecture them. Lucky for them, your hour is almost up, so there isn't enough time to do that anyway.

Weeks go by with you working nonstop on your project. Annoyingly, you also realize that the majority of the people you recruited to help all know each other. It usually isn’t something to be irritated by, but each time they run into each other, they usually end up making small talk that you have to break up. They can do that on their time, not yours. Even more frustrating is that this so-called Seungcheol and his groupies know them all as well. Their reactions to seeing you are always the same—ones of displeasure. Though the feeling is mutual.

You learn they are all business majors, except for Vernon. Well, he was a business major, but he plans to switch to something else. You can’t blame him. If all the business majors act revolting, you would leave that department as well.

Seungcheol… He isn’t as bad.

You have only ever hung out with him by himself for less than five minutes. Those conversations spur when you’re both left alone after one of your “mutual friends,” because none of these people are your actual friends, abandon you both. The conversations are awkward and never hold any weight. He doesn’t throw snide remarks at you, but his presence still makes you uneasy with the possibility. You’re normally the first to leave because of that. Maybe if he didn’t have those obnoxious friends, you could tolerate him more. You can’t help but associate him with them though. You simply want to get away from them, even if that includes him. Not that you are craving his presence anyway. You barely know him and aren’t interested in changing that.

“Those are looking awesome so far!” Dae exclaims when she peers over your shoulder to see your sketches.

You smile at her and set your iPad down on the table. The weather outside is perfect, given the cool breezes in the heat. It eases your mind, and you feel more creative being in a new environment.

“Thanks, how are yours coming along?” you question and wait for her to angle her own iPad to you. On the screen are various designs, each with a hint of purple or blue.

“Those are neat,” you compliment.

“Yeah?” she says and beams at you. “What about this one? I think the shoulder looks a little weird.”

You reach over, using two fingers to zoom in on the screen to examine it.

“Maybe just lower this,” you gesture on the screen, careful as to not move the screen on accident. “You could take this part out too and make it asymmetrical.”

Dae hums, lips pursed in thought. “I’ll try it. I guess I won’t really know until it’s on someone.”

You nod in agreement before focusing on your designs again. After a while, Dae excuses herself from your homework session. She had planned to meet with one of her helpers. You bid her a quick goodbye.

Ten minutes pass when you see someone standing in front of your table, blocking your sunlight. Your eyes rise to see who it is.

“Hi,” Seungcheol greets.

You straighten your posture upon seeing him. He wears a basic navy suit that fits him well. To your surprise, it actually looks decent on him. Your eyes dart around him to see if any of his friends came.

“Just me this time,” he answers the question in your head.

“What is it you need?” you ask blankly.

“Must I need something?” he retorts.

You suppress the eye roll you want to give him. “Well, I’m sure you didn’t come here to tell me about your day.”

“I can if you want,” he responds, then to your utter dread, he sits down across from you. From the position he is sitting at, the breeze is blowing his hair forward and into his face. He raises a hand to push it back, but it’s no use.

“You can spare me. Tell me what you want and go,” you instruct. This is the first time he has approached you—and alone, for that matter. You don’t want to make it a regular thing.

“Always straight to the point,” he chuckles.

“I just don’t like my time being wasted,” you explain.

“So, I’m wasting your time now?” His eyebrow quirks up.

“Should I spell it out for you?” you scoff. It should be obvious that you don’t feel like talking to him.

“You can try, but do you know how to spell it?” he stares at you through the hair on his face. Even though you can’t see him clearly, you can tell he has a challenging gleam in his eyes.

“At this point, I think you just came to bother me,” you sulk.

He smirks at you. “I didn’t, but it is a little fun to see your feathers ruffled.”

“They’re perfectly content being unruffled.”

Seungcheol chuckles at your response. He pushes his hair back, but this time he rests his hand against his head, keeping his hair in place. His elbow is propped on the table while his other arm lays flat on the surface.

All the times you have seen him, his hair has covered part of his forehead. Now, it’s all exposed, and you feel you can see him. Maybe it’s because he’s donning a suit for once, but he looks almost… handsome like this—dressed formally with a small glint in his eyes and his lips spread in a gentle smile.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he replies. “I think you need to have more fun.”

Well, he was handsome until he opened his mouth.

“I don’t need a stranger telling me how to live my life,” you say.

“A stranger? I would think we’re at least acquaintances,” he frowns.

“You only see me because your friends are helping me. Speaking of, is that why you’re here? Does it have anything to do with one of them?”

Seungcheol bites his bottom lip, and you can’t stop your eyes from lowering to his mouth.

“Maybe,” he answers slowly. Your eyes snap back to his when he speaks. He gives you a knowing smile that has you shifting in your seat. You had only looked at his lips because he brought attention to them. Nothing more.

“Are we playing twenty questions?” you groan, finally unleashing the eye roll you have been trying not to do.

“We can,” Seungcheol says with a shrug. “You asked three already—more if you start from the time I sat down.”

Exhaling a deep breath, you put your forehead on the hand that’s propped on the table. The conversation is slowly draining your energy. The need to be alone becomes stronger with each second.

“Seungcheol,” you warn. You are not about to play a guessing game with this man. “Please.”

“Oh, so that word is in your vocabulary.”

“Yes. Would you like me to use it in a sentence?” you question, pitch raised as if you’re talking to a toddler. You lift your head to glare at him.

“Sure,” he smirks and leans forward. He still holds his hair back and this time, you can really see the way he is goading you.

“Please fuck off,” you grin widely. Your head tilts to the side as you push your arms together to act overly cute.

“Please make me,” he counters. The smirk he wears is still plastered on his lips.

“If we weren’t in public, I would,” you say, voice returning to normal as you relax your body—the cute act over.

“Oh? How?” he chuckles. From the way he looks at you, you know his mind has gone elsewhere.

You push at the arm that is stretched across the table. “Because I would rather not get caught for murder, you pervert.”

Seungcheol laughs and sits back, letting his hair fall back into his eyes. It’s the first time you notice he has dimples. Your first impression is that they are cute, but you quickly recall who they belonged to and shove that thought from your mind.

��Seokmin wanted to let you know he lost your card,” he finally discloses. “Asked if you could give him another.”

“If he lost a simple card, is he really reliable?” you sigh as you grab another from your purse.

“The good news is those stage lights are so big, he won’t be able to lose those,” he says, taking the card from your hand.

“Thankfully,” you mutter. “I hope you’re better than Seokmin at not losing things.”

“I’ll get this to him, don’t worry,” he replies and puts the card in his suit jacket. You want to ask why he is wearing that, but that will mean you will prolong this conversation. Fortunately for you, he starts to stand up before you succumb to the temptation.

“Thanks for the talk,” he says as if you had a choice. “I’ll see you around.”

You would have doubted that, but you know that won’t be true.

The second time Seungcheol approaches you by himself is a few days later when he catches you exiting a building he is approaching.

“Don’t tell me someone else lost my card as well,” you say after he calls your name. You readjust your bag on your shoulder as you wait for his response.

“About that,” he starts sheepishly.

You put your weight on one hip and cross your arms, and set your mouth in a straight line. You wait for him to tell you who is the perpetrator.

“I may have left your card in my suit jacket when I washed it.”

Well, that explains why you haven’t received a message from Seokmin yet.

“Seriously, Seungcheol?” you exasperate.

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” he says, lips pouting and eyebrows angled.

Shaking your head, you retrieve another card. You make a mental note to restock later as you are running out.

Seungcheol reaches out to grab it from you, but you quickly pull back.

“Put this in your bag,” you instruct.

You slowly give him the card and watch as he slings his bag around to his front. He makes a show of unzipping one of the front pockets and sliding it inside.

“Done,” he says, acting like he should be rewarded for doing as he was told.

“Good. Is that all?” you wonder. You’ve just finished your last class of the day, and all you want to do is climb into bed.

“Yes.”

Seeing no need to continue the conversation, you start walking in the direction of the parking lot.

“Great. Bye, Seungcheol,” you say over your shoulder.

“Hey, wait,” he says quickly, walking briskly to be by your side. “We’re going in the same direction.”

You peer up at him momentarily. “That doesn’t mean we have to walk together.”

“You said before we’re strangers. This would help us not be that anymore,” he shrugs casually.

“I never said I wanted that,” you reply flatly.

“It might benefit us since we’ll have to see each other a lot.”

“Is that so?” you sigh sadly.

Seungcheol smiles at you before shoving his hands in his pockets. “You did ask my friends to help you.”

“Well, if I knew you were a package deal, I wouldn’t have.”

“Come on. I’m not that bad.”

Sighing, you slow your steps to look at him better. He stops next to you, awaiting your response. His gaze is hopeful, but you’re not sure why.

“I’ll agree if you leave me alone,” you finally say.

Seungcheol’s lips dip in a frown. “I’ll get you to admit it one day.”

He starts to walk again before you can reply. Now is your chance to let him get a few feet from you. You have the opportunity to finally end this conversation you’ve been dreading. Though, for some strange reason, your feet quickly move on their own accord.

Seungcheol’s steps are small, and you catch up with him easily. Neither of you says a word, but you can see a hint of a smile on his lips.

Instead of parting ways once you reach the parking lot, he follows you to your car. Something about it being dangerous for you to walk to it alone, even though it’s light out.

“Yn?” he says to catch your attention when you open your door. You turn and give a small “hm?” in response.

“My friends and I plan to go to this poetry lounge in two weeks. Would you want to come?” he asks. You aren’t sure why he appears to be anxious.

The shock you feel must be evident on your face because Seungcheol’s apprehensive expression relaxes into a gentle smile.

“Business friends or our ‘mutual ones’?” The idea doesn't sound so bad if you are hanging out with the people who are helping you. Although you have your issues with them, they aren’t that bad to be around if you’re being honest.

“Business.”

That’s not what you want to hear.

“Do your friends know you’re asking me this?”

Seungcheol shakes his head. “No, but I don’t need their permission. What do you say?”

You can’t recall being invited to a night out with someone other than Dae. If you were to go out without Dae, it would be with your family or for a class assignment. To be invited to a place by Seungcheol, out of all people, catches you off guard.

Despite having an opportunity for a different change of pace, you answer, “No.”

“No?” he asks, perplexed.

“Your friends don’t like me, Seungcheol,” you explain matter-of-factly through a sigh, leaning against your open door.

“They just like to tease you. I’ll talk to them before,” he explains.

Tease is a funny way to describe it, you think.

“I don’t need you fighting my battles,” you answer, referring to the latter part of his reply.

“Still. I want you to enjoy yourself. You’ve probably been glued to that project of yours. Step away for a bit,” he reasons.

He isn’t wrong. Your focus has solely been on the project. Of course, you have other classes, but you aren’t putting as much effort into them as you are this one.

“I’ll pick you up and pay for any expenses,” he offers. The more he talks, the more taken aback you are. You figured he’d drop the offer once you rejected him. From every interaction you’ve had with these “friends,” it never ends well. You doubt this will be any different. Regardless, something in you feels a little… honored he is so adamant about getting you to come.

Thus, hesitantly, “Fine.”

Seungcheol’s face breaks out in a grin. “Okay. I can give you my number, so you can text me your address.”

He starts to pull out his phone, but you stop him.

“No need,” you say. At Seungcheol’s confused expression, you continued with a faint smile, “You have my card.”

His mouth opens briefly in realization before the corners are pulled up.

“One step ahead, I see,” he teases, pulling it out to inspect it as if confirming your number is there. You suppose he may think you’re lying to get out of going.

“I’ll text you then,” he concludes and places the card back.

“Alright,” you say, shifting your weight. You aren’t sure if he wants to say anything else. Why are you giving him the time to? You have already given him enough of it.

Sensing your readiness to leave, he waves as he slowly takes steps backward. “Drive safely, Yn.”

“You too, Seungcheol.”

You climb into your car’s seat, turn on the engine, and watch as he makes his way through the maze of cars until he is out of sight.

That Friday comes sooner than you would’ve liked.

Throughout the times you had met with your “friends,” you had bumped into Seungcheol one-third of the time. Sometimes, you were left alone with him again. Each interaction you had with him became easier the more you talked to him.

Dare you to admit; his presence wasn’t actually teeth-gritting anymore? At least when he was alone, you didn’t have to deal with his business friends. Despite him not usually laughing at their jokes, he never really stepped in to stop them teasing you at first. Maybe only a few times when he felt things got too heated. He wasn’t your best friend, but part of you did hope he would’ve said something.

Each time he didn’t, you felt your disappointment rise. He apologized on their behalf constantly, but his apology meant nothing when they kept insulting you. However, lately, he has been stepping in sooner. Although you didn’t want him fighting your battles initially, some things you couldn’t do alone. One thing you and his business friends had in common was that no one really knew where the sudden change of attitude came from. For once, you didn’t complain, though.

You’re tempted to cancel this outing, but talking to Seungcheol a few days ago made you realize he was a little more excited than he was letting on. The reason is unknown to you—maybe he really likes poetry lounges—but you’d feel slightly guilty if you ditch last minute.

It’s not like you haven’t been out on a Friday night with people, yet your heart is beating rapidly in your chest. You have changed about six times, exchanging your accessories with each outfit. Normally, you would dress up more, but these aren’t your friends you’re about to hang out with. They are Seungcheol’s—business majors who think skirts more than two inches above the knees mean you��re a slut. Though, you can’t figure out why that matters. You never dress with the thoughts of others. If you want to wear something that day, even if it’s “over-the-top” for some, you wear it. So, why are you in such a fashion dilemma now?

In the end, you settle for a simple, spaghetti-strapped red dress that is slightly bunched on the sides with strings that are tied in bows. You pair it with a small, heart-shaped purse and white heels. There isn’t any bling in your outfit, which is unusual for you. The accessories you wear are minimal and small. They are a matching cherry set you were gifted by your mother on your 12th birthday. Although it’s been years since you received them, they’re still wearable and delicate enough not to call much attention—unlike some of your other accessories.

You reach for a white fur jacket only to stop when your fingers graze it. Your eyes travel to yourself in the mirror as you debate on wearing it. The jacket will be too much, you conclude.

The buzzing of your phone catches your attention. It’s Seungcheol telling you he’s five minutes away. After stuffing your phone in your purse, you quickly apply red lipstick and toss it in your purse for later touch-ups.

When your phone buzzes again, you hurry to your front door. Your family is home, and you don’t want Seungcheol to meet them. Life at home isn’t ideal, and the only person who has a hint of what is going on is Dae. You doubt Seungcheol will find that out from one quick meeting, but you don’t want to risk it.

You throw your door open, ready to meet him at his car. Instead, he stands in front of you with a hand raised. He takes a step back in surprise. His eyes glide down your body quickly, but you’re too concerned about your family coming to notice.

“Oh, hey,” he greets. “I was just about to knock.”

Before any of your family can intervene, you close the door and start your way down the porch steps. Seungcheol follows you.

“You didn’t have to. I can make my way to your car by myself,” you answer. Although you’ve never been in his car before, you’ve seen it around. Plus, it’s the only unknown vehicle near your home.

You stand next to the passenger door and wait for him to unlock it, arms wrapped around your body when the chilly weather hits you.

“You sure you don’t want a jacket?” he asks when he notices you didn’t bring one.

“It didn’t go with my outfit,” you explain. It’s a lie. The coat did go with your fit, but you didn’t feel like disclosing the fashion crisis you had gone through.

Seungcheol chuckles. “So, you’re going to freeze instead?”

“It’s not that cold,” you lie again.

“It’ll get colder later, though,” he explains and comes closer to you. You step aside when he is a few inches from you. You press your arms tighter around you, eyes averting from his because of his close proximity. The small distance has you wanting to squirm away, but your feet can’t move. He peers at you with a small smile while he reaches behind you.

“My lady,” he murmurs when he pulls the door open and gestures for you to get inside.

“How chivalrous,” you reply after you force your nervousness away. You carefully slide inside his car, situating yourself comfortably in the seat.

Seungcheol waits to ensure you have all your limbs inside before shutting the door. As he walks around to the other side, your eyes scan his car. The seats are leather, and the interior has higher tech than you thought it would. It is a nice car—not overly luxurious, but enough to show it isn’t cheap. It makes you wonder how much it costs.

“You warm enough?” Seungcheol questions after he gets in and buckles.

“Yeah,” you reply quietly, hands resting awkwardly in your lap. The heat from the vents aids in your goosebumps disappearing.

Your mind is already wondering what to expect tonight. You know his friends aren’t fond of you. At least most of them. That guy, Vernon, seems nice enough. He is the quiet one in the group; however, you did notice he has his own quirks that make him unique. You foresee yourself hanging out with him most tonight. But even then, you don’t feel too great about going.

The longer you sit in Seungcheol’s car, the more you regret agreeing to this.

He stares at you for a moment; brows knitted together slightly. You feel uncanny acting so meek, and Seungcheol can't help but notice.

Silence consumes the small area for a few seconds until Seungcheol says, “Seatbelt.”

You look at him confused, then realize he is talking to you. Of course he is, who else?

“Right,” you mumble, quickly pulling the belt over your body.

“You don’t have to come, you know?” he says with one hand on the steering wheel while the other is on the gear stick.

You sigh and gesture to the road ahead. “Let’s just get going. I’ve got stuff to do after.”

It isn’t completely a lie. You still have to work on bringing your designs to life for the show, but it isn’t like you are behind schedule that you need to do that tonight. You just know you might actually back out if you ponder on leaving more.

Seungcheol bites his bottom lip, averting his focus to the road. He doesn’t reply and obliges to your request by shifting the car into drive.

During the ride, your gaze drifts to Seungcheol. He is relaxed in his seat. One arm stretches to hold the wheel while his other rests on his thigh. One which is clad in a pair of light-washed jeans with a black belt between the jean loops. He wears a white shirt tucked in and a black jacket.

You peer forward slightly to read what his shirt says. Propriety of Balenciaga? The Balenciaga? You don’t think he’s wealthy enough to afford one of those shirts. Perhaps it was a gift or a knock-off brand? Maybe he thrifted it… Though, Seungcheol doesn’t seem like the thrifting type.

“Do you need this?” he asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. He’s holding his jacket open to show you what he means. You must’ve been staring too much.

“No, I’m okay,” you say and turn your attention away quickly. “I just didn’t realize you wore glasses.”

Although the comment is true, you need something to say before he questions why you truly are staring at him. You had noticed the spectacles earlier but didn’t feel like mentioning them.

Seungcheol laughs lightly, “Actually, I don’t. I just thought I’d try to improve my fashion. What do you say, did it work?”

He glances at you after stopping at a traffic light; his mouth quirks up in a teasing smile. You turn toward him and scan his face quickly. They do look good on him, but you aren’t going to tell him that.

“They certainly did something, but whether that effect is good or bad is a secret,” you reply, looking away again.

“I’ll take that as you not wanting to admit they look nice on me,” Seungcheol says and continues driving at the green light.

“I think they’d look better on someone else,” you answer. Though, you don’t believe what you said. Something about the glasses on him has you wanting to stare at him more. They fit his face well and make him appear more attractive. You don’t want to sit on that thought for much longer.

“Is that so? Here,” he says, pulling them off his face. The glasses come into your view, and you stare at him, puzzled.

When you don’t take them, he adds, “They won’t bite.”

You roll your eyes at his comment and finally grab them from his grasp. You pull down his sun visor to look at yourself. After sliding on the spectacles, you turn your head from side to side to see the different angles.

“I think I was right. They do look better on someone else,” you tease and face him as you shut the visor. Seungcheol turns to you at your reply.

His eyes wander across your face, a hint of a smile appearing on his lips.

“Maybe I’ll have to agree with you this one time,” he says. His stare lingers on yours so much that it has you shifting in your seat. When you avert your gaze, your eyes widen.

“Cheol!” you shout as he was about to rear-end another car. Instinctively, he shoots an arm out across your chest that has your back pressing firmly against the seat. The sudden act causes you to reach up and grab onto his arm tightly.

The car screeches as it comes to a sudden halt. Luckily in time to not hit the other car.

You both sit still, breathing intensified at the near accident. After a few seconds, Seungcheol retracts his arm. It’s then you realize you’re still holding onto him. Your eyes dart to his forearm and frown when you see small crescent shapes indented in his skin.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly.

Seungcheol’s focus is ahead of him but glances at you in confusion at your apology. “What?”

You quickly gesture to his forearm. When he sees the marks, he rubs a hand over them absentmindedly. “It’s fine. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” you reply, heart rate slowing down to normal.

“I’m alright. Sorry. I guess I shouldn’t make you play dress up in the car.”

“No, it was my fault.”

Seungcheol eases on the gas pedal when the light turns green, keeping a safe distance from the car in front. He remains quiet for a while to ensure you are both safe.

“Are you sure you’re okay? First, you apologize, and now something is your fault?” he jokes.

You don’t remember what you said a few minutes ago, so it takes a while for you to comprehend what he is saying. “Shut up,” is all you can respond with in the end.

Seungcheol laughs but doesn’t pester you about it any longer.

“Oh, you can take these back,” you say and tug off the reason for almost hitting another car.

“Thanks,” he mumbles as he slides the glasses back on his face.

You nestle yourself back in the seat again and glance out the window. As the buildings pass, it dawns on you that you’ve never called him Cheol. The thought of using a nickname for him has your body tingle with an unknown feeling. It’s strange. You aren’t the first to call him that, but you aren’t that close to him to start using nicknames. Annoyingly, you spend the remainder of the car ride fretting about how he felt toward you shortening his name.

Did he even notice? If he did, did he like it? Had you crossed a line?

When he parks, you become acutely aware of everyone’s attire. Many wear jeans or tights with a plain shirt and jacket. A few have on skirts or dresses, but they are more t-shirt dresses or plain skater skirts, if anything. Plus, they are accompanied by tights because of the weather. No one has as much skin showing as you do.

The sinking feeling of not belonging consumes you. You can’t remember the last time you felt this way, and that alone has you questioning yourself even more.

“I’m too dressed for this, aren’t I?” you think out loud.

Seungcheol turns off the car, eyes raking your body again. Though this time, you’re aware of it. You tug down the bottom of your dress at his stare. It’s not like it’s predatory, but it still has your nerves skyrocketing.

“Since when did you care about what others thought of your outfit?” he wonders. The question has you sighing, momentarily closing your eyes as you remind yourself you dress for you, not for others’ approval.

“Right,” you swallow harshly and sling your purse over your shoulder—mentally throwing away the negative thoughts too. “Let’s just go.”

With that, you open his car door and step out.

“Yn wait—” you hear Seungcheol call out right as you shut the door.

Your hair is immediately pushed from your face as the wind blows past. It makes your body shiver, and for a split second, you wish you took up Seungcheol’s offer to grab a jacket when you were at your house.

Seungcheol’s car beeps as it locks before he stands in front of you. His broad body blocks the wind, and you feel your own ease from feeling a tad warmer.

“I’m sorry if that came off rude,” he apologizes softly. “I think you look great.”

You look at him, face void of emotion. You don’t believe him, but you don’t want to argue. At least not standing in this weather.

“Okay,” you reply. “We need to go meet your friends.”

You take a step forward, thinking it will get him to start walking toward the building, but he doesn’t budge. You only decrease the distance between you two.

“I mean it,” he whispers.

Goosebumps are forming on your exposed skin the longer you stay out. You blame the cold weather for them, but something in your chest tightens at the way Seungcheol is speaking to you.

“I think red is your color,” he pauses. “You should wear it more, Cherry.”

Your head tilts at his last word. “Cherry?”

The corner of his mouth raises at hearing it from your lips. Slowly, he brings a hand to your face. You stand still as you stare at him with wide eyes. His hand brushes past your cheek before he grazes his fingertips along your ear.

“It suits you,” he murmurs, eyes moving away from yours.

You follow his gaze and realize he has been looking at your cherry-charmed earrings. His eyes then flicker to the matching cherry-charmed necklace resting below your bare collarbones. You’re not sure if he means the color suits you or if the nickname he just made suits you. Either way, you’re surprised at his words.

Suddenly, the weather doesn't feel as chilly anymore. Your body heats quickly at his comment, or maybe it’s from how close he is to you. Nevertheless, you need to distract yourself from this warm, odd feeling bubbling in your chest.

You clear your throat and step back. His hand lowers steadily.

“I’ll think about it,” you reply more confidently and clearly.

Seungcheol takes the hint and moves aside, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. He nods his head in the direction of the building, and you start walking toward it. Your pace is slightly faster than his, but you don’t mind not walking next to him. If anything, you need distance from him anyway.

The moment you open the door to the lounge, the heat from inside greets you in full force. You step inside and are welcomed by a worker. He is young, maybe a few years younger than you. He gives you a friendly smile.

“Hi, are you wanting to be seated, or are you with a group already?”

“With a group,” you reply. The worker nods.

“Do you need help locating them?”

You shake your head as the jingle of the door opening sounds behind you. Seungcheol stops behind you. His hand comes to hover over your lower back, not really touching you, but close enough to feel the heat radiate from his hand onto your skin. It has you shuffling away.

“They’re over there,” he says. You peer up to see where he is gesturing. Fair enough, you see his friends at a table toward the back of the building. There are five of them, all smiling at each other. You can spot a few familiar faces—one of them being Vernon. You feel a little at ease knowing he made it here.

“Thanks,” you murmur to the worker before making your way to the table. The closer you get to the table, the slower your steps become. You’re used to keeping your chin high in situations you aren’t completely comfortable in. The whole “fake it until you make it” is on repeat in your head.

Yet the saying is not encouraging you much right now.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” Seungcheol asks when he catches up to you. You don’t realize you had stopped a few feet from the table.

“No,” you say. You aren’t mad at him; you just need some space from him for now. You don’t like how you aren’t in control of your emotions when you’re around him. “I’m going to freshen up in the bathroom.”

Seungcheol eyes you for a second before nodding. You make your way to the bathroom, but right before you enter, you can hear the welcoming echoes coming from his table of friends. All of them sound cheerful and excited to see him. You don’t expect any of them to look forward to your presence, yet you feel a little disappointed when no one brings up your name—in a positive way.

After using the restroom and washing your hands, you stand in front of the mirror with your hands lingering under the warm water. Your eyes roam your face and body, taking in your appearance. Compared to your normal fashion, you really did dress down. You sigh when you realize you’re circling back to the same issue.

You retract your hands from the faucet and grab a few towels to dry them.

It doesn’t matter if you’re overly dressed. You usually are and don’t care. You look great. You should feel confident in your fit.

You gently tug the dress down before turning in front of the mirror.

You look fine. You look nice.

As you reapply your lipstick, you keep repeating compliments and reassuring phrases in your head.

They’re going to look at you funny. You are going to ignore them.

“That’s right,” you sigh to yourself as you toss the lipstick back into your purse.

Suddenly, your phone starts to vibrate. You pull it out to see Dae’s name appear across the top. You eagerly answer her call.

“Hey babe,” Dae’s voice comes from the other line. “How’s it going?”

“I’m ready to go home,” you say with a small huff.

“Damn, that horrible? Is he treating you badly?” Dae questions. You had told her about Seungcheol’s invitation when you got home that day. She was shocked, but ultimately supportive of you going.

You shake your head despite her not being able to see you. “No, he’s been fine. I just,” you pause. Although you have your ups and downs with Dae, she has stayed with you when no one else has. You don’t disclose your troubles often, wanting people to not see that side of you, but you’re feeling too low that you can’t stop the confession from coming out.

“I’m way overdressed for this place. Everyone’s in jeans or tights. I don’t belong here,” you say.

Dae sighs sadly. “Jeans are boring. I think I only own a pair,” she answers, trying to make you smile. “Just remember, if you were to die right now, would you want your last outfit to be something boring?”

“No,” you answer slowly.

“Exactly. These are people who are used to looking plain. They’re probably jealous you’re outdressing them. Don’t let them get to you, Yn. I’m sure you look beautiful.”

Your shoulders ease at her words. “Thanks, Dae.”

“No need. If they had the talent to dress themselves better, they would.”

You let her words sink in, but the reassurance doesn’t last long.

“I shouldn’t have come,” you say, beginning to pace the small area in the bathroom.

“It’s good for you to be around people from outside our department. It’ll make you more open-minded,” she encourages. “Plus, Seungcheol isn’t as bad as he seemed, huh?”

There is a teasing tone to her voice that you don’t like.

“One outing with him doesn’t mean he’s my friend,” you argue.

Dae giggles. “No, but it’s a start. Do you like him?”

“No!” you answer quickly.

“I was just asking in general. Not ‘like’ as in crushing on him,” she explains nonchalantly, but you can hear her smile.

“He’s,” you pause as you try to think of a word to describe him, “he’s been alright.”

“Well, I better let you get back to him then. I just wanted to check in,” Dae answers.

“Thanks. I appreciate it,” you say.

“Remember, you don’t need their approval. You never have, and you never will. People want the confidence you have.”

“I’m not feeling too confident right now,” you mumble.

“That’s because you’re overthinking. Chin up, okay?”

Sighing, you reply. “Okay.”

“Good. Talk to you later!”

“Yeah,” you say before hanging up.

Taking one last look at yourself, you roll your shoulders back and exit the bathroom.

Seungcheol is sitting in the middle of Hajun and someone you don’t know. His eyes lift to meet yours when he hears the sound of your heels.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks.

Nodding, your eyes roam for a spot to sit.

“You knew you were just going to a poetry lounge, right? Not the runway,” Hajun comments with a small scoff.

Your eyes move to look at her, and you quirk an eyebrow. She wears leggings with a graphic tee. Her discarded jacket is slung over the back of her chair. “Are you sure you know that, as well? Or did you think you were just going back to your bed?”

“This is how normal people dress,” she replies.

“Relax, Hajun,” a voice you don’t know sounds. You direct your attention to them.

The guy has black hair that is parted on the side to expose his forehead. His eyes are narrow, and even though he has a soft appearance now, you’re sure his gaze can be fierce when needed.

“People don’t need to dress up for special occasions,” he says.

You’re taken aback by his comment. Seungcheol’s friends have always questioned your wardrobe, so for this new “friend” to not agree with Hajun is surprising.

“No, they don’t, but you gotta’ admit she’s a little overdone huh, Soonyoung?” Hajun replies.

“Hajun,” Seungcheol interjects, giving her a pointed look.

“I understand not everyone knows how to dress. It’s okay, though. I can offer my services if you need some help,” you comment, half tempted to reach in your bag to get a business card. Although you aren’t on campus, you never know when you’ll run into someone who will make a good connection, so you keep them with you wherever you go.

“Services?” Hajun laughs and rests her crossed arms on the table. “And what ‘services’ are you offering? Because from the looks of it, I can tell exactly what you offer. Sorry, I’m not interested.”

Her eyes roam your body once more, indicating that the way you are dressed, means your services consist of paying to be with people in bed.

“I don’t think those services would help you anyway. Your rotting attitude is enough to repel anyone. Though I guess some people are willing to lower their standards when they’re desperate,” you counter.

“You’re such a—” she starts.

“Can we talk?” Seungcheol asks Hajun quickly, but he doesn’t give her the option to answer because he takes her hand and pulls her away from the group.

The table is silent for a few seconds before Soonyoung speaks up again.

“Don’t pay any mind to her. It’s nice to meet you. You must be Yn?” He smiles at you, slightly bowing at you.

“Correct,” you say, trying to not show how irritated you feel.

“Come sit,” he offers, pulling up a chair so you’re sat between him and Vernon. You thank him before sitting in the chair. You sit your purse in your lap as conversations begin to spark again.

Their voices become background noise as your gaze drifts to Seungcheol and Hajun in the corner. They stand close to each other and are in a deep conversation—clearly about you. Seungcheol has his back to you, so you can’t see his expression, but you can see Hajun’s. Her lips are in a frown, her expression not as sassy as before.

Though her pouting seems forced, her bottom lip a little too far stuck out. Soon enough, she rolls her eyes, an expression similar to how it was earlier. Her eyes then move from him to you over his shoulder. When she catches your gaze, she smiles and raises a challenging eyebrow. However, her gaze doesn’t last long because Seungcheol’s hand comes up and guides her eyes back to him. Even though his hand isn’t touching her completely, she leans into his touch. The act has you stilling.

“Yn?” Vernon questions, tearing you from your thoughts. You don’t realize you’re clutching your purse until your focus goes to Vernon. You ease your grip and raise an eyebrow.

“Soonyoung was asking what your major was,” Vernon explains.

“Oh,” you say, glancing around the table. It appears the others are in their own conversation.

You look at the man to your left. He gives you a reassuring smile that tells you he is patient. “I’m studying fashion design. Are you in business, too?”

Soonyoung shakes his head with a laugh. “I could never. I’m a dance major.”

“Wow, that sounds nice,” you say. “Aren’t your career choices limited with that, though?”

“A little,” Soonyoung replies honestly. He doesn’t seem offended by the question. Maybe he gets it a lot. “But it makes me happy. I can always teach or maybe even become a dancer in a well-known group.”

You hum, understanding his words.

“Isn’t fashion design limited, too?” Vernon asks.

“Clothes are everywhere. I can do a lot with it.”

“But not everyone will wear your clothes,” Hana says, having finally heard your discussion.

“There will always be someone,” you argue, confident in your work. It may be a slow start, but you believe in your designs.

She laughs. “Who? Your mother?”

Your eyes narrow at the mention of your mom, and Hana is quick to notice the change in attitude. Instead of letting go of the topic, she continues.

“Ooh, trouble at home? See? I knew the ‘Great Yn’ isn’t as perfect as she seems,” Hana says. What makes her think you are so “great” is unknown to you, but you aren’t surprised to guess people have made up a persona for you.

“Stop, Hana,” Vernon says, but it has no effect.

“Oh, so we were right?” Hajun’s voice comes from above. You glance up to see she and Seungcheol have returned. It appears their little chat did nothing to keep Hajun from being a bitch.

“Seems so,” Hana says with a smile. “Care to share with the class what kind of mommy issues you have?”

“No wonder she dresses like that,” Doyun, another one of Seungcheol’s alleged friends, adds. “She’s not getting attention at home. I guess Daddy isn’t there either?”

“That’s enough,” Seungcheol scolds them all.

Your eyes are darting from everyone at the table. Their stares are akin to shrink rays, making you feel tiny and minuscule. You know when you aren’t welcomed, and there’s no reason to stay listening to this. You want to snap back, end the conversation with your own last words, but nothing comes to mind.

In lieu, you push your chair back and stand up. Your hands twitch with the temptation to dump their food all over them, but you just want to get out as soon as possible.

You waste no time careening for the exit.

Seungcheol calls your name; you ignore it. The worker from before sees you, telling you goodbye, but you couldn't care less and push past the door before he can finish his sentence.

Your breath gets caught in your throat at the sudden breeze that slams into you. Instantly, your arms wrap around you once more. You glance around and see a bus stop down the street. You don’t care that it’s the other way from Seungcheol’s car. You hurry to the station, not sure when the next bus will come.

The bus stop isn’t deserted despite the cold weather. The area must be busy all the time since the sidewalks are littered with more people than you expect. All the seats at the stop are taken, yet you still shuffle under the shelter in hopes to get away from some of the breeze.

You are shaking, and your teeth are chattering. It’s impossible to force your body to stop since you need to generate heat somehow. You probably look like a pathetic naked chihuahua in winter.

You take out your phone, open up a browser, and search for bus times. Thankfully, there’s one coming in three minutes in the direction you need. The thought of taking the bus is not pleasurable. You hate the idea of your skin touching something so many others have touched. It feels unsanitary.

Accidentally leaning back against the wall while you silently groan has you jumping at the cold material touching your bare skin. Your jolt catches the attention of an older woman who is sitting near you.

“Aren’t you freezing, child?” she asks as she stares at your attire—or lack of.

“I’ll be fine soon,” you say, not really in the mood for talking.

“Where is your coat? Did you not know the weather was going to be cold?” she continues.

Utterly done with all the people-talk tonight, you hiss, “Focus on yourself. I’ll focus on me.”

She seems startled at your outburst. Her already crossed arms tighten as she turns away from you. Her muttered “bitch” doesn’t go unnoticed, but you don’t say anything about it. There’s no point in arguing with a stranger.

The sound of the bus calls your attention, and you mentally thank the universe for the great timing. After people leave and all the new patrons enter, you finally take a step up the bus’ steps. Before you can climb all the way, you hear your name being called. You look past the bus doors to see Seungcheol running toward you.

Just what you need.

You disregard him and step farther up the steps of the bus.

The bus driver looks expectantly at you, and it dawns on you that you need to provide payment before you can board fully.

“Card?” you wonder. The bus driver nods and gestures to a device to the right.

As you unzip your purse, you feel a hand grip your arm.

“Where are you going?” Seungcheol asks, slightly breathless. His hair is disheveled from running, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Home, idiot,” you huff and pull your arm out of his grasp so you can retrieve your card.

“Just come with me. We can talk somewhere else,” he pleads, a hand stopping your movements again.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Seungcheol,” you hiss. “Now, let go of me.”

He hesitates but slowly releases your arm. He doesn’t leave, though. “I’ll take you home. You don’t need to take the bus. Come on.”

“Go with him or get on! We have places to be,” a passenger exclaims, clearly annoyed with your drama.

You raise your head to the person, narrowing your eyes in a glare that tells them to pipe down. It has no effect on them. They shoot a fierce look back.

“I know you don’t want to take the bus,” Seungcheol comments quietly.

He’s right. Not only do you not want to sit next to a lady whose arms are filled with shopping bags—the only available seat—you really don’t want to add time to your trip home.

Seungcheol reaches out again and carefully takes your hand in his. This time, you don’t fight him as he guides you off the bus. Once you’re both off, the bus doors shut and begin its trip down the road.

You watch it silently, not knowing Seungcheol is discarding his jacket until you feel the warm material cover your shoulders. Your eyes snap back to him as if remembering who you’re with.

“I’m sorry they said all that stuff. I told them not to do that tonight,” he says remorsefully.

“Oh, so you’ll let them talk shit about me another day?” you chide and start walking away from him. Thankfully for Seungcheol, it’s in the direction of his car.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” he replies as he hurries to catch up, which doesn’t take much effort as you aren’t walking too fast due to your cold, stiff legs.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll do that whenever they want to. They wouldn’t be the first,” you scoff.

“It doesn’t make it right regardless,” he says. You halt in your steps, causing Seungcheol to stop and turn to look at you.

“I talk shit about people behind their backs, too. Does that make me a bad person?” you question. Perhaps if he sees you as one he’ll leave you alone.

He exhales a deep breath. “Let’s just get in the car, okay?”

“You can admit it,” you challenge and walk closer to him. “Does talking shit about someone make me a bad person, Seungcheol?”

He stares down at you, soft gaze turning dark with annoyance.

“To the car, Yn,” he demands slowly just in case you won’t understand; his tone is sharp in a way you haven’t heard before. You don’t let that scare you away. Maybe if you weren’t so fired up, you would have been a little intimidated.

You laugh darkly and roll your eyes at his command. “You want me to sit next? Bark, too?”

“Now, you’re just being dramatic.”

Dramatic, he says.

“Woof?” you reply, dramatically giving him the best puppy-dog eyes you can muster.

Seungcheol’s jaw clenches at your response—not pleased with your sarcasm. However, instead of replying in an annoyed tone, he takes a step forward. His head draws closer to your face to ensure your eyes are glued to his.

“Wanna be a good girl and go to the car, Cherry?” he murmurs lowly, an eyebrow quirking up for a second.

His sudden change in tone has you stiffening. You want to bite back—figuratively or literately… you aren’t sure yet—but you can’t even remember what you are mad about in the first place.

“Hm?” he croons when you don't reply quickly.

Rather than a sarcastic reply, you simply grumble, “whatever,” before pushing past him to get to his car.

You stand next to the passenger side like before, waiting for him to unlock it. Seungcheol comes beside you and swiftly unlocks the vehicle. Although you aren’t arguing at the moment, you can sense some irritation lingering from him.

You get the feeling he'll always hold the door open no matter how annoyed he is with you.

You feel suffocated.

The air in the car is too hot. The weight of his jacket has you overheating. The tension is unbearable.

Seungcheol keeps his eyes on the road, not throwing you a single glance as he drives. Every once in a while he will tighten his hold on the steering wheel. One time you even catch the way his muscles flex at the motion—now exposed from not wearing his jacket. You never realized how fit he is. This isn’t the first time you have seen him sleeveless, but you just never stared long enough to notice. Or if you did, you simply didn’t care. Regardless, you notice now, and you have to force your eyes away before he catches you staring.

You want to ask for music so you don’t have to sit in this insufferable silence, but your mouth feels dry. You decide to just deal with the quietness, shifting in the seat so you’re facing the window more. Your eyes drift close as you let the hum of the car distract you.

Seungcheol’s jacket is snuggled around you, and his woodsy cologne fills your senses. It’s pleasant, and you don’t mind if you smell more of it in the future.

By the time you arrive home, you are on the verge of sleep. You stumble out of the car and shut the door without saying a word to Seungcheol. You expect him to drive off, but the sound of his tires moving never comes. Instead, you hear his car door opening and closing.

“You don’t have to walk me to the door,” you say while you glance behind you. Seungcheol is following you languidly.

“No, I don’t,” he says and pauses at the bottom of your porch steps. He places a foot on the first step while a hand holds onto the rail. You have your keys out, ready to slide them into the keyhole when you speak.

“Then don’t,” you reply sternly.

He chuckles lowly but doesn’t say anything about it.

“You can go now,” you say when he doesn't move.

“You have something of mine.”

Puzzled, you stare at him for a second. Seungcheol gestures to your body, and you quickly remember you’re wearing his jacket. You tug it off and toss it to him. He grabs it from the air with ease. The loss of heat makes you wish he didn’t say anything.

“Goodnight, Cherry,” he murmurs as soon as you click open your door. You step inside before turning to face him.

The nickname you used earlier forms on your tongue, yet you can’t find the courage to say it consciously.

“Night,” you answer, then shut the door before either of you can say anything else.

With your head bowed, you turn the lock slowly while you exhale deeply. His nickname falls from your lips under your breath—unable to keep the desire at bay.

previous chapter \\ series masterpost // next chapter

A/N: Can't believe the first chapter is actually published 😭 I sat and stared at this for a few before hitting "post" because I'm so anxious! dfl;kbjdvs. Please feel free to share your thoughts on it so far!

For my “shy/silent” readers, I’ve created a feedback form where you can share your thoughts on my fics in a more anonymous and private way. ^-^

taglist: @iammisstora, @christinewithluv, @lithelust, @musingsofananxiouspotato, @yoozuku, @lockburn-castle, @mystikhal-blog, @oncloudvii23 (couldn't tag :c), @cheolcherries (tysm!!!)

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sirius-bus1ness · 1 month

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LETS TAL ABT MY CHARACCTERS @thinkingnot @radio-to-trenchcoat-demons @theverywest HELLO u guys were the one in That post yeah? safjgajsgfas its been months sorry for the very late but!!! I have new stuff now :333 (anyone who wants to be tagged in future updates for this story lmk below)(ill be realeasing some notes on how the game works, the compnay, the effects of the game and how big its impact really is, etc)(and,ofc, more characters later!!!)

FOR NOW THO

Characters are divided into three categories: the main character, who are often in the plot both irl and in the game, the side characters, who are players that are either solely in the game or in real life*, and npc, who are just. NPC in the game. They will be important, definitely, but they would never show up irl. They're not real (although they do have actors, but they are separate from npc)

ANYWAY!!!! These 5 are my main characters. First up, Ruth Hernandez aka RuthlessAce. Used to be KingofSpades in the game, before she left playing for college(which she didnt actually last long in, bc she was scouted by some weirdo to work in the government)(her deadname is June, which will have to be used in the start of the story cause it's abt her realizing she's a woman, and the journey of her transition. She's 25, and FIlipino(like me!!!)

She's very cheerful and chill, in the present. She wasn't always, back in elementary and highschool, and in fact is part of a trio that goes around towns and get into fights with other gangs/groups. They have good reason for getting into fights, but only sometimes. She's sporty and friendly and well-liked when she was a boy, and while not veyr good academically she was very personable and people smart.

SHE is the lady in the corner, with the braids and weird bangs. It slides down her face fr. like thatguy from bsd.

Second!

Trixie Dela Rosa, the love interest, aka ManicPixieDreamGirl!. She is. So blorbo. She have an old name, but she's not trans like Ruth, she's actually just lead really strange life. She was a genius born to a poor family, in an urban area (ruth is from rural). By the time she was five, she's fluent in english and tagalog(filipino language) and learning ilocano(another filipino language). In school, youre supposed to be in prep school for two years, at four and five.

She starts, instead, elementary at five skipping the second year. It was supposed to be just like, some sort of indulgent thing we refer to 'saling kitkit' or kitty is joining literally translated. you're there but you're not supposed to be actually there. Unfortunately, she IS too smart, and she is doing amazing so they can't just make her repeat the year to match with other kids her age.

I have a bunch of fun thoughts about her childhood exploits and why her 1st grade teacher HATES her. (not really, she was just really annoyed nad easily upset)

ANYWAY. She have multiple younger siblings. At six, she has two other siblings. It's around that time she met Mrs. Dela Rosa, an old school teacher who married a rich man. The teacher LOVES her, a lot, and finds her intellegence very delightful and her mischief endearing. At seven, Trixie - Sophie still, then - her parents had twins.

One day, she overheard her parents talking about Mrs. Dela Rosa wanting to adopt her. And well, she is a brilliant child, and an observant one. Her family is struggling. Her parents, at first, didn't wanna agree. But Trixie got a sharp tongue and good at getting what she wants, and Mrs. Dela Rosa was offering jobs with good income plus scholarship for the four kids, in exchange for Trixie(the old lady is desperate, and so is her husbadn. they can't have children and they Want trixie.)

Trixie gets adopted, and proves her genius, skips a bunch of grades, getting the official exams bc money can get her anything now. At 10 she can speak 5 languages and play 3 instruments. She's mostly tutored now, only going to school to socialize with other kids. she's not actually in any specific class, she just goes wherever she wants(power of money)

anyway, at 15 she got sick and started playing paraiso. she was sick for 5 years, and i have a legit list of all the things that made her sick. things go, she becomes a streamer as a hobby while joining her adoptive father in his work, and things are going brilliantly for her rn. except for the angst of technically being sold(even if she decided it, even if she chose it, she was a kid. she was a kid. she doesn't regret it, but she was a kid.)(she wishes someone woudl fight for her, just one).

AHAHAHA ITS OBVIOUS I HAVE A FAVOURITE HUH.

nEXT .

Arthur Prince. The man, the legend, the best friend ever. GHe is flamboyant and loud and shining star. Attention SHOULD always be on him, because he lacked it as a child deserves it!!! Him and Ruth had been friends since they were kids, and man do they adore each other. Tight, attached to the hip, probably would kill for each other, definitely committed crimes together. He is MadRukh in game, and YES it is a reference to rook, the chess piece. Ruth's name is a reference to a card game. It is matching, or so they claim. tbf, they were 15 youre honor.

He is half filipino half british, and his dad sends child support from the land of the queen. his mother remarried a japanese man and had two more children. He is in the Philippines, being raised by his uncle, because he felt out of place with his mother and his father's paretns are assholes! not that he told anyone but ruth that, lmaooooo.

He's just happy they send him money (and that he plays Paraiso with his younger siblings)

He lefthis uncle's home at 15 btw. because that man was taking the money his paretns were sending him for his own children. He's also a streamer, and in the same sort of group/guild with Trixie, called seven deadly sins. He's lust, she's pride, and a bunch of others. he is aroace and if he had pennies everytime he coparented a child he sees as his siblings with a lesbian who hates him, he'll get two pennies which is good, its just weird it happened twice. (this is trixie, who took under her wing his middle sibling and-)

AND ELIAS VIDARRRR

brilliant agender bitch who is arolesbian. they get ALL the ladies in the school, and has been the lesbian awakening of soooo many people. Her past? a mystery. her present? ALSO a mystery. where do they get the money? how does he blow up his place every few days? why did the governement not come to check the danger? NO ON EKNOWS!!! It is the last part of the trio of gangsters in their town, it and arthur and ruth. they beat up people who harass girls. and also everyone else, because they have NO mercy. or sense.

the only solid thing about elias is that she is brilliant innovator with a little brother who loves her very much and completely dedicated in keeping her alive, except for when he is with arthur and playing paraiso.

shes the spiky haired one, with the heart glasses and scientist coat.

and last bt certainly NOT the least,

Aeon Vidar, aka SeashellInAHole!! An AI whose body Elias constantly updates as years pass by. He is so so precious. Him, Arthur, and Arthur's little sister Amethyst (FuryInMyVeins) form a party in game and goes to shenanigans. family, you may say. he is content being spoiled by both arthur and elias, who often takes him to carnivals and shit just so they can compete on who takes care of him better. He does not Care abt it. In fact, he finds it hilarious and fun, because his favourite is Anthony, Ruth's older brother. he is only a little bit lying.

Him and Amy are 13, and they are so so siblings. twins, even.

Notice, my readers, that elias has no in game name. This is because she LOATHES PAraiso. the game, the company, the headset nad the pods adn EVERYTHING. the only reason she has the paraiso messenger app on it's phone is because she needs it for if Aeon needs to contact them while his kiddo's in game. and no, btw, elias did not make Aeon, she's a gift from their mom <333 who definitely exist and is not at all connected to paraiso, wink wink nudge nudge.

The fact that elias look so so similar to the Gardener, with the shade of red hair, and aeon has a braid styled just like that in game god is a coincidence and unconnected and people should not talk abotu it (foaming at the mouth SOMEONE ASK ME ABOUT IT)

#auriginals :3 #My VR Life (tentative title)#Characters MVL

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rowanmuppet · 1 year

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oh and mischa too!!!

Okay I just wrote the penny one and I am on a ROLL so. Mischa bachinski my beloved

- First of all. Mischa has two hands and I won't hear otherwise. Talia is REAL damn it but Mischa is also bisexual and in love with Noel. End of

- He watched the titanic for the first time on the phone with talia and cried EMBARRASSINGLY hard. Not embarrassing because he's supposed to be manly or whatever, embarrassing like he woke up the next day and his eyes were almost swollen shut from crying so hard. Like that movie really affected him

- Noel would ask to watch it with him and he'd immediately say no because he doesn't want to be literally dehydrated from crying again

- He would put talia on the phone during choir and everyone would talk to her (more like them telling Mischa what to say and him translating but they all love her)

- Ocean would insist on singing whatever song they're working on for her and she'd just sit there like wow 😁👍!!! She has no idea what's going on but she's along for the ride

- He is trying to teach everyone Ukrainian to moderate success

- he has an annoyed siblings relationship with ocean which everyone says but seriously!!! They get on each other's nerves so much but ocean would kill a man for him and he's DEFINITELY gotten into a fight for her

- picks ocean up like a folding chair and carries her around. Or like a cat under the armpits and so she's just dangling there

- absolutely terrified of rollercoasters but went on the cyclone anyway because he's a manly man. Obviously. But then he died

- literally almost threw up getting off the graviton. Thought he was literally going to die

- wholeheartedly believes in Santa. Literally will not be convinced he isn't real. Everyone in the choir feeds into this and says their presents to him were from Santa and were dropped off at their house instead of his bc he doesn't have a chimney (in like an everyone lives situation cause yk they weren't really friends before)

- really it's because his adoptive parents didn't get him anything but he doesn't have to know that they're supposed to be santa

- is actually genuinely successful on YouTube 😭 nobody wants to believe him and I doubt the choir before the accident cared to check they just half listened to him talk about his songs like "yeah that's great buddy" but he has a pretty decent following

- I'm sure a good amount of them are ironic but that's okay

- he'd get one of those "THIS SHIT IS FIRE 🔥🔥🔥🔥 PUT IT OUT 🔥🔥🔥" comments and take it as a compliment

- has unmedicated ADHD. I don't make the rules I only enforce them

- he literally can't sit still in any situation at all ever, nor can he focus on anything if there isn't 5 other things going on. Constantly understimulated. Constance would give him a fidget spinner and his grades would immediately go up a letter or two

- honestly Mischa and constance are best friends in my heart

- she would try to teach him how to bake/cook and he would burn everything

- "Mischa no wonder it's burnt! It's been on high for 15 minutes it's just a grilled cheese" "why cook for long time on low heat when I could cook for short time on high heat 🤨??" "because it will burn before the cheese melts!!!!"

- Ocean is PISSED that he's always at Constance's house when she goes over to hang out (she would spend virtually all her time there fr) but Constance's little brother loves him

- wears almost exclusively sweat pants/giant t shirts with ironic slogans. "The worst day of fishing beats the best day of 'court ordered' anger management classes'"

- the kind of mf to wear gym shorts and slides in 4 inches of snow like dude 😦

- lets noel paint his nails every time they hang out. immediately forgets they're painted and either smudges it or if it somehow manages to dry bites/picks it off immediately

- he will never complain but he hates the way it makes his nails feel heavier

- ocean would get him a sticker book to motivate him to do his homework (his grades are not good and if they get too low he won't be allowed to participate in choir)

- so now his books/homework are covered in stickers

- spends a devastatingly long time on his hair only for it to immediately be ruined when he leaves the house

- it's almost impressive how quickly it just turns into a total mess

- that's what the hat is for

- regarding my penny rock head canon. He gets SO EXCITED when she gives him one

- "this reminded me of you" *least visually interesting rock you've ever seen* "YOOOOO IT IS LIKE ME!!!"

- not a big fan of the bugs though

- genuinely terrified of them. He'd see penny with bugs and feel like ants are on him for the next several minutes

That's all for rn cause this is getting long!!

#ride the cyclone #rtc #jane doe #jane doe rtc #mischa bachinski #noel gruber #constance rtc #ocean oconnell rosenberg #ricky potts #rtc headcanons #ride the cyclone headcanons #penny lamb #headcanons #talia rtc #constance blackwood #constance blackwood rtc

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vampyrsutton · 2 years

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ShinKami~Hypnotism/Aftercare

Summary:

More "inappropriate" quirk use.

Ao3 Tags:

Hypnotism, Aftercare, Vibrators, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Dom/sub, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Cumming on Face, Pet Names, Banter, Kinktober 2020

“So you wanna try it again, right?” Shinsou asked for what felt like the millionth time.

It was only the third, but a certain blonde was impatient.

“Yes, babe! Are you gonna ask twenty times everti-” Kaminari’s eyes when blank and his face slack.

“Yes. Yes, I am.” Shinsou sighed as he looked the kneeling blonde over, considering what to do with him this time. “You really need to learn some patience, you know that?”

The blonde didn’t answer, not that Shinsou expected him to, but that did give him an idea. “Catch.” He ordered, tossing Kaminari the lube who caught it without any trouble. “Prep yourself. I’m gonna get something from my room. I expect you ready when I get back.”

Kaminari mindlessly got to work, lubing his fingers and slipping one in himself with a breathy moan as he started working himself open.

Shinsou smirked at the sight before pulling his shirt back on to go down the hall to his room, once more glad he was able to convince Aizawa to let them be on the same floor, the ever overprotective Dadzawa originally trying to put them as far from each other as possible like he did with the other class couples.

It’s not like this stopped any of them what with Todoroki making ice slides down to Midoriya’s room , Uraraka being able to float up to Tsuyu’s, Momo just straight up making ladders, Hawks teaching Tokoyami to fly means his nest is now made of eight arms, and Kirishima deciding he can now use his quirk for scaling down to Bakugou’s. This doesn’t even include the interclass couples coming up with their own methods, so at this point Aizawa has admitted his defeat anyway since the only one his has any control over any more is Mina since her girlfriend is at the opposing school and thus not easily accessible. Everyone else though? He gave up when Mei showed up at Iida’s window with a grappling hook.

Shinsou laughed to himself remembering that incident as he walked in his own room. Guess even the most straight-laced of teenagers have needs. ...Or he’s Iida’s dating the embodiment of chaos. Who’s to say.

Shinsou ran his hand through his messy locks as he tried to remember where he put what he came here for. Jirou had Momo make it for the two on the blonde’s birthday as a joke to see how red she could make Kaminari, but little did any of them know, Shinsou kept it.

“Did I ever actually get around to washing that hoodie? Probably in the closet then.” Shinsou shrugged as he opened said closet and rearranged the mess of laundry that had accumulated at the bottom in an attempt to find the hoodie. He could already hear DadMic’s lecture if they ever actually did the room checks like they were supposed to.

“Denki’s, Denki’s, Denki’s. I thought he was the hoodie boyfriend? Ah, there it is.” Shinsou smirked to himself as he pulled a black hoodie with a purple storm cloud from the depths of his closet and unwrapped the gift hidden inside. “Thanks girls.” He hummed as he held it up.

Earlier in the year for Kaminari’s, Jirou had been so devious as to gag gift them a rather sizable vibrator with the single intention of embarrassing her best friend. Shinsou still remembers the wonderful shade of red his blonde had turned as he frantically tried to ramble out a joke, but for all the inappropriate jokes he was prone to making, he was left speechless as he hid behind a laughing Shinsou.

“Jirou~ Why?!” Kaminari had eventually whined, peeking out from behind Shinsou to glare at the laughing purple haired girl.

“Calm down, Sparky, it's just a gag gift that I asked Momo to make. Your real present is down in the commons. I just wanted to see your face.” Jirou laughed, reaching around Shinsou to ruffle the blonde’s hair.

All this had done was earned her a pout and a round of bickering, but it was the perfect cover that Shinsou needed to hide it in the hoodie he had slung over his arm to leave then leave on his bed for later use.

Sure this had ended in it getting tossed in the closet for months, but the later use was today as Shinsou wrapped it back in the hoodie and grabbed his backpack to go back to the blonde’s room. He was going to have a little fun teaching his Denki a lesson in patience.

When he opened Kaminari’s room, he realized he had never actually gave the blonde a command for when to cum or when to stop as he was met with the beautiful site of his little Sparkplug trembling around his own fingers with cum painting his chest and the floor in front of him as small sobs of overstimulation left his lips.

Kaminari didn’t even glance at the door, still under Shinsou’s control as the purple haired man closed the door behind him and made his way over to crouch in front of Denki and wipe his tears. “Shhh, baby, you can stop.”

A small hiccup left Kaminari’s lips as he did as he was told, stopping with his fingers still inside.

“You can take them out.”

He shivered as he did.

“Good boy,” Shinsou praised the blonde. “I had something for you. Remember this?”

Kaminari gave no reaction, but Shinsou could sense the blonde’s curiosity through the static as he unwrapped the hoodie and held up its contents. He had to laugh as he watched the blonde’s unchanging face turn red in embarrassment.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Shinsou hummed, picking the lube up off the floor and spreading some on the toy. “I’m gonna turn it on, and you’re gonna ride it until I tell you to stop, okay? Answer.”

Shinsou got a desperate moan in lieu of a worded response, but accepted it. “Good boy. Turning it on then.” He hummed as he turned it on before placing it in Kaminari’s hand. “Have fun, baby boy.”

Kaminari wasted no time in lining himself and sinking down on the big purple cock with a loud moan. He could only go about half way before having to come back up to try again, and something about that had Shinsou’s pants suddenly very uncomfortable.

“Patience , baby. Don’t want to hurt yourself.” Shinsou hummed, petting soft blonde locks as the owner of said locks tried to work his way further down the vibrator even as his thighs shook. “Use more lube if you need it.” He ordered as he held it up.

Kaminari took the bottle and applied more lube to the vibrator before crying out when it slipped in more and sat itself right against his still sensitive prostate. He trembled in sensitivity as tears gathered in his eyes, but still he persisted, almost at the base now.

“Such a good boy. Look at you, taking it so well. See what patience gets you? Now you get to feel every single inch as it stretches you nice and wide. Look so pretty like this.” Shinsou praises.

Kaminari lets out a small whimper and another sob as he bottoms out, trembling at the effort.

Shinsou gives him a second to adjust before looking into his staticed gaze. “Now ride it.”

Kaminari immediately does at he’s told, once again hard cock bobbing in front of him as he bounces up and down on the vibrating toy, a mixture or moans and sobs leaving his lips.

“Good boy.” Shinsou nods as he takes his backpack over to Denki’s desk. “You can cum anytime you want, but don’t stop riding until I say. I’m gonna get some work done while my good boy patiently waits for his freedom.”

Kaminari would’ve whined in protest if he had any control of the sounds leaving him, but as e was, all he could do is ride himself towards another orgasm.

Shinsou sat at the blonde's desk like he said, and started working through math as he listened to the beautiful sounds behind him. He could hear the blonde getting closer to orgasm, and was just finishing the problems when the blonde did. Shinsou glances back to see static filled eyes and Denki looking absolutely wrecked as he whined and sobbed in overstimulation, but continued to ride the still vibrating cock.

“So pretty. But I think you have at least one more in you.” Shinsou hummed, taking out science and going back to seemingly ignoring the blonde even as he stroked himself under the desk.

He was right, of course, having put Kaminari through more without mind control so when he was done with his homework and heard Denki come again with a defeated sob, he walked over to wipe his tears. “Stop.” He ordered when Kaminari was bottomed out again, the blonde doing so immediately. Shinsou watched for a moment as the blonde squirmed with the vibrator sitting against his abused prostate. He stood up from his crouch to take his cock fully out of his pants and began jerking off over the blonde’s face. “When I cum, you can snap out of it.”

A small moan left Kaminari as his mouth hung open as though waiting which fuck if that wasn’t hot. Shinsou jerked himself off fast, panting hard as he neared his release. “Fuck, Denki. Shit you look so hot, fuck.” The purple haired boy rambled before cumming all over the blonde’s face and mouth with a shot.

Kaminari came back with a whimper as he practically threw himself off the cock, kicking it away as he licked the cum off his face. “Shinsou~” He was pouting as he trembled with over stimulation.

Shinsou was panting as he came down from his post orgasm high, but wasted no time dropping next to his boyfriend and petting his hair. “You okay?”

Kaminari leaned into the touch with a sigh and a nod.

“Good. You did so good, baby boy. You looked so good.” Shinsou smiled as he praised the blonde, reaching over the turn off the still vibrating cock.

“I was wondering where that thing went.” Kaminari hummed, eyeing the toy like it would attack him. “I can’t believe you kept it.”

“Seemed interesting. ...Did you like it?” Shinsou asked hesitantly.

“Hmmm. Ask me again when I’m not over sensitive to the point the carpet is too much.” The blonde huffed, making grabby hands at his purple haired boyfriend. “Cuddles.”

“Bath first.” Shinsou argued as he grabbed a blanket off the end of the bed to mummify his boyfriend before picking the smaller boy up princess style. “Then I’ll give you all the cuddles you want.”

“...Will you sing?” Kaminari asked, giving the tired boy puppy eyes.

“You know it’s gonna be emo music.” Shinsou sighed.as he grabbed towels on his way out.

“I just like your voice.” Kaminari hummed, snuggling into the taller boy as he was carried.

Shinsou flushed, refusing to risk making eye contact as he struggled open the door on his way to the baths. “...Then I guess it's fine.”

“Thanks, babe.”

Shinsou just hummed as a response as he unwrapped the smaller boy and got him rinsed off before getting him in nice, hot water and climbing in behind him.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asked after a while of sitting in the hot water, always the more anxious of the two, especially where his quirk was concerned.

“I’m fine, Toshi. Just tired and a little sore, but good sore. I promise, babe.” Kaminari hummed, practically boneless as Shinsou massaged his limbs. “You made sure I can safe word if I needed to, and I didn’t so we’re good.”

“...if you say so.” Shinsou sighed, massaging slim shoulders now in an attempt to stay out of his head.

“Are you okay, babe?” Kaminari asked, slowly turning around in the water to drape himself across Shinsou.

“I don’t know why you always ask me?” The purple haired boy sighs, not at all pouting.

“Because you like getting stuck in that pretty head of yours and I think you get lost in your hair or something ‘cause you always end up sad for no reason.” Kaminari pouts, scratching Shinsou’s scalp like he’s scratching behind a cat’s ears. He might as well be, the reaction is about the same as Shinsou leans into it and would probably be purring if he could.

“There are reasons.” Shinsou argues.

“No good reasons. I seriously wish you would give me those kids’ names. I bet some poltergeist lights would fix their shitty attitudes.”

“It’s fine. The headspace runs in the family.”

“I will physically fight self-love into both you and your mother if I have to.” Kaminari decides, now clinging to Shinsou like a spider monkey. “Come on. Let’s go back to the room. We both need cuddles.”

Shinsou can’t help but laugh as he holds onto the blonde to stand up and step out of the tub. “I think my dad would help you.”

“I knew there was a reason we got along so well.” Kaminari grins as he ruffles a towel through Shinsou’s hair to feel not completely useless.

“Pretty sure that was because he had someone to finally laugh at his god awful jokes.” Shinsou huffed as he dried himself before helping Kaminari so he could wrap them both in the oversized blanket and continue walking back to Shinsou’s room now.

“Psh! Those jokes were god tier!” Kaminari laughed as he once again spidermoneked around his boyfriend so the purple haired boy could open his door.

“God you have horrible humor. Why am I dating you again?” Shinsou scoffed as he closed his door.

“‘Cause ya love me?” Kaminari fake pouted, once again bringing out the puppy dog eyes as Shinsou fell back onto the bed so the blonde was laying on his chest.

Shinsou couldn’t hide his fond smile as he kissed the blonde’s nose. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Kaminari apparently wasn’t ready for Soft Shinsou as his face turned red and he hid in Shinsou’s chest. “Yeah- I-Uh- Good-Yeah. ...I love you too, babe.” He finally mumbled after stuttering out some nonsense.

Shinsou rearranged them into a better cuddle position before pulling his weighted blanket over them. “Nap time?”

Kaminari cuddled as close as physically possible. “Nap time.”

They fell asleep to the sound of the other’s breathing not long after.

#shinkami #bnha shinsou #hitoshi shinsou #denki kaminari #bnha denki #shinsou x denki #bnha #mha smut #quirkplay #kinktober #kinktober 2020

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msbarrows · 5 months

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Yesssss, the cylinder removal tool I ordered arrived today (the actual replacement chair lift cylinder arrived a couple of days ago) so I was finally able to replace the lift cylinder on my chair. The original cylinder definitely was not up to supporting the weight the chair was supposedly good for (iirc it was supposed to be good for something like 300 or 350 pounds, and I'm considerably less than that), and started doing the inching-down-over-time thing shortly before the 1-year warranty expired. At the time I considered getting a replacement lift cylinder under warranty, but then thought about how it'd undoubtedly be the exact same cylinder, and I'd rather replace it with a sturdier one if I was going to go to the trouble of replacing it.

I then procrastinated on looking up info about lift cylinders and how to replace them until this past fall, when the inching down was driving me bats. Because it'd go for days to weeks at a time with no issue, and then suddenly be letting me down multiple times in a day. What the hell.

Anyway, decided one of my Christmas presents to myself was going to be a replacement cylinder, and after looking at several different tutorials and videos about how to remove the old cylinder, I decided to also spring for a cylinder removal tool (the contraption in the first photo). The theory behind it is, it's two collars. You place them both on the cylinder right up against the seat bottom, leaving the one against the seat bottom loose enough that it can still slide, and tighten the other enough that it has a firm grip on the cylinder. Then you insert and gradually tighten two long screw that are placed vertically. As they tighten they put pressure against the loose collar, which puts pressure against the base of the chair, and this gradually works the cylinder out of the chair base (see 2nd photo).

Worked like a charm. Got the base freed, whacked the bottom of the old cylinder a couple of times with a hammer to knock it free from the wheeled part, put in the shiny new replacement cylinder, and voila, repaired chair!

In replacing the old cylinder I went for a Class 4 replacement, which is supposed to be capable of holding up to 1000 pounds (the original was probably a Class 3, which is good for people of average weight). I also decided I wanted to get a replacement with a longer stroke (min-max height difference) than the original, as the original didn't raise the chair seat high enough. Even with an ergonomic seat cushion on top (my tail bones appreciate the extra padding) it was a touch short - and this on a chair that I'd bought because it was also supposed to be big enough to accommodate tall people... yeah, I'm very disappointed with whomever wrote up the specs for this thing. Anyway, I measured the stroke of the original chair (lower the chair all the way, make a little mark against a vertical surface, raise it all the way, ditto, measure spacing between marks) and it came out to only about 3.25" (8.25cm). Eventually settled on a replacement cylinder with a stroke that was around 5.75" (14.6cm) whose maximum length was therefore a full 16.5" (41.9cm) in height (measured original after removing it - maximum length was 12.5" (31.75cm) so that's a pretty big difference).

I. Am. LOVING. It.

It's actually so tall that at maximum height the top of the seat almost reaches the horizontal support beneath the front of my desk, and the top of my ergonomic seat cushion is above said trim (see final photo). Sitting down on it at full extension with cushion, my toes touch the floor but my heels are actually slightly lifted, so that I had to let it down a little to get the proper seat height. I think it's now the first computer chair I have ever owned that is actually high enough for my leg length.

Well worth the <$100CAN total for the cylinder and removal tool.

#Computer Chair #Replacement chair lift cylinder #Presents to myself are usually the best presents #This one certainly ranks highly

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187days · 2 years

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Day Fifty

Everyone asks me if it’s awesome to be an APGOV teacher on election day, and, in case you were wondering about that, too, the answer is HECK YES. It’s especially awesome because my students are mostly seniors, so some of them are 18 and were voting for the first time today, and that’s so exciting.

I actually started class today with Major Case Project presentations, though. These were group projects (groups of three), so it only took about half the block to get through all the presentations, and they were really good. The cases they researched were Engel v. Vitale, Wisconsin v. Yoder, Tinker v. Des Moines, NYT Company v. United States, Schenck v. United States, McDonald v. Chicago, and Gideon v. Wainwright.

Funny thing: I had students share their presentations with me so I could project them from my own laptop and click the slides for them. When I minimized Chrome after the last presentation, my desktop wallpaper, which is a picture of BTS (because why wouldn’t it be?) was visible on my projector screen. The last group to present had been assigned Schenck v. United States, and the remark that flew out of my mouth was, “Well, speaking of involuntary servitude and being drafted...”

Cue a mix of laughter, groans, and one, “Too soon, Miss M!”

Anyways.

I jotted down feedback about students’ presentation skills (eye contact, vocal projection, elaborating on slides rather than just reading off of them, checking pronunciation ahead of time, etc, etc...), but I was grading them on their information: a summary of the facts of the case, an explanation of the Supreme Court’s decision (the majority opinion, and any concurring or dissenting opinions), and an analysis of the case’s significance. I’m pretty happy with how detailed their presentations were, and how clearly they understood the cases they were assigned. It’s a good start to the new quarter!

And, of course, after the presentations were over, we spent the remainder of the block discussing the elections. I addition to the congressional race, we’ve got state-level (governor, executive council, state senate and house) and county level (commissioners, sheriff, a few other positions) elections happening here. I talked about election trends, and admitted that I have no idea whether this election will follow said trends or not. It’s difficult to get good polling samples by phone nowadays, and newly registered voters are always under-represented. So we’ll see what happens. There will be much to discuss tomorrow.

Meantime, my World classes were so-so. I’m going to have to reassign seats in my Block 2 class because there was an incident between some students, and I don’t want a repeat (I also wrote it up, so there will be more disciplinary action taken by Dean 1). Plus, some spots in the room have just been too chatty. So, trying again... But the lesson itself went well once everyone settled, and it went well in Block 3, too. We read an article about the differences between presidential and parliamentary democracies, discussed how elections work in both systems, and discussed today’s election. Students had a lot of great questions and comments about our elections and those in other democratic countries. I also made a point to condemn the ugliness of this election cycle. I repeated something I always say about violence, whether it’s words or actions: anybody can do it; it’s not impressive and it doesn’t show off someone’s toughness; and it’s better- and takes more strength- to practice self-control and discipline, and to actually do something positive in the world. When we vote, it shouldn’t be about hurting “the other guy,” but about trying to make our country better. It’s supposed to be a patriotic act.

I hope that point resonated. It seemed like it did.

And after prepping for tomorrow’s lessons and attending a brief faculty meeting, I did, in fact, go and cast my vote. If you’re part of the electorate, I hope you did, too!

#teaching #teacher #teachblr #edublr #educhums #education #high school #social studies #conversations about current events #election day #Dean 1 #BTS #day fifty

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smol-bean-of-the-smols · 6 months

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having the opposite of the problem i thought i'd have

so i have a presentation in art class on monday and the slides are. not done yet (BUT IM WORKING ON IT) and we're supposed to present for like 5 minutes

and i thought. huh. i've only ever presented for like a minute and a half with a 3 minute requirement so i thought maybe i'd need to put more into my slides to reach 5 minutes

guess

guess how long my current presentation is based on a stopwatch and a practice run (the last slide isnt even done yet)

TEN MINUTES

DOES TIME EVEN EXIST???? THAT DIDNT FEEL NEARLY ENOUGH LIKE TEN MINUTES

anyways im gonna have to cut out a lot of slides of examples of this artist's work which. is what takes up most of the presentation which is definitely the problem but like. these things are cool :(

but NOT the problem i expected

#bean's random thoughts #i thought i was being a bit cheap having restraint and not showing MORE of her work but #hahaha guess it wasnt enough restraint lmao

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applejarjar · 3 years

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I shouldn't have taken this women's lit class

I really just don't 'get' science fiction, it just makes my brain hurt unnecessarily as I try to comprehend what each sentence means

#I knew I was going to struggle with this class when I saw that we were looking at pretty much only Sci fi books #It's just so much work translating all this and the scrunching of my brow gives me migraines #Like rn I have these 3 stories that I'm supposed to summarize and talk about for 5 minutes #And the first one is incomprehensible #Like it was written in 1974 and all the words are modeled after a caricature of someone from the 60s #So right now it's just presenting as inflated nonsense #So I thought I'd read the second one which I actually understand but it's from a book called alien sex #And is about my least favorite topic ever #So theoretically I can do that summary just fine but I wanted to ruminate a bit on it before I spit something on paper #So now I'm reading the third story and I get the gist of it but it's all the convoluted in between that I don't understand #And there's also like this side plot that I'm not getting #So I don't know how to incorporate that into my summary #Also it's getting pretty late and unfortunately I need to be up early tomorrow #So I'm like do I do this one and then call it a night #Also like I only get one slide on the presentation so I'm pretty much just writing a script on a seperate paper #And reading off of that anyway #And I have time between my post appointment and class #Plus we don't actually have to have the script posted until Thursday #And we'd still have to put all of our pieces together anyway so it's not like I'm behind or anything #So I think I'll just finish these slides with quotes and the kind of short story it is and then go to bed #But anyway I like watching Sci fi I just don't like reading it #Like there's so much going on here #And I just want to know what's happening without doing this whole breakdown in my mind

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v-hope · 4 years

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Tiger Lily

Pairing: Jeon Jeongguk x Reader

Genre: Fluff, slight angst, smut, established relationship, College!AU

Word Count: 11.3k

Summary: After finding out your boyfriend was the one to secretly leave flowers in your seat every week back in high school, you have many questions he’s willing to answer. And after finding out the reason the two of you had not gotten together back then was because of your ex best friend, the two of you decided that, first, you were never letting anyone else get in between you, and, second, you were making the most out of your time together from now on.

—Alternarively, the one in which you and your boyfriend finally get your place all to your own and he decides he’s not letting his nonexistent sexual experience stop him from having his way with you anymore.

Warnings: Virgin!JK (a.k.a. male virginity loss), fingering, cunnilingus, handjob (kinda), penetrative sex, protected sex, very slight (male) overstimulation, shy and confident guk keep switching places (when do they not), just very lovey dovey, very intimate.

A/N: Helloo, this is part 33 of my Social Media AU Tiger Flower, but you can still read it if you don’t follow the story. I’m actually shocked by how long this turned out to be but wbk I’m soft as hell for this couple 🥺 so please give it lots of love because I put a lot of effort in this ksñaks. I hope you guys enjoy! Oh, and also, I’m bolding the first and last sentence of the smut part, so if you don’t wanna read it just skip what’s in between the bolded words lol.

“I’ll get it” Yoongi announced when someone called on the door, leaving you and Jimin alone on the sofa as he rushed up to get it.

As soon as he opened it and Jeongguk stepped inside your shared place, bowing politely to your friends before his stare fell on you, you felt your heart race. Saying nothing, you gave him a closed mouth smile, having him do the same at the sight of yours. Although it hadn’t been longer than a week, it had been the longest you had gone without seeing each other ever since you became friends, and, even though you weren’t really showing it right then —as for some reason you were nervous as hell to see each other again—, it was unbelievable how happy you were at the mere sight of one another.

“We were just leaving” Yoongi informed, catching up on what was going on. After all, you had told both him and Jimin that your boyfriend would be coming over to talk things out.

“We were?” Jimin asked with furrowed eyebrows. “I just got home”.

“Let’s give them some privacy” he tilted his head towards the opened door so Jimin would tag along.

“I can go to my room for that”.

“Yah! We all know your nosy ass will eavesdrop everything that way” Yoongi called him out, and you didn’t miss the way Jeongguk had to lower his head not to show his amused smile, being already used to your roommates’ endless bickering antics by now. “Come on, let’s go see Jin hyung at his pub”.

Simple as that, Jimin left your side in a heartbeat to go to the door. “Well, I won’t say no to drinking” he admitted, stopping right in front of Jeongguk and pointing an accusing finger at him. “Take care of my baby”.

“My baby” Guk corrected him, mumbling his words low enough for you not to hear.

Although, unlike you, Jimin did hear —for that had been your boyfriend’s intention—, he said nothing, instead glaring at him the way he always did whenever that discussion over you took place at least twice a week, and walking out of the apartment for once and for all. Yoongi, on the other hand, gave the two of you a small thumbs up before following behind his friend.

And just like that, with the sound of the door closing, silence was quick to take over the room.

This was probably the first time ever since you met that neither of you knew what to say. Fuck, this was probably the first time in your life you didn’t know how to start a conversation. And it wasn’t like you could go over there and kiss him like you were dying to, could you? You had not completely made up yet. That’s what he was here for after all. To talk, not to make out. Although you weren’t really against that idea, and he most definitely was not either — the way his eyes fixed on your lips even all the way over from the door was enough to tell you so.

It had been a good couple of days since you had last seen each other after all.

“You, uh…” your voice came out quite unsteady as you stood up, fixing the plain t-shirt and cotton pyjama pants you were wearing. “Are you hungry?” you asked, walking towards the kitchen and having him quietly follow right behind as you entered it. “Wanna eat something? Drink something?”

He shook his head no when you turned around to look at him, resting your hands on the counter as you leaned against it. “Just wanna clear up your questions”.

You nodded, for that was what he was here for after all, to clear everything up so the two of you could go back to normal. So you could go back to being the happy couple you both loved so much.

“So what are they?” he pushed it when you stood there with no signs of wanting to speak any time soon.

“I just…” you shrugged, making yourself comfortable by sitting at the edge of the counter. “Why didn’t you tell me before that you were the one sending me flowers back then?”

He pouted in confusion as he came closer to you. “When?”

“When we were friends…”

“It would’ve been out of place back then, petal” he explained. “We were just friends and you were into someone else. It would’ve been awkward for us and I really didn’t wanna lose you as my friend” his voice couldn’t help but come out rather bitterly at that, remembering all the thoughts that had invaded his mind when he first saw his chance to let you know it had been him all along, all the thoughts that kept him back from telling you.

“And when we started dating?” you tilted your head. “You had so many chances to tell me, Guk…”

“When we started dating I just didn’t think it mattered anymore” he confessed, unconsciously resting his hands on your knees. “I had you, I really didn’t care about it anymore”.

“You could’ve still told me…”

“And how was I supposed to bring it up? It’s not something I can just say out of nowhere” he pointed out, having you nodding understandingly. “And what was I supposed to say anyway? Hey there, I’m your flower boy?”

A light laugh escaped his mouth when you playfully shoved him away at his words, mocking what you had once told him was the confession you had been expecting from your secret admirer. Holding your hands, he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter, and hence, closer to him. Taking advantage of that, you intertwined your fingers, enjoying the familiar warmth of his hands as you admired the way he softly swayed them together.

“This is so surreal” you sighed.

“In a good or a bad way?”

You shook your head, not being able to give him a proper answer. “I just… I always wanted it to be you so bad, and for a good while I was sure it was you, but it made sense that you were into Sooyeon instead”.

Jeongguk furrowed his eyebrows, the mere thought of ever feeling something for her making him want to gawk. “How could that have ever made sense?”

“She was more like you” you pointed out, rushing to make your point before he could snap at you for comparing the two of them. “Like, yes, she was popular and had lots of friends, but she was the most quiet out of all of us. Believe it or not, she was really shy back then, an—”

“And why would I have wanted more of the same?”

“Huh?” you were taken aback by his question.

“You’re saying she was like me, then I don’t understand why would I have wanted to be with her” he said as if it was obvious. “If I barely ever speak and so did she… I mean, how would that have even worked out?”

You shrugged, not being able to help the small smile that had started curving up your lips. “Is that why you fall for loud asses like me? So someone else will make up for your lack of talking?”

He chuckled at the teasing tone in your voice, allowing his hands to travel up to your thighs and tenderly drawing circles on them with his thumbs. “Not really” your eyebrows knitted together at his words. “There were a lot of loud girls who would not shut up to save their lives in our class and I didn’t really like them. If anything, they annoyed the hell out of me”.

“Why’d you even want to be with me then?” you wondered, being genuinely curious as to what about your loud, chatty antics, made you different to the rest of your loud classmates.

“You really don’t know why I’ve always liked you?”

You shook your head no. “Why is it?”

Taking in a deep breath, he took a step back so he could collect his thoughts before answering your question. “I don’t think you even remember when I just transferred to our high school in the second year, let alone my first day there. Mrs. Kang made me sit on the empty table next to yours and then proceeded to pass around a surprise test, and me being me, of course I forgot my pencil case at home that day,” he huffed, causing you to chuckle under your breath. “So I just sat there internally freaking out because I couldn’t bring myself to ask anyone for a pen, like I couldn’t move and my voice literally wouldn’t come out no matter how hard I tried” a breathy laugh abandoned his lips. “And I was accepting the idea of turning in a blank paper when suddenly a pen was placed on my table. So my eyes followed your hand back to your table and there you were with your eyes stuck to the test, solving the math problems like you had not just saved me from failing on my very first day as the new kid,” you laughed at his dramatism, however, you managed to remember about that moment. “And then as soon as the class ended you were surrounded by people and you were all talking nonstop and I didn’t know how to give you your pen back, so I tried to slide it into your table but you caught me and told me I could keep it, that it was a ‘welcome present’, and then you smiled at me and honestly that was it for me, Y/N”.

“It was?” you wondered in awe, eyes shining when he nodded.

“I didn’t like loud and popular people up until then, which is kinda weird considering Tae’s my best friend” a throaty laugh escaped your lips at his remark. “But although you were those things, you always got me. You just… understood, in a way. Like, you didn’t pressure me to talk or made me feel bad for not doing so, like the rest of the popular kids did. If anything, you would try to make me feel like I wasn’t all on my own whilst leaving me alone like I wanted” he tilted his head, wondering if what he just said had made any sense, knowing you understood his point when you smiled ever so sweetly. “Like when you added me to your group project one time and let me send my part instead of having to go hang out with you and your friends for an entire afternoon, or when you would invite me to your birthdays along with the rest of the class and then proceeded to tell me not to feel pressured to go if I didn’t feel like it. And even now, ever since the beginning you made me feel good about not really being into partying and barely ever talking”.

“You’ve been more talkative with me lately, though” you pointed out as you mindlessly played with the hair at the back of his head. “Although this is the most I’ve ever heard you talk”.

He chuckled, playfully pinching your thighs. “Don’t get used to it”.

“I won’t, I won’t” you chuckled, planting a chaste kiss to his chest. “Anyway, you said I get you but I didn’t let you do your part of the project on your own this year, though” you reminded him with a feigned pout that he couldn’t help but find the cutest. “And I force you to spend time with me pretty much everyday now. Will you forgive me?”

Jeongguk let out a throaty laugh, leaning in just enough for his lips to press to your cheek. “I got to date you now thanks to that, so you’re forgiven” he planted another kiss to the curved up corner of your smiling mouth. “And funny how you think you’re forcing me when half the time it’s me asking to hang out”.

You giggled. “We love a 50/50 relationship”.

Tilting your head ever so slightly to take a better look at him after hearing him chuckle, you were greatly surprised by his lips pressing down on yours.

Although you had jokingly said that last sentence, it was not far from the truth at all. It wasn’t just you chasing after him and wanting to be with him all the time, but him wanting the exact same all the same. So you could tell by the way he was kissing you right then. It was slow, painfully slow, yet the way his hands were firmly cupping your face to keep you from moving away as he deepened the kiss, could not fail to tell you just how much he had missed you, needed you, those past few days you were apart.

Pressing one small peck to his mouth, you tugged at the fabric of his sweatshirt to pull him closer to your body, later wrapping your arms tightly around his waist and resting your face on his chest — a content sigh escaping your mouth when his arms did the same with you and his lips kissed the crown of your head.

“It really never would’ve crossed my mind that you liked me way before the whole flowers thing...”

“Not even when that one summer we would keep running into each other at the park and you would catch me staring from time to time?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

The heat didn’t wait to reach your cheeks at that. You remembered that very well, for it was the summer you caught feelings for him as well, the one right before you entered your last year of high school. You would go out for walks on your own just for the sake of doing something other than staying in texting your friends all day long, and would run into him most of the time while he walked his dog, the one you now knew was named Gold.

Although you had talked in class more than once —or well, you had talked to him more than once—, you were not friends, and hence, neither of you got the guts to come close to one another to try and start small talk. However, that didn’t stop either of you from staring at each other when you were not looking. Sometimes you would catch each other staring, though, and you couldn’t stop an amused smile from curving up your lips when you remembered one particular time he had choked on air when you smiled at him after catching his eyes being fixed on you, just like he had choked earlier this year when you had asked him if you could sit next to him in class. It seemed to be a habit of his by now, at least when it came to you.

“I thought you were just judging me over the way I was always sniffing the flowers and taking pictures of them…” you admitted, for although a part of you did want to believe he was into you back then, you couldn’t really bring yourself to fully believe it.

He pulled you back by your shoulders so he could give you a questioning look. “Judging you with heart eyes?”

“Yah!” you called him out, feeling your cheeks burn.

Jeongguk laughed, shaking his head in amusement. “I really just couldn’t take my eyes away from you, you looked so hypnotized by them and it was the cutest to me”.

“Is that why you thought about secretly giving me flowers?” you couldn’t help but ask.

He nodded, lowering his head. “I know it would’ve been easier to just talk to you, but I really couldn’t bring myself to do it. Fuck, I even was a nervous wreck this year when you first talked to me,” a breathy laugh escaped his mouth. “So I just… thought I could do that for a while until I got the guts to confess. Although I guess a part of me really wanted you to find out, because whilst looking for different kinds flowers I came across tiger lilies and, apart from finding out they were my birth flower, their meaning just fit so well with what I wanted to do and I just—”

“What do they mean?” you asked.

“It’s cheesy” he let you know with pleading eyes, silently asking you not to make him say it out loud. “Like, really cheesy”.

“Come on,” you begged with pouty lips, getting a hold of his hands. “I’ll look it up on the internet either way if you don’t tell me”.

He shook his head in both amusement and embarrassment altogether, knowing well enough you would do just that if he did not comply right then. So, biting down on his bottom lip, he said: “Please, love me”.

Your eyebrows furrowed in clear confusion. “Huh?”

“They mean ‘please, love me’” he clarified at the sight of your puzzled face, and your heart skipped a beat as you froze in your place. “I told you it was cheesy”.

“No, no, it’s not that. I just… is that what…” you pressed your lips together as you tried to compose yourself. “Did you… do you mean that?” it was now his turn to look confused, tilting his head to the side because of it. “You want me to love you?”

And although to you it seemed like a complicated question to answer, to him, on the other hand, it wasn’t. So, nodding his head immediately, he let you know that was exactly what he wanted.

“Back then, even when we were teenagers and barely ever talked, and I knew nothing about love, I was convinced I was in love with you… even if I knew it was one sided. And now that I got to be your friend and then your boyfriend, I…” he took in a deep breath, staring down to your hands in his before his eyes went back to yours. “I know more than ever that I love you. I love you so much, Y/N. And I know loving someone takes time, and I don’t want to push you or rush you at all, but if you could just try and find it in you to love me back someday, I—”

The small chuckle that abandoned your lips caused his mouth to shut close in an instant, not understanding what was so funny about his words and for a split second there feeling uneasy. However, all his worries went away when you cupped his face in your hands, staring at his lips for a brief second before your eyes went up to fix on his.

“I already love you, you dummy”.

Not giving him time to process your truthful words, if anything, knowing it would take him a while to do so, you leaned in to steal a small kiss from his lips, pecking them ever so tenderly a couple of times until he smiled, finally understanding the meaning of your words and placing his hands on the back of your neck to keep you from pulling away as he sucked on your bottom lip.

“Say it again?” he pleaded in between kisses, not being able to erase the huge smile on his face.

You chuckled teasingly. “Nope”.

“Yah,” he let go fully of your mouth. “You’re always speaking nonstop and now that I for once ask you to say something, you won’t?”

“Exactly” you smiled brightly, giggling when he squinted his eyes at you and leaning in to peck his mouth a couple more times. “I love you, bun” you cooed, being done with your teasing way earlier than you had planned to.

And it was the way you loved him back, along with the way you had gone back to call him that pet name he was the softest about, what had him giving you one of those bunny smiles of his that made you come up with that name to begin with.

“You won’t say it back?” you wondered, batting your lashes for him to take a hint.

Nevertheless, he shook his head no. “I already said it twice, we’re even”.

“Yah!” you lightly shoved him off, only to have him standing right back in between your legs like he had been during your entire conversation. “Jeongguk-ah~”

“Yes, baby?” he played innocent.

“Tell me you love me” you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest.

Letting out a light laugh, he cupped your face and gave your mouth a chaste kiss. “I love you, petal”.

You smiled sweetly, allowing him to plant a few more kisses on your mouth before you pressed your lips to the spot under his jawline, resting your face on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you once more.

“You should’ve confessed back then” you lamented, looking up to his face yet only being met by the sight of his chin. “Why didn’t you?”

He sighed, resting his chin on the top of your head and tightening the hold of his arms around your waist.

There it was, the most important question out of them all. The one he had came here to talk about, yet he had completely forgotten about as he had gotten caught up on making up with you instead. And now that things were finally good between you two, he couldn’t help but fear bringing up said person and what she had done would make things worse all over again.

“I was going to” he let you know. “That was the plan all along”.

Your eyebrows knitted together, sitting up so you could fix your questioning eyes on his troubled expression. “Then why didn’t you?” you repeated your previous question.

He sighed heavily, causing your body to tense up, as you knew right then you wouldn’t like what he was about to tell you. “Sooyeon…”

“What?” you pushed it when he stopped right after mentioning her name. “What did she do?!”

He bit the inside of his cheek. Although he had found out about everything a few days ago and had gotten some time to come to terms with it, it still hurt just as much. All the lost time and what it could have been, all the possibilities that could’ve come with having been with you as a couple ever since your last year of high school, still made his blood boil.

“She found out I was your flower boy one morning and she told me I was wasting my time…”

“What?!” your loud tone was a mix of both worry and anger. “Jeongguk, what did she tell you?”

He shrugged, a weak smile curving up his lips. “Does it matter anymore?”

“Of course it does” you argued. “It does to me”.

Letting out another sigh, knowing well enough he could not avoid this anymore, as you deserved to know the whole story just like he did, he grabbed your hands and gently held them in his — partially wanting to let you know it was alright, partially wanting to feel like it was alright. “She said you had told her you hoped it wasn’t me because you would have to give me a chance out of pity,” the look in your eyes right then made his heart hurt. “Because I was not popular, and I barely ever talked, so you would always be bored around me yet would have to pretend like you were not…”

“Bun, I never said that. I neve—”

“I know” he cut you off before you could freak out completely. “Petal, I know that now”.

“No, but she lied!” you raised your voice for him to hear you out. “I’m never bored around you, you know that, right? And the few times we got to talk back then I was never bored either, I…”

“Baby, I know…” he soothed you, cupping your face and pressing his forehead on yours. “I know. It’s okay”.

“Guk, I had feelings for you back then” you confessed, feeling your voice break.

He took in a shaky breath. Somehow, hearing that coming from you had hurt more than finding out from someone else like he had a few days ago. “It’s okay”.

And it was. It really was. You were together now. Somehow, you had managed to find your way back to each other years later and didn’t have to know what your lives were like without each other. However, the fact that it was alright, it didn’t mean it did not hurt. Because it did hurt. Thinking you could’ve been together ever since three years ago. How you wouldn’t have dated that asshole who broke your heart, and how he wouldn’t have gone three years of his life believing he was not enough. All of that, was not something the two of you could easily let go of.

“So all this time... you really believed I had said that about you? Even when we were friends, when we became a couple…” your voice sounded more broken by the second. “You let me back into your life even when I had supposedly said all those things back then?”

“Call me delusional, but I still really wanted to be close to you” he sheepishly admitted. That’s how he knew he would always have a soft spot for you, no matter what. “And anyway, baby, in my mind that was the high school you. You didn’t seem like the person who said those things back then at all when I got to actually meet you” he reassured you, then bitterly adding: “Now I can see why”.

You breathed uneasily. “You’re too good to me…”

“Yah, Y/N” he called you out immediately. “I told you, we’re not doing this”.

“But I really don’t deserve y—”

Your words were cut off by his lips softly pressing down on yours. Just like you would always call him out whenever he thought less of himself, hating it when he did that, he, too, hated hearing you say stuff like that about yourself.

“It doesn’t matter anymore” he whispered against your lips.

“Yes, it does…” you pouted. “She lied to both of us and we believed her. We could’ve been together ever since...”

“I know…”

“Three years, Guk. We lost three fucking years” you reminded him. “What if I hadn’t asked you to be my partner in the project this year, I mean, I wouldn’t even have you in my life and all because of her”.

“I know” he couldn’t hide the bitterness in his words this time. Because he knew very well what you were feeling, for he had felt the exact same a few days ago. “But can we just… forget about it?”

“No, I want to beat the shit out of her” your determined, poisonous tone, could do no other than earn a loud giggle from him.

“Do that later?” he pressed his lips to the crook of your neck. “She already took enough time away from us, let’s not let her get in between us anymore. We’re making up now, it’s just us two...”

It was now your turn to giggle, relaxing under his loving touch and nodding your head in agreement before you leaned in to briefly press your mouth to his jaw. “We’ll just have to catch up on all those lost years then”.

He laughed under his breath, cupping your face once more as he leaned in just enough for his lips to faintly brush yours. “I guess we’ll just have to do that”.

Enjoying the sound of that, you puckered your lips up right as his soft ones came in contact with them, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck so you could deepen the kiss. Humming contentedly when his tongue made its way inside your mouth, you felt his hands let go of your face and wander down your back, holding onto your hips to bring you even closer to the edge of the kitchen counter, at which you reacted by wrapping your legs around his hips to help him create the friction between your bodies he was asking for.

You found yourself letting go of his neck to dig your hands inside his sweatshirt instead, smiling coyly at the way you felt goosebumps form on his skin. You had discovered not long ago he was quite ticklish on his sides, and you absolutely loved faintly running your hands along them just to get that reaction out of him.

He breathed heavily when your fingertips made their way up his abs, letting his hands go down lower from their current spot on your back and placing them on your ass instead, giving it a light squeeze as he took advantage on said action to grind his hips against your center.

“Mm…” you let out quietly, finding out just then how much you had missed feeling him close like that.

“You think they’ll be home soon?” he asked, referring to your two chaotic friends, as he peppered a trail of kisses down to your neck.

“They must be just getting started on drinking” you let him know, a smile curving up your lips at the sensation of his wet ones sucking on your skin. “Why? You got something in mind?”

The chuckle that left his mouth tickled your skin, feeling one last kiss being placed on it before his lips were briefly back on yours. “Only if you’re up for it”.

Your lips parted in a bright smile, without another word, shoving him lightly out of the way so you could place your feet on the ground — gently taking his hand in yours and having his adoring eyes stuck to you as you guided him over to your room.

Once inside, and as you let go of his hold so you could turn around to lock the door just in case your friends decided to come home earlier than expected, his eyes fell on the multiple tiger lilies he had left on your seat over the last two days, along with the bouquet of flowers he had sent over to your place earlier that day, all of them carefully lying on your desk by one side of the bed. Smiling at the fact that you had kept them all —as he had been worried you would’ve thrown them away when he first sent them—, he turned around towards you right as you were done with the door, cupping your face immediately and bringing his lips to meet yours in a quite needy kiss.

Walking you backwards towards the bed as he refused to break the hot contact between your mouths, he helped you lie down on it as he crawled over your figure, parting your legs open with his knee so he could lie in between them — a light laugh of his resonating against your mouth when your hands were back into his sweatshirt and the trace of your fingertips tickled his sides.

Wanting more of you as well, he found himself digging his hands inside your t-shirt just like he had grown fond of ever since that one time in his room, letting them make their way up to your breasts so he could tease them a little bit. Only, this time, he was met not by the thin fabric of your bra, but with your soft skin instead — feeling your nipples instantly harden at his sudden touch as a small hum abandoned your lips.

Not being able to hide his —very pleasant— surprise, he withdrew his lips from yours; wide eyes staring at you before they travelled down to your still covered breasts.

At his quite cute reaction, you couldn’t help but let out a giggle. “I’m wearing pyjamas, is it really that surprising?”

It shouldn’t be. He knew that very well, considering you had not once worn a bra whenever you slept over at each other’s. However, being so caught up in the moment, he had seemed to forget about that altogether.

Deciding to say nothing, he leaned down instead to trap your bottom lip in between his again, sucking lightly on it as his hands squeezed your breasts in such a way that left you wanting more in a heartbeat.

“Mm… fuck” you moaned ever so quietly when one of his thumbs teased your nipple.

Smiling at your reaction, he moved his kisses all the way down from your mouth to your collarbone, feeling your chest heavily move up and down when his mouth came close to it. Firmly placing his hands on the curve under your breasts, he lifted your body up with ease to adjust you up enough on the mattress so that your still covered breasts were now right under his face.

Not giving you a second to process what had just happened, he lowered his face to your chest, pressing open mouth kisses on the fabric that was still covering it, and getting another moan out of you when his hand went back to teasing one of your breasts under your t-shirt, while his hot mouth sucked on your other one over it.

“Guk, fuck” you gasped, feeling goosebumps form on your skin when his lips travelled down to your bellybutton and his hands abandoned your chest to tug at the end of your top instead.

Biting down on his lip, he glanced up to you before doing anything else. “Is it okay if I?”

Although his question had been left incomplete, you answered him with an eager nod of your head, wanting nothing but to feel his wet mouth on your sensitive buds already.

Tongue wetting his lips in anticipation, he lifted your t-shirt over your chest — leaving it still on yet completely exposing you to his eyes. And it was the way his eyes fixed on your naked chest like the world had just stopped, what managed to make you nervous enough to bring your arms up to cover them.

“I would’ve worn something hotter for you to look at if I had known this was going to happen” you couldn’t help but joke your way out of it.

Jeongguk laughed lightly, leaning down to peck your neck a couple of times, trying to ease your sudden nervousness. “I don’t think anything could ever top this”.

Because although he was sure getting to see you in lingerie would be one hell of a sight, he loved this view the most. He loved looking at you, with absolutely nothing on the way of your body and his eyes.

And just like that, his teasing yet genuine words were the last push you needed to relax under both his touch and stare, allowing him to gently grab your wrists and remove your arms from off your chest. Receiving a small nod from you when his questioning eyes fixed on yours for a second, he planted two short kisses to your mouth before they were back on your chest.

Your back curved up with the first lap of his tongue on one of your nipples, feeling your breathing become heavier when his lips wrapped around it without any kind of warning.

“Jeongguk…” you moaned in what sounded like a plea.

Wanting to hear more of his name coming out as one of your pretty moans, he swirled his tongue harder around your bud, right as his thumb teased the one he had left unattended until then - not many seconds going by before he moved his mouth over to it so he could tease it as well.

“Fuck,” you gasped when his mouth sucked on your skin. “Jeongguk”.

Catching on the way you had pushed your hips slightly up to try and get some friction out of his already hardened length, he found himself giving you one slow thrust that had you both moaning whilst wanting more. Instead of grinding on you again, however, he let go of your breast and let his hand wander down to your pants instead, palming your already wet core through them before he fidgeted with their waistband.

“Please,” you begged.

“Hm?” he hummed against your jaw, as he placed a sweet kiss to it before going to your lips.

“Your fingers” you managed to blurt out, feeling like you were losing your mind over the way his long fingers were now teasingly digging inside your pants. “Jeongguk, please”.

Although he found out right then that he loved hearing you beg, he wanted the most to make you feel good, which is why he was quick to comply with your wishes. Palming you now over your damp panties, he felt your body shake at the contact — a gasp escaping your mouth when his fingers made the fabric aside and they started rubbing circle motions on your folds.

You felt warmer and way more wet than he had expected, and he felt the sudden urge to run his tongue along your folds to get a taste of your arousal. However, right then, he knew what you wanted, what you needed, were his fingers inside of you. So, he did just that.

“Ah, fuck” you threw your head harder against the mattress when one of his fingers made its way into you.

“You’re so tight...” he breathed out in amazement, feeling himself get harder at the thought of what it would be like to feel your walls tightening around his cock instead.

Slowly shifting his finger inside your responsive walls, he focused on taking in your facial expressions to try and figure out what pace you liked the most — sticking with a faster one after one particular moan had escaped your lips right after he speeded up his pistoning motions.

“Like that?” he asked nevertheless, planting a lingering kiss to your chest.

“Yes” you managed to blurt out, grinding your hips against his finger, being desperate for more.

Catching up on that, he added another digit, hissing at the way your walls had seemed to tighten even more around them. Opening and closing his fingers in scissoring motions as he tried to stretch you out so he could move around with ease, he felt your breathing become heavier by the second, letting out a choked moan when he experimented by curling his digits against your walls.

“Oh, fuck” you whimpered when he curled them once more, managing to hit with them that one spot that could make you come undone in a matter of minutes.

“Feels good?” he asked, admiring your factions as you were too immersed in your own pleasure to remember how to speak.

“Mhm…” you answered with a simple sound instead, mewling when his motions sped up their pace. “So good”.

“Fuck,” he blurted when he felt your juices running down your slit. “Baby, you’re dripping”.

“Jeongguk, don’t stop” you begged when you felt his fingers no longer moving inside of you, desperately grabbing his wrist when you felt them start to pull out. “Don’t stop”.

He reassured you with an intoxicating kiss that made you dizzy. “I wanna eat you out”.

Your breath hitched at his low words, feeling your walls tighten when you opened your eyes to meet his hungry ones. And you didn’t have to even think before you were nodding your head. You needed him, that was all you knew. No matter if it were his fingers, his mouth or his cock, you were desperate for him right then, and would let him have you however he wanted.

Kissing your lips one more time, he felt you whimper against his mouth when his fingers pulled out of you, causing you to close your legs as you tried to replace the way they felt with the friction your thighs could provide you with. It didn’t last long, though, for Jeongguk was quick to pull them open once more so he could remove your pyjama pants along with your panties, licking his lips in anticipation at the perfect sight he got of your dripping folds.

“Fuck, you’re so hot” he rasped, causing your cheeks to burn and another whimper escape your mouth when his thumb brushed faintly over your clit.

“Jeongguk, please” begging seemed to be your only way of communication that night, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying the hell out of it.

Pulling you closer to him, he placed your thighs over his shoulders before he finally brought his face up to your heat. Worrying for a split second there, as he was not entirely sure as to what was the right way to do this, he decided to go with his instinct —just like he had done seconds ago when his fingers were inside of you— and begin by slowly sliding his tongue through your folds. The way your body had trembled and a moan of yours had reached his ears as soon as he did, let him know he was doing well.

Delving his tongue in your slit, you instinctively reacted by pulling your hips slightly away from him at the pleasure his ministrations were giving you, and Jeongguk didn’t hesitate before grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer to his mouth once more, sucking on your wet heat before he pushed his tongue inside.

“Oh, God” you whimpered when he started fucking you with his tongue. “J-Jeongguk, yes”.

Moaning loudly when he pushed a finger back into you, you grabbed onto one of your breasts with one hand, as your other one travelled down to entangle your fingers in his already messy hair, earning a muffled moan from him when you pulled lightly at it.

Curling his finger inside you the way he had found out drove you crazy, his mouth let go of your heat, planting a small kiss on it before he licked his way up your folds and stopped by your clit. Although he was not experienced in all this at all, he did know stimulating that small button of yours could work wonders, and he was willing to give it a try. The second he swirled his tongue around it and you cried out in pleasure, he knew it wouldn’t take much longer before you reached your climax if he kept applying pressure on that particular spot.

Tightening his hold on one of your thighs to keep you from moving away as your body writhed beneath him, he added a second finger inside you, sucking on your clit before his tongue came in contact with it again.

“Mm—ah, Jeongguk. Fuck” you cried incoherently, curling your toes as you felt your climax getting closer. “Fuck, d-don’t stop”.

Feeling your walls tighten around his fingers, he could tell as well that you were close. Pushing his digits deeper into you, he managed to hit once more that one spot you needed him the most.

“Right there” you let him know, curving your back when he followed your words and his fingers brushed over it once more. “Oh, righ—fuck!” you whimpered.

“Let go, baby” he rasped, replacing his mouth on your clit with his thumb and pressing down on it in circle motions. “Cum for me”.

The mere sound of that, along with the way his mouth had came in contact with your folds as his fingers kept fucking into you, were all you needed to finally come undone under his touch, crying out his name one last time as his fingers helped you ride out your orgasm.

Closing your eyes and letting the aftershocks take over your body, you moaned lightly at the feel of your boyfriend’s tongue running along your slit, tasting the juices that were dripping down on it and licking you clean before he made his way back next to you, hovering over your figure and kissing you hungrily yet somehow gently. One of his thumbs caressed your hip as his other one came in contact with your chin, drawing circular motions on your skin as you kissed him back — eyes still closed as you felt your body finally steadying.

“Was that alright?” he asked, planting a lingering kiss to your mouth.

Opening your eyes, you looked at him with disbelief written all over them. “It was amazing” you reassured him with a smile nevertheless, allowing his mouth to come in contact with yours once more.

Pulling him closer by wrapping one arm around his neck, you felt something hard poke one of your sides, causing you to undo the kiss and stare down to the outline of his hardened member against the loose fabric of his pants.

“Want me to help you with that again?” you teasingly raised one of your eyebrows, earning a small lip bite from him at the memories of how good you had made him feel not too long ago.

Although it took him a second, he nodded his head. A smile curved up the corners of your lips at that, only for it to be replaced with a frown when his hand stopped you from reaching for his cock.

“Not like that” he shook his head.

You pouted in confusion. “Then how…”

Wetting his lips with his tongue, he leaned down to brush his mouth with yours. “I want to fuck you”.

You felt a wave of heat hit your body at his words, for although he had just seen and touched pretty much all of you, and you had just offered to suck him off, you had thought that would be as far as you’d get, just like that one time in his room when it had led to nothing else.

“W-What?” your voice betrayed you by stuttering a bit.

“I want to fuck you” he repeated, sounding just as determined as he had before. “You don’t want to?”

“No, I want to!” you were quick to clarify. Fuck, you wanted to. “It’s just… You sure you want this? With me?”

“I’ve wanted to have you like this for so long, Y/N. I could not be any more sure” his words sent shivers up your spine. “Besides, sorry to remind you, petal, but you are my girlfriend, so…”

“That I am, huh?” you played along, pulling him down by the neck of his sweatshirt so your lips could meet his. “Then I guess I’ll be good to you tonight and let you have your way with me”.

Smiling contentedly at your words, he wasted no time in crashing his mouth on yours, burying one of his hands under your t-shirt to give one of your breasts a tight squeeze before he tugged at the end of the fabric — eyebrows furrowing slightly and puzzled eyes opening when you held your top down by pressing your arms to your sides, not allowing him to pull it up so he could take it off.

“Wha—”

“It’s unfair you’re about to leave me naked while you’re still fully dressed, don’t you think?” you pointed out with pouty lips.

Rolling his eyes in amusement, he sat up on the mattress so he could take his sweatshirt off, being followed by you right after, as you helped him get rid of it with a smile on your face. Now, you had seen him shirtless once, when you were having food in his room one evening and he stained his t-shirt with soda, proceeding to change into another one right in front of you, but you had seen little to nothing of his torso, as he had turned almost fully around as he did so. And hence now, you could not hide the hungry look on your face as you stared at his toned chest.

“My eyes are up here” he teased you with an amused smile, causing you to send a playful glare his way.

“You didn’t exactly look into my eyes either when you pulled my t-shirt up, so…”

He chuckled at your snarky remark, leaning in to connect his mouth with yours and then tugging once more at the end of your top, just like he had done a minute before. This time, however, you pulled your arms up, letting go of his mouth so he could get rid of that one last piece of clothing of yours that was bothering him so much.

Not wasting any more time, you helped him out of the rest of his clothes as well, giggling against his lips when they needingly crashed on yours once more, with one swift movement lying you down on the mattress as your curious, wandering hands became familiar with each other’s bodies.

A raspy moan escaped Jeongguk’s throat when your hand stroked his member, being followed by a choked one when you tightly wrapped your hand around it, gently moving it up and down his length.

“Fuck, Y/N” he breathed heavily, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he unconsciously thrusted into your hand. “I need you”.

You smiled at the sound of his begging words, leaving a small kiss on his naked shoulder before you released his member from your hold and pushed him on his back, letting him adjust into a more comfortable position as he rested his back against the headboard, before you sunk your knees down on the mattress on each side of his lap — his hands immediately resting on the curve of your waist and a shaky breath coming out of his mouth at the feel of your wet core rubbing ever so faintly against his cock.

“You sure you want this?” you asked.

He eagerly nodded his head, pulling you back to meet his swollen lips. “I want you so bad”.

Feeling a wave of heat rushing through your body at that, you nodded your head, pecking his lips one more time before you reached for your nightstand, opening its small drawer and taking a condom out of it. Going back to your boyfriend, you were met with his rather taken aback expression.

“You knew this was going to happen or…” he questioned with a raised brow and a teasing smile.

You shook your head as a shy smile curved up your lips. “The two idiots I live with filled my drawer with them when we started staying over at each other’s regularly” you explained with a roll of eyes. “They also left a box full of them in my closet”.

Jeongguk laughed wholeheartedly at that. “Well, that’s good to hear. They will come in handy”.

Laughing along with him at his joyful remark, you opened the small envelope in your hands, pulling slightly back so you were no longer hovering over his member and could slide the condom on it with ease — feeling Jeongguk’s breath hitch at both the unfamiliar feel of the thin latex around his length, and the familiar one of your hands on it. Staring back at him once you were done, you stole a sweet kiss from his lips, hearing him moan against your mouth when your hand was once more wrapped around his cock, pumping it a couple more times as you aligned it with your entrance.

And then, locking eyes with him for a second, you kissed him slowly. As slowly as you had started to sink down on him.

Letting go of the kiss as he involuntarily tilted his head back, Jeongguk let out a loud moan, immediately getting lost into what was without a doubt the most pleasure he had ever felt. And he knew right away that your warm, wet walls wrapping tightly around his member, was something he could easily become addicted to.

Staring lovingly at the way his eyes remained closed and his mouth slightly open, you couldn’t help but moan as well as you pushed down lower on him, feeling your walls stretching as you tried to take his entire length.

“Fuck” he rasped when he was completely inside of you.

Tightening his hold on your hips, he pulled you slightly closer to him on his lap, not being able to hold back a blissful chuckle at the way the friction he had just created made him feel.

“What is it?” you wondered with a smile of your own when he leaned in to rest his forehead on your shoulder.

“It feels so good” he let you know with another chuckle.

Joining him on his sudden outburst of joy, you let out a light laugh just as he pressed an open mouth kiss to your shoulder, loving to be the one who got to share this moment with him — to be the one he wanted to share this moment with. Pressing a small kiss to the top of his head, you placed two fingers under his chin to push it up and have him look at you. Once he did, you leaned in to steal a lingering kiss.

“I love you” you said for the third time that night.

He smiled brightly, bringing his lips up to yours and locking them in a slow kiss. “I love you more”.

Opening your mouth to fight him on that, what came out of it instead was a choked moan after he pulled your hips down on his cock.

“Jeongguk, fuck” you let your forehead fall to his shoulder when he pushed his hips up to yours.

Slowly rolling your hips, you met him right as he thrusted up on you once more, causing a small moan to make its way out of his mouth. “Mm… baby…”

With his hands firmly grabbing your hips, you let him guide the pace as you rode him, loosely wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your forehead on his as the two of you grew used to the rhythm he was leading. Closing your eyes, you let your heavy breathings mix as they were now, along with a few moans here and there, the only sound filling your silent bedroom.

“O-Oh, fuck” you gasped when he pulled you down harder on him, somehow managing to push deeper inside of you.

You leaned slightly back when he repeated said action, tilting your head back as well and then humming quietly when you felt his warm lips wrap around one of your breasts, slowly sucking on your nipple, as you had just given him the perfect opportunity to do just that, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and pulling you closer to him as you kept rolling your hips at the same pace he had created for you before.

“Mh—ah! Fuck” he moaned when you pushed your legs up, enough for only half of his cock to be inside of you, to later take it all in again. “Y/N…”

Doing it again, you couldn’t stop the whimper that had just abandoned your mouth as his length had managed to reach that soft spot of yours. Needing more of him, you sped up the pace of your grinding against his hips, feeling him finally let go of your sensitive bud to let his sweaty forehead rest in the crook of your neck as his moans became louder by the second.

“Wait, wait” he demanded breathily, placing his hands on your hips and firmly holding them down so you would stop moving. “Stop”.

“What’s wrong?” you worried, doing as told in a heartbeat.

He shook his head no, quietly letting you know nothing was really wrong, as he buried his face deeper in the crook of your neck and closed his eyes while he tried his best to catch his breath. “Feels too good” he admitted in a raspy voice. “Don’t wanna cum yet”.

You giggled under your breath, finding silent joy on the fact that he hadn’t asked you to stop because he wasn’t enjoying what you were doing, but because he was liking it too much.

Lowering your head to his shoulder, you planted a small kiss on it. “You can cum if you want” you let him know, pressing another soothing kiss to the crook of his neck. “I understand”.

He shook his head no, letting out a heavy sigh as his thumbs drew tender circles on your skin. Maybe it was his ego, or just the fact that he really wanted to make you feel good too, maybe both, what made him refuse to let himself go right then, no matter how bad he wanted to. No matter how hard it was not to.

Smiling sweetly at him, you brought one of your hands up to his damp hair while your other one caressed his back, entangling your fingers in his dark locks as you waited for him to come down from the high he had been about to reach. Letting out a sigh when he felt like he could finally breathe again, he placed his hands on your back to pull you closer — lips looking for yours when your naked chest pressed on his.

Kissing him hard, you opened your mouth for his tongue to meet yours after it had traced your bottom lip, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and trying your best not to roll your hips like you were dying to. Although you didn’t have to hold back for much longer, for with one last kiss and with his warm hands still holding you down on his cock, he pushed it deeper inside of you.

“Fuck” you gasped at the sudden stimulation, taking it as your cue to start moving as well.

“F—Y/N” he moaned when your hips met his in the middle, as they pushed into you once more.

Helping you lead the pace once again, he held you by the waist, digging his fingers into your hot skin and deciding right there, as you moaned his name and your walls tightened around his cock, that he wanted to take over from then on. So, with a swift movement, you were now under him as he laid your back on the mattress — a light moan escaping your lips when he pulled out of you to make you more comfortable on the bed, immediately becoming whiny as you missed his whole length inside of you.

“No, don’t stop fucking me” you pouted, breath hitching when he grabbed your thighs and pulled you closer to where he was sitting down on the mattress. “Jeongguk, please”.

He smiled at both the sound and sight of you right then, really enjoying them one hell of a lot. It was your messy hair, swollen lips and naked chest that moved up and down as you breathed heavily, along with the neediness in your voice as you were begging for him once more, what made it easy for him to decide he liked being in control.

Catching your bottom lip in his mouth as he adjusted himself in between your legs, he heard you beg one more time against his lips. However, just as you did, he felt one of your hands desperately go down to your center so you could feel something inside of you. Only you didn’t get to, for his hand grabbed your wrist right before your fingers could find their way inside, managing to grab your other one as well and pin them over your head as he pushed his hips down enough for the head of his cock to align with your wet center.

“I’m the one fucking you tonight, petal”.

You moaned at the sound of his words being murmured against your neck — the way such sweet pet name had been said with such a lustful tone right then, making you somehow even more needy for him.

“Please,” you breathed out, overwhelmed by the way his mouth teased the sensitive skin of your neck and he rubbed his cock against your core, not quite pushing into you yet. “Jeongguk, please. I need you”.

“What was that?” he wondered teasingly.

“I need you” you repeated. “Jeongguk, please. Please fuck m—ah!” your head was thrown back in pleasure when he slammed his entire length into you, just the way you were so badly begging for.

Hungrily kissing your mouth, he muffled the moans that came out of it with each thrust of his hips — letting go of your lips as a low groan made its way out of his throat when your walls wrapped tighter than he had felt them do that evening, as you were getting closer to reach your high.

Letting his forehead fall to your shoulder, he muffled a cry against your skin as you wrapped your legs around his waist and your walls tightened once more against his cock, knowing right then he wouldn’t be able to last much longer.

“Harder” you pleaded breathily, arching your back as he wasted no time in complying. “F-Fuck, Jeongguk. Ah!”

“Y/N” he rasped your name, feeling his inevitable release about to hit. “Fuck, I’m g-gonna cum”.

Not being able to form any kind of coherent sentence right then, you settled for an eager nod of your head to let him know it was okay. Digging your nails on the wet skin of his back, you scratched your way down on it when he once again managed to find that one soft spot of yours that had you crying out in a second.

“Right there,” you desperately let him know, feeling your legs start to give up when he kept hitting it with each of his thrusts. “Fuck, right there”.

“A-Ah, Y/N, I’m—” he stumbled upon his own words, not being able to hold on anymore given how much tighter you were getting now around him. “Mm… I’m gon—ah!”

Groaning one last time, he let himself go like he had fought so hard not to — your pulsating walls around his cock finally driving him over the edge.

Although overwhelmed by the intense wave of pleasure running through his body, beginning to feel dizzy even, he did not slump down on you to catch his breath like he so badly needed to. Instead, he kept riding his own orgasm — his thrusts becoming sloppier yet rougher as he greedily tried to drive you over the edge, too.

And it was only a matter of seconds before you did.

“J-Jeongguk, I’m—ahh!” you cried out one last time, feeling your shaky legs give up as you came undone beneath him.

Helping you ride out your orgasm as well, Jeongguk whimpered at the overstimulation, finally letting his body slump down on yours and burying his face on your neck, as he felt his body tremble with each spasm of your walls around him. Feeling his hot, heavy breath hit your sweaty neck as the two of you desperately tried to catch your breath, you entangled once more your fingers on the hair at the back of his head — fingertips ever so tenderly moving in circular motions in a soothing way.

Closing your eyes for a couple of seconds, you felt his thumb caress one of your sides, later having you opening your eyes when he pressed two brief kisses to the crook of your neck and a breathy laugh of his was soon to follow right after.

“What’s so amusing?” you wondered, feeling the corners of your mouth curve up when another chuckle of his reached your ears.

“That was amazing” he confessed, causing your face to burn as your smile grew wider. Pressing one of his arms down on the mattress, he held his body up so he could lock his eyes with yours. “Was it okay for you?”

You bit your bottom lip, shyly looking away for a split second before your eyes focused back on his. “Jeon Jeongguk,” you called his name in a serious tone.

“Hm?”

“You made me cum twice” you reminded him, loving the sight of his already flushed cheeks turning even more pink than they already were. “I think that speaks for itself”.

He let out a shy laugh, tilting your chin up as he brought his lips down to yours and kissing you sweetly for a good couple of seconds, later moving his lips over to press an open mouth kiss to your cheek before he finally pulled out of you. Removing the condom from his member, he crawled to the edge of the bed and reached for the small bin you kept under your desk next to your bed, bringing it closer to him and throwing the used latex into it before he went back to lie on his stomach next to you — blissfully letting you kiss his lips once more like you had just reached up to.

“I’ll get better at it” he promised, earning a quiet giggle from you.

“Well, we do have three years to make up for, so I guess we’ll both get a lot of practice” you pointed out coyly.

“And we don’t have to worry about running out of condoms anytime soon” he reminded you, amusement clear in his voice.

Throwing your head back on the mattress, you allowed a throaty laugh to escape your mouth, later looking back at him and bringing your hand up to cup one of his cheeks. Gently caressing it a couple of times, you puckered your lips up for him to come closer and cut the space between your mouth — smiling softly when he complied in a heartbeat, slowly sucking on your bottom lip.

“I love you” he mumbled on your lips, loving the way he was finally able to say it freely, knowing you felt the same, like he had been aching you to all along.

“I love you more” you repeated his previous answer with a smile.

Kissing your lips chastely, he shook his head no, tilting his head towards the flowers that were taking over your desk. “Those are proof that I love you more”.

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Those are proof that you’ve loved me for longer, it’s got nothing to do with the amount of it”.

“Mhm…” he nodded his head, letting you know with both the tone of his voice and the look on his eyes that you were not convincing him. “Whatever works for you, petal” his lips turned into a smile as he let his back slump down on the bed.

“Yah,” you gently shoved him off, feeling your heart skip a beat when you heard him laugh.

Pulling you to his chest by wrapping an arm around you, he planted a kiss to your forehead. Although you had sighed contentedly after resting your face on his chest, he didn’t miss the way your mind was quite absent right then.

“What’s wrong?” his eyebrows knitted together, growing somewhat more confused after following with his eyes to where yours were staring at and having them fall on the flowers.

“Nothing” you smiled, unconsciously running your fingers along his chest. “I just wish these particular ones would last forever”.

Smiling as he adoringly stared at you, he hugged you closer to his body. “I can get you all the flowers you want”.

At that, your head snapped up so you could lock eyes with him. The mischievous smile that had just formed on your mouth as you cockily raised one of your eyebrows, letting him know right away he was about to regret what he had just said. “You’ll be like my flower daddy then?”

Yup, there it was, the regret.

“Anddd, you ruined it” he lamented.

Letting his head fall back down on the mattress, he closed his eyes as he tried his best to fight the smile that was threatening with taking over his face, knowing he would fail miserably at it when he heard you chuckle next to him — finally giving in to it and laughing as well as you peppered open mouth kisses around his face.

Although popular, loud, chaotic, bubbly, impulsive as hell, and just the complete opposite to what he was, he could not be any happier it was you the one his heart had chosen to fall irretrievably in love with.

#bts #bts imagines #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook #bts smut #jungkook smut #kpop #kpop fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #bts social media au #jungkook social media au #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jungkook

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sunder-soul · 3 years

Text

PROMPT 1: Hellooooooo! First off ur writing goes off, second off listen to this idea that i truly think u can bring to life... reader n tom r in a relationship and someone tried to slip tom to love potion but ofc he doesn't fall for it and his gf is like ??? and then they rub their relationship in her face LOL. anyways no worried just thought this would slap! Admire u n ur work!!

PROMPT 2: hey i love your the last of your rules series and everything else you’ve written. i’m not very creative so idk what exactly i’m looking for plot wise i just trust you since everything you’ve written is good but i was wondering if maybe you could write a tom x ravenclaw reader please. the ravenclaw reader tends to be more emotionally reserved and isn’t big on physical affection and maybe tom finds that interesting in a way? idk this idea might suck but felt like asking anyways...

Decided to combine these two because I could see them working really well together… :D

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Retribution

Summary: After somebody tries to slip Tom a love potion to break up him and Ravenclaw Reader’s relationship, they get a little bit theatrical in response...

Wordcount: 1.8k

Content warning: none.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Good morning,” says Tom evenly, lifting a wide-brimmed cup to his lips and taking an even sip as he looks at you.

“Is it?” you say dryly, sitting down opposite him at the Slytherin table and pulling out the new Magical Theory textbook. “Have you looked over this yet?”

“I have,” Tom replies with a very small smile. “Not to your liking?”

“Sophus writes like it’s still the seventeenth century,” you say with a shake of your head, “which isn’t surprising considering I don’t think he included a single reference from the last two hundred years… I mean honestly –” you wave at the title on the front of the book, “– ‘Corpus Magikus?’ Even the title makes it sound ancient.”

“Did you have any criticisms about the actual content per chance?” Tom asks as he lifts his tea again – though it doesn’t quite hide the amused smile on his lips. “Or did you not manage to get past the articulation?”

You give him a look. “The articulation is just as important as the content.”

“I completely disagree,” he replies easily, his cup clinking as he rests it back on its saucer, “regardless of how it is written, his points are extremely sophisticated.”

“I’m not talking about the quality of his points, I’m talking about how well he makes them accessible,” you say at once, picking up a piece of toast and buttering it lightly, “he can have the best criticisms of Magical Theory in the world and no one will care if they can’t understand what he’s saying.”

Tom arches a brow and leans forward on the table, resting on his forearms. “You’re placing the responsibility of understanding an argument on the person presenting it, and not the person receiving it,” he says fluidly, “personally when I find something difficult to understand, I take it as an indicator that I need to return to the topic after better preparing myself.”

“That works fine as an individualistic perspective,” you reply at once, leaning forward to match him, “but a book isn’t written for an individual, is it? It’s written for an audience. A book like this is measured by how wide an audience it can reach, meaning the responsibility is half on him to write accessibly, and half on the audience to go away and fill the holes in our own understanding. That’s when information is dispersed most effectively.”

“Your priority is the dispersion of information as a whole and not the expansion of your personal field of knowledge, and that is the crux of our differing opinion,” Tom says, sitting up straighter and tilting his head calmly.

“I am very aware,” you say dryly, “but you shouldn’t dismiss the importance of charisma when it comes to spreading information. After all, academics aren’t exactly known to be the most charismatic people most of the time, so you end up with intelligent, useful tomes that are utterly incomprehensible to most people –” you nod at the text again, “whilst compelling idiotic drivel is widely consumed.”

The Daily Prophet lands with a thump on your breakfast plate as the delivery owl swoops away with a mournful hoot, and you share a pointed, very wry look with Tom.

Tom breathes a little laugh and laces his fingers around his cup. “So you’re not looking forward to Magical Theory, then.”

“I am,” you amend, frowning, “I just hope the class follows more like Waffling’s work than this.”

“Of course you like Waffling,” Tom smirks, lifting his cup, “he effectively writes in verse –”

Tom suddenly freezes, his brow furrowing lightly. You raise a brow at his sudden reaction. “What?”

He looks down at his tea, still frowning.

“Tom?” you prompt, bemused.

“Someone has attempted to drug me,” he says in complete seriousness, looking up at you.

You stare back, bewildered. “Is… is this more Tom humour?” you ask after a moment, “you seriously need more practice at making jokes, Tom, you really are terrible at it –”

“I’m not joking,” Tom interrupts crisply.

Your scrutiny drops to the cup in his hand. “How can you tell?”

“My tea smells like you.”

Your brows raise. “Excuse me?”

“My tea,” he repeats evenly, his dark eyes coming alight with a flicker of amusement as he leans closer, his cup still in one hand, “rather suddenly smells like you. I can only assume someone has managed to slip Amortentia into my cup sometime during this conversation.”

You blink at him. “Oh,” you say simply.

Tom’s lips curve into a more defined smirk at your expression.

“Well who’s trying to drug you then?” you ask quickly, looking away.

“An excellent question,” he says silkily, eyes still on you. “Their motive is hardly a mystery, so that should narrow it down.”

You roll your eyes and level him with a flat look. “Nothing could narrow it down less, Tom,” you drawl, “half the school is in love with you, and the other half is in denial about being in love with you.”

Tom arches a brow and looks very pleased with himself. “Should I drink it and we can find out?” he asks in amusement, lifting the cup.

You huff a laugh and take a bite of your toast. “Go on then, but don’t expect any sympathy from me when you’re pouring your heart out to some random stranger in front of the whole school a minute from now.”

His hand freezes with the rim of his cup an inch from his mouth, amusement faltering.

“That’s what I thought,” you smirk. “If you want to play it that way you’re going to have to be smarter than that.”

“Oh?” he asks, dark eyes narrowing. “And what would you suggest?”

“If someone drugged you during this conversation then they’re probably watching for your reaction,” you say casually around bites of your toast, “so just look out for someone who’s waiting for you to dramatically break up with me.”

“According to you, that would be the entire school,” Tom mutters, looking significantly more disgruntled than before.

A grin slowly builds on your face. “That was nearly a real joke, Tom,” you say ironically, “Merlin you’ve come so far…”

He shoots you a flat glare and you snicker. “Alright, sorry, I’ll stop – look, if I storm out of here looking upset and you act all conflicted and brooding for the rest of the day, whoever it was will probably try to come talk to you.”

“How theatrical,” Tom deadpans.

You shrug. “Do you want to know who drugged you or not?”

His eyes remain on yours for a moment, and then he lifts the tea to his lips. You watch him pretend to drink, your eyes lingering on the tea glistening on his lips as he lowers the cup.

“Don’t lick your lips,” you say quietly, not quite able to look away.

Tom’s other hand shifts slightly where it’s resting on the table between you, and the tea vanishes both from his lips and the cup. You give him another dry look. “Show off,” you accuse, smiling, “wandless and non-verbal, huh?”

“If you ask nicely, I’ll teach you how to do it,” he smirks.

You huff a laugh and slide Corpus Magikus back into your bag. “I should make my dramatic exit soon,” you say casually, finishing your toast and looking around the hall absently. “Perhaps we should have a fight first.”

“That would make it more convincing, yes,” he says delicately, still looking amused.

“What shall we fight about?"

Tom’s expression immediately cools and he leans in so close that you can see the patterns in his dark irises. “The content doesn’t matter,” he says smoothly, a glimmer in his eyes despite his utterly blank expression, “rather, the articulation.”

You hold his gaze for a second, fighting the urge to smile. You force yourself to stand suddenly, as if he’s said something of great offence. “I’ve never seen you so quickly converted to my opinion, Tom,” you say icily, leaning down to him over the table and hoping it looks like you’re angry.

“You made your argument very convincingly,” Tom says immediately, lifting his chin coolly.

“Actively demonstrating my point, I suppose,” you snap, standing straight. “I’m going to storm out now.”

“I’ll see you in class,” he says dismissively, pouring himself more tea.

You turn on your heel and leave, ignoring the curious eyes following you on your way out and not letting the smile break on your face until you’re well outside the Hall. Now all you have to do is wait.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Amelia Staghart,” Tom says in your ear before swiftly sitting down next to you in Potions that afternoon.

You raise a brow at him, watching as he arranges his Potions kit on the desk – Staghart is sitting a few desks behind you at that very moment and can most definitely see the both of you. “Are we no longer having a fight?”

“I grew tired of that pretence rather quickly,” Tom says curtly.

You smirk. “Did she talk to you?”

“Yes.” He looks decidedly irritated.

“A lot, huh.”

He shoots you a glare and you bite back another smile. “Are you going to report her then?” you ask, writing the date out on your parchment.

“No,” Tom says softly. You glance up curiously at his tone and find his dark eyes watching you write, before they flick up to yours. “I can think of a more pertinent retribution for her to endure,” he finishes quietly, not looking away.

“Retribution?” you echo, arching a brow with a slight smile. “And you accuse me of being theatrical.”

But Tom only leans closer and – to general astonishment – places a very gentle kiss on your cheek. His lips linger soft and warm on your skin for a moment as you’re frozen in place, staring at him as he slowly draws away an inch. His eyes roam your face as you blink in surprise, his lips curving into another humorous smile at your expression when there’s a sudden SMASH from behind you.

The entire class turns from where they’ve been staring wide-eyed at Tom’s display of affection to see Staghart’s inkwell knocked asunder on her desk, spreading black ink across the wood and dripping down to the floor, her eyes wide and her expression thunderstruck as she stares at you.

“Clean that up at once, Staghart!” Slughorn says disapprovingly as he strides into the room. “I certainly hope your clumsiness does not extend through today’s lesson – we’re brewing poisons today, class!”

Staghart goes red as the rest of the students titter and chatter, furiously glaring at the pool of ink dripping into her lap.

You glance at Tom and share a silent look of amusement before the two of you simultaneously turn back to your notes, still smirking.

#Tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #established relationship #ravenclaw reader #amortentia #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle fic #tom riddle fanfic #harry potter #minific #retribution #prompt #Anon #gn reader

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luminari-mc · 3 years

Text

Eternal Memento

☆ Mammon's Birthday Special ☆

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: GN!MC x Mammon

Word count: 1653

Summary: You surprise Mammon with a special and personal gift on a very special day.

Warnings: N/A

A/N: Writing angst for Mammon is nice... but fluff and love is definitely better. I wanted to write something cute for our first man's important day, because he deserves it. Happy birthday, Mammon!

______________________________________________________

Five minutes left til the clock struck midnight. At this hour, all of the occupants of the House of Lamentation were expected to be in their rooms for the night- such were the rules which had been implemented by Lucifer for all who lived under these roofs, no matter whether they were demons, or human.

But tonight, you had decided to break that rule. After sneakily escaping the confines of your bedroom, you had managed to make your way upstairs, unbeknownst to the first-born, or any of the other demon brothers for that matter. How you hadn't encountered Beel on his usual night crusades to the kitchen, or walked on Levi taking advantage of the night to leave his room, was beyond you. But you couldn't be more thankful for it. Everything was going according to plan, and you weren't about to let anything or anyone ruin it.

You had arrived at your destination a couple minutes earlier, bouncing with impatience on your feet the more you kept looking at the minutes changing on the screen of your phone. The excitement overtaking you began to brighten your face with a smile, your eyes switching from the light under Mammon's door in front of you, to the darkness of the hallway you were standing in. With only a couple of minutes left to wait, the last thing you wanted was to be interrupted!

But just as a faint light appeared to grow closer and closer towards you from the shadows, your body instinctively tensed up. You kept your smile intact and your mouth shut, until the footsteps of Lucifer, holding a candle in his hand, came to a complete stop upon noticing your presence in the hallway. Just as he was about to reprimand you from breaking curfew, you immediately placed a finger upon your lips, a request the demon seemingly took note of as he simply arched an eyebrow at you. With a grin, you proudly showed him the small, gift-wrapped item in your hand. The wrapping, gold and sparkly, was kept into place by a thin ribbon of the same color

Lucifer's expression changed into one of content as his features relaxed. He nodded understandingly, before starting to walk again, exchanging hushed words of "Do not be loud. I'll let this one slide exceptionally." as he passed by you, before disappearing within the dark of the hallway once again.

Internally, you were grateful. Externally, you sighed out of relief.

Pressing the gift against your chest, you checked your phone once again. 10 seconds left. Your heart suddenly started beating like a hammer within you, and your thoughts were going at a hundred miles per hour. Nothing could ruin your plan now. Mammon was in his room, awake- you were in front of his door, with your gift, and you could only grow more and more excited for him to see it.

Downstairs, the clock echoed loudly. That was it. You advanced your hand towards the handle, stars practically shining in your eyes. Nobody could stop you now-

"IT'S MY--" The door opened without warning, revealing a grinning demon who, with his eyes closed in happiness, hadn't noticed you yet in front of him. Your body moved on instinct.

"Mammon!" You exclaimed, a smile wide on your face as you threw yourself towards him, your arms quickly locking themselves around his neck. Surprised to hear your voice, and even more to feel your body against him without warning, Mammon almost stumbled backwards, pulling you inside alongside him.

"Wh-Whaaat!? Huh- MC?! W-What are you doing here?!" The demon's cheeks burned red upon opening his eyes. "You can't just barge in my face like that! Seriously, you almost gave me a heart attack!"

Chuckling at his reaction, you reached for the door behind you to close it with your foot. Somewhere within the House of Lamentation, Lucifer groaned.

"I wanted to surprise you! Seems like it worked like a charm." Your teasing voice only increased the color of his cheeks even more, as a pout began to form upon his lips.

"S-Seriously, you can't just do that out of nowhere! At least learn to knock, will ya?" His unwavering gaze on you betrayed his frustrated tone. "Whatcha doin' here anyway? Aren't'cha supposed to be asleep?"

"And miss being the first to celebrate the special day of my favorite demon? No way."

Just as you let go of him, his expression softened at the reason of your presence in his room. "O-Oh... is that why you're here?"

You nodded, before taking his hand to guide him towards his couch. "I really wanted for the both of us to spend the entire day together, starting from the very first minute. Is that okay with you?" Despite your question, you knew Mammon enough to easily guess his answer.

"The- the entire day?" His eyes opened wider as he let you pull him at the center of the room, the words failing him. "Like- you mean- as in 24 hours together? J-Just you and me? You're serious?"

"Well, as far as I recall, there are still 24 hours within a day, right?" You teased before sitting on the couch and patting the seat next to you. "Only if you want to, though."

"Wh- really, I mean..." Mammon sat himself onto the couch slowly, his eyes drifting away from you. "If-If you really want it that much, I guess we could... spend the day together..."

You smiled at his reaction. So predictable. So adorable.

"Huh," he turned his face back towards you, or more precisely, towards the object you had placed in your lap, "What's that thing here? Is that...?"

You hummed, scooting closer to him so that your arms would touch. "Your gift for this year. I don't know if it's going to be enough, but I really wanted to give you something personal this time..."

You placed the wrapped-up gift in his hands. "I still hope you'll like it."

Mammon brought the gift closer to him as if to inspect it, the gold of the wrapping reflecting in his eyes. His thumb traced the rectangle shape of the item hidden within it, a cheap attempt at guessing what the gift was before even opening it. Sensing you intently staring at him though, the demon decided to properly discover his present by tearing the paper in half. He continued to rip pieces of it away, until the item was entirely uncovered in his hand.

"It's..." Mammon's mouth hung open, his eyes fixated on the framed picture he was holding. You placed your cheek against his shoulder.

"It's the first picture we took together. Well, more like the first one where our smiles were genuine." You wrapped your arm around his. "We weren't really comfortable around one another when we first met, huh? I mean, with me suddenly being pulled into a place I didn't even know existed, and you having to babysit me without even being able to say a word against it... It would be hard on anyone's nerves."

Mammon slid his arm behind your back as you continued. "Then one day, not long after we made our pact, we made a detour by the city and grabbed ice creams on our way home. I remember you wanted to brag about having finished classes early to the others, so you asked me to take a picture of us to post it on Devilgram later. So we raised our treats, smiled all teeth out, and it was done. Except that, in the end..."

"We forgot about posting it." Mammon said, his brow furrowing on his forehead. "I-I didn't know you had kept it, though."

"Well, there was something about it that made me just... want to keep it. I only thought about it later on during the day, but I realized there was something special about that picture." You tilted your head to look at him. "Want to know what it is?"

Wordless, or probably just too overwhelmed by the memories resurfacing in his mind, Mammon nodded. You put your finger next to his smiling face in the picture.

"Even after we took the picture, you kept on smiling." Your cheeks turned pink at the thought. "You kept on talking to me, and never once you stopped grinning. It was kind of contagious, I'm pretty sure I couldn't stop smiling too because of you. But it was nice. That was the first time where I thought that... maybe living with you guys might not be so bad."

Mammon examined the expressions on your framed past-selves. The picture looked like any other you two would take nowadays; smiling, enjoying the moment and the presence of one another. Except that, at the time, he was still denying his feelings, through and through. And yet in this picture, you had barely known each other for a couple of days, and you were smiling with the same intensity as you do to this day.

I really fell for you pretty quickly, huh...

"I feel kind of bad for forgetting about this." He admits, blushing. "But... I really like it. Thanks, MC. I'll treasure it forever."

Here were the words you were waiting for.

You opened your arms to invite him for a hug, a request which Mammon accepted on the spot as he leaned forward to embrace you, the framed picture still in his hand behind your back.

"So, I really got ya all to myself today?" He grinned. "Damn, it hasn't even been 20 minutes and this already feels like the best day ever."

You leaned yourself away before cupping his cheeks in your hands, your lips pressing against his in a way that only made him want even more. As Mammon placed down the picture on the glass table, and pulled you onto his lap, your thumb caressed his cheek affectionately.

"Happy birthday, my first man. Both in pact, and in smiles."

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bts-trash-blog · 3 years

Text

Best Of Us

Chapter 8: Focus

Summary: Being an Omega is hard, it could be so lonely. The hardships that you would sometimes feel seemed to much, always expected of things you could never fully reach. Always seen as a piece of meat to some, seen as weak and stupid. So you worked your ass off to finally work your dream job. And the world all changed when you met one of the bosses. And couldn't help but end up falling.

Paring: Rap Line X Fem!Chubby OmegaReader

Warning: A/O/B!VERS, mentions of sexual harassment, heats, ruts, knotting, breeding, angst, possessive behavior, more warnings will be added as needed.

An(IMPORTANT...kinda of lol): Hello my sweets! I just wanted to give you all a heads up that I will be closing the Tag list after I realize Chapter Ten, just for a bit it will open back up eventually its just getting be to much to keep up with at the momment! So defiently keep an eyes out in the next couple of weeks of the tag list closing and when it should open back up if that makes senses lol. Also I was woundering if you guys would like to talk about the story togthers after each chapter? Like a reading party where you guys send in your thoughts and I will respound to as many, if not all of the replys, asks and anons! Defeintly tell my your thoughts on that if you fine it intresting or not! I hope you like this chapter, it’s most defitnly on the long side compared to the perivous chapters, and they only seem to keep getting longer lol. Anyway have a great day, and I hope you enjoy reading!!!

Chapter edited

PREV._.NEXT

God you were crazy,you had to be.

The way the air caught your breath as you wandered outside had you memorized, no matter what age you were the cold always fascinated you. It was memories of the snow days your father would pull you out of bed for, hands on your hips as he lifted you off the ground and caught snowflakes. Or the way you watched your mother fall to the ground to make snow angels how your father as you and your cousin had run around the snow, would catch your mother and spin her around. Their joint laughter had made you freeze eyes casting over seeing your mothers bright smile as your father peppers kisses across her cheeks, as you stood frozen your older cousin shoved a snowball in your face. The burn of your cold nose now having you reach up and rub, the overly large sweater that wraps warmth around you faintly smells of your mother. She had grown worried as days passed and you sat in your room, nesting, trying to get the paperwork done that the ‘sweet handsome Alpha’, Jin, had dropped off. You had yet to confined to your mother what was spiralling with your internship, your college professor none the wiser during your call on Wednesday. His voice filled with joy as he spoke of the email that Yoongi had sent him, encouraging your professor to give you the next couple of weeks off for class since he believes that this supposive internship was turning into a real opportunity for you. It drove you insane on how fast he was to jump, assume. Though you would do that same, you think.

The sound of someone talking on the phone had your mind racing back to the real world, eyes looking around, the tall glass building on the other side of the road. The way the sun reflected off of the glass shook you to the core, imagining Yoongi sitting at his desk, dark brown almost black hair falling into his eyes, the stupid look on Hoseok face when he constrates on the computer screen in front of him. The scent, the combined scent of the three of them, the same one you smelt the night that your world flipped, coursing through your head, the idea a lone had your stumbling over your own feet.Taking a deep breath, the sound of some teenagers laughing had you looking to the side, three girls, Beta, were walking next to one another, looks over worry and even on of disgust caught your eyes it had you cowering, rushing the the cafe door. As you entered, you saw cotton candy pink hair, the large round cheeks as Jimin called your name, it had you smiling as the boy left the counter moving to gester for you to sit making you straighten up as you do.

“You’re hair..is..uh pink.” he giggles as he sits in front of you, hearing the Beta from before chuckle as he shakes his head, his hair tossing side to side as he smiles brightly at you.

“Very, I’ve been wondering when I’d see you, thoses Alphas and their Omega come having been coming for the past three days, asking if you’ve shown up.” He wiggled his eyebrows as you bow your head, hair falling, covering your face as you take a deep breath and shrug. “Never thought they’d like another Omega besides Joon.” His words caught your attention as you look at him with a head tilt, “Namjoon is a friend of mine.”

“Oh cool, didn’t know you were close to any of them.” Jimin awkwardly nods as he huffs and takes a breath.

“So are you gonna stay?” His question made your heart stop, chest tighten, the air catching in your throat as you seem to choke on it. Coughing as he moves forward, hand resting on yours as he looks you in the eye. Safe. You are safe. “It..it’s okay if you don’t. Seriously, I..I don’t know how it feels for a trip to want to court you, let alone a thrio who all think you are already theirs, especially that possessive Namjoon.” His words go from serious tone to a teasing, his smile falling back on his face as his thumb rubs up and down your hand as you look at him. “Namjoon is probably more possessive then any Alpha I’ve met, and both of my parents are Alphas and so are my brothers, and my little sister who just presented is an Alpha. None of them are as possessive as our tall sweet Namjoon.” His words were rambled, eyes blinking, slowly looking away from your face, your own eyes widening.

“The only Omega in a whole litter?” You wonder aloud, making him nod slowly as his hand moves away from you, making your skin freeze as you take a deep breath. “Sorry that was blunt.”

“It’s fine, i’m used to it, being the only Omega out of five is odd, especially when the other four are Alphas.” His words had your nodding slowly as he cleared his throat and smiled back at you. “Being the only Omega was pretty handy though, got whatever the fuck I wanted. But back to what I was saying, the fact that Namjoon is willing to share his boys, and love you is pretty amazing to me if I’m being honest. So whatever you choose I’m gonna say it, he’s gonna be protective of you either way.” You nod at his words, his body moving up and out of the chair as he smiles at you and looks to his watch. “Well they should be showing up in twenty mintiues, think you’re gonna stay today?”

“I’m not sure yet.”He nods as he smiles as he places a hand on your shoulder, his forehead nuding your temple making your body relax as you take a deep breath and sigh. Hand moving to grab our phone, a text from Bambam had you swiping it open.His text had your heart pounding, cheeks growing red as your body grew hot it made you slowly blink as you took a deep breath in.

BamBam: So I am now a marked Omega, bounded.

Y/n: OMG I’m so happy for you Bammie, definitely need to see it next time we meet up.

BamBam: We’ll no shit, who else am I gonna show it too? My mother?

Y/n: I mean maybe?

BamBam: My mother will cry and tell me to stop growing up, then ask me about pups in the next sentence.

You let out a snort at his text, shaking your head as you place your phone back into your pocket, the feeling of eyes on you had the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Your body tense as you move to keep your eyes down, moving your hands to grab a sugar packet as Jimin walks back up to you, a caramel macchiato in hand as you smile at him.”On the house.” Nodding you move to take a sip of it, meeting his eyes as he gives you his large smile. The ring of the door opening had Jimin moving back behind the counter, the smell of Alpha musk head cowering as you constarat on your drink, hoping that the Alpha wouldn't notice you, or would just ignore you. Yet you didn’t seem that lucky as you felt eyes on you, the sound of the deep voice ordering a coffee to stay has you shuffling your phone out of your pocket hoping that if you were on your phone he’d leave you alone. That he’d ignore you in some way. But luck never seems to be on your side.

Looking up when you hear the slide of a chair in front of you, you see brown eyes with black hair falling in his eyes as he gives you a smile as you look back down your phone. Body slightly cluring in one itself as you took another sip of your coffee. Healing the Alpha now sitting in front of your clear his throat, a growl rumbling with it had your body tensing, hand squeezing the cup making some of the coffee drip out of the straw as you look up at him. His smirk had only grown at your reaction, his body leaning forward as you take a deep breath in and lean back. A napkin being grabbed as you try to whip away at the croffe from the table. His eyes follow your hand as you take a deep breath in as he lets out a grunt as he rolls his lip between his teeth as he slaps his hand on the table.

“So pretty Omega, what are you doing here all alone?” His voice was a force smooth, his eyes gleaming at you as he leaned further, closer to you. Taking in a breath, your scent as his lips part and he smirks brightly at you. “I asked you a question.” He growled, making you jump your eyes closing as you take a deep breath.

“I’m waiting for someone.” Your words were sharp, quiet to the point as you started to take deep breaths again and again. Trying to compose yourself, to calm yourself down.

“Well how about I keep you some company till they show up...or you could just leave with me.” He pauses as he takes another deep breath in, your place you cup down letting out breaths again and again. Go away, leave me alone. You want to say, to scream it out like you had like last time. But the three men had made you cower, made you want to shy away from people around you. Your courage closed off. “Smell delicious little girl.” His words had your chest tightening as you stood up, leaving your cup behind as you rushed to the door, wanting, needing to run across the street, wanting to hide behind Hoseok as Yoongi chewed this Alpha a new one. You want them. “Hey get back here, I’m not done talking to you.” The Alpha tone had both you and Jimin whinine, your body freezing before the glass door. Three figures moving across the street had you whining as you heard the Beta manger growl, “Turn around.” You felt your knees shake, wanting to fight his command you whimper as you almost fall. “Now come here, and shut it beta I’m with my Omega.” his words felt wrong, gave you a nasty taste in your mouth as you shake your head at the Beta who let out a whine at the Alphas tone. Jimin cowering behind him as you felt your feet stumble forward, knees buckling as he growls when you weren’t moving quick enough for his liking. “I don’t have all day, now come.” You omega rushed forward wanting to stay safe to listen to the campand as you felt your neck stretch out as he chuckles and patts your cheek “That's a good girl.” His words were full of nothing but humiliation as you let out a whine, bowling lower as the door opens, the sound of a gaspe as the smell of sweet vanilla with firewood mixing with peaches had your heart slow as you hear a deep growl, mixing with another and whine hidden between the two.

“What the fuck is going on?” Hoseok. Your eyes close as you hear the Alpha in front of your growl as he scoffs at the trio.

“None of your business is just punishing a disrespectful Omega is all.” His words held a smirk, the tone and the words had you letting out a whimper, the sound had a hand resting on your shoulder, physical contact. Hoseok touch was familiar being the only Alpha out of two that has truly touched you in any way. And yet it makes you flinch slightly as your eyes peek up at him, his warm brown eyes looking down at you nodding behind him making you stand rushing backwards till hands were around your waist. Twirling your around, back facing away from the two as you hear growling making your grip the top beneath the palm of yours hands as you take a deep breath in.

“That Omega is ours, not yours.” Hoseok's words in any other time would’ve made your huff and roll your eyes, dismiss the man and walk away but Yoongi scent of freshly burning firewood with pine had your nuzzling closer. As close as you could get with clothes on.

“Focus on me.” His voice was soft, breathy against your ear, Yoongi's hand falling to your lower back, another slightly larger than Yoongi's hand pressed against the back of your head making you look up and peak seeing Namjoons cold eyes staring past your head. His fingers lace your hair between them as he moves closer, pressing himself flesh against Yoongi's back making the Alpha purr, his cheek rubbing against your neck as you take another deep breath. Trying to shake the Alpha command away from your mind, wanting to breathe, needing to focus. You hear the Alpha chuckle, as Hoseok growls once again.

“Well shit I’m sorry, she just doesn't have a mark let alone a scent mark. She a good fuck? I haven't tried an Omega yet...would you mind sharing for a fresh Alpha?” His words had the chest you were pressed against rumble with a growl, suddenly the sound of skin hitting skin with a grunt and a growl had you jumping as Yoongi twirl you around, your back against Namjoons chest. The omegas hand sliding across your waist holding you to him as Yoongi pulls back making you shake your head and whine as he pulls back his cold brown eyes staring at you as he cups your cheek and presses his forehead against your. “What the fuck? You fuck-” His words were cut off with another sound as a chair scraps against the floor, you hear Jimin whine making your eyes snap over tot he pink haird Omega for a split second, clinging to the back of the Beta who had his eyes wide watching the scen unfold, making you look back to Yoongi then Behind his head. Seeing the Alpha on the ground eyes closed as Hoseok shook his head out, shoulders moving with every single breath he took. Hands on your cheeks had your eyes snapping back to your focus. Yoongi.

“Hey, hey Y/n focus on me.” Your eyes watch his, the way his eyes never move away from your face, how his eyebrows furrowed together, and the way the tips of his ears were a bright red. His hair was slicked back slightly, forehead on show the collar of his shirt was messed up slightly from the coat he probably had thrown on while the three left the office. His tie was a maroon color, resting against an off white top from the feel of it was silk that was tucked into his pants. Your eyes catching the dull looking shoes from the day you had split coffee on, it head your cheek going red as his thumb rubs against your cheekbone having your eyes snap back up to his. “Breath with me, focus on me.” You nod slowly, breathing slowly down as you feel Namjoons nose running up and down your neck, scenting you slightly as his nose rubs over your scent gland each time. It had your body vibrate as Yoongi rubs slightly under your eye as he smiled softly at you as you tried to smile back in the moment you finally realized that tears that were falling down as you took a shaky breath in.

“Is she okay?” You hear hoseok ask making you look to see his warm eyes looking at you as you feel yoongi leave you completely making you whine as Namjoon tightens his grip around you calming you down as Yoongi takes Hoseok's hand. His thumb rubbing over his knuckles as Hoseok's eyes leave yours back to Yoongis as you watch the taller Alpha bump his forehead against Yoongis making him look up and huff.

“Just had to punch him.” Yoongi says softly, his head shaking as Hoseok chuckled softly as he looked at you as Yoongi rolled his eyes once again,hearing the groaning boy behind them, Hoseok turned and growled making the Alpha flinch as he whips his lip and huffs.

“Asshole, I hate new Alphas.” Hoseok's words had Yoongi nodding in agreement when pink hair caught your eyes as Jimin moved closer rmaking you pull from Namjoon as Jimin came closer. Jimins small frame pressing itself into you as you take a deep breath as you see the Beta talking on the phone.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry I couldn't do anything once that ton-” You cut Jimin off with a shake of your head as you grip his arm and give him a half smile.

“I get it.” You whisper as Jimin slowly nods, sighing as he looks behind you, namjoons eyes already on the pair of you as Hoseok and Yoogi get pulled to the counter taking the phone from the Beta. “Who..what is the betas name?”

“Oh thats Taehyung, he he was protecting me I’m sorry he just didn-”

“Stop apologizing, seriously I knew someone was gonna stop it whether it be him or someone from the outside. It's just a part of being an Omega.” Jimin slowly nodded again as the two of you pulled completely away from each other. “I’m just sorry for you having to deal with my situ-”

“Don’t you start apologizing, if I can’t neither can you.” Jimins words were light hearted, a smile on his face as you shook your head and gave him the softest smile, a forced one almost. “Namjoon looks worried.” Jimins words were now slightly teasing, trying to pull you from the situation, and in the end it worked.

“He can hear us.” Your words made me smile brightly as you shook your head and took a deep breath in as you turned around, eyes already on you as you moved slowly towards them. Namjoon meets you halfway, though you step back when he reaches to touch you making his eyes widen as he steps back. “Uh this definitely not how I thought this afternoon was going to go.” Your words were mumbled, soft as you chuckled awkwardly running your hand through your hair as you let out a huff. “I just..I..sorry about it.”

“No need to apologize Y/n, we’re just glad you’re okay.” Hoseok mumbled his own hand running through his hair, the red on his knuckles catching your eyes as you reached out slowly making his jaw slightly drop. You fingertips grazing the palm of his hand at you step forward. Your other hand moving to run over the knuckles, each red mark being gently rubbed by the pad of your pointer finger it had Hoseok's whole body relax as he looked at your movements. “You didn’t have to punch the guy.”

“No one disrpects Omegas, let alone..let alone an Omega that is mine..shit sorry.” He mumbled quickly when the last part of his sentence slipped out past his lips it had your lip slightly curling when the dig of the door opening had you jumping back. A police officer was there, Yoongi quickly moving to speak with them as the Alpha who was now sitting up slowly was suddenly cuffed. Your breathing stayed steady as another officer came up and gave you soft smiles, her beta scent was soothing, light and it did wrap around you.

“Are you okay telling us what happened?” Her voice was soft, your arm wrapping around yourself as your other rested on your cheek, eyes looking down to the ground as you took a deep breath in. “You don’t have to today, but if you want to press charges we do need you to give a statement within 48 hours.”

“I don’t want to press charges..he’s a freshly presented Alpha.” You were quick to respond as she nodded slowly, her hand reaching slowly hovering above your shoulder as she smiled at you.

“Of course, we’ll book him then for the night. Okay?” You nod as you see Hoseok pressing a hand to the back of Namjoons neck as the Beta officer walked away following after her partner as you let out a breath and looked over at the three men who were already looking at you.

Focus Y/n. Focus on what needs to be done.

“Okay so I thought about it..about us?” You question yourself out loud, looking down your fingers twirling the ends of your sweater sleeve. You hair falling in your eyes making your huff as you blow hair making the strains fly up and fall back down just a quickly making your eye roll as you stop fiddling with our sleeves, pushing your hair over your ear as you make eye contact with Hoseok, his eyes already on you as he slowly nodded. “I think..I think we should just leave it be..let whatever happens or doesn’t happen..well uh just happen.” Your words had Namjoon whining as Yoongi let out a tut at him as you gave the three a small smile. “It’s not a no, but it’s not a yes.”

“It's just an open for a maybe.” Yoongi mumbles, making you nod your head as you take a deep breath as you look at them.

“I’m going to be honest with you guys I wasn’t planning to agree to anything and just ask for you guy to drop this whole mate things...but I just have this need to try...which is honestly weird.” You pause as you take a deep breath eyes casting anywhere but the three of them, you felt heat again your arm making you look to see Namjoon already looking down at you through a small frown was on his face as you take a deep breath. “It's not entirely your fault though, I have a lot of trust issues and abatement issues that is gonna make this hard..I don't’ know why I'm letting you know instead of you guys just figuring out maybe it's because of what happened and I feel..I feel safe in this moment with you or its just the high of breaking and Alpha command or what.” You ramble looking down at your feet, the black worn out vans on your feet bending as you move. “I guess..I guess maybe today I was able to see you guys as normal I guess and opened up for a chance? So just don’t..don’t hurt me...cause it’s the only one you get.”

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soobmint · 3 years

Text

paper hearts | choi soobin [f] ; [c] 80s! au, 9.6k words

s u m m a r y ; if there was one thing you wanted to avoid on valentine’s day, it was running into your ex best friend, choi soobin. but when a series of unfortunate events involving too much purple eyeshadow, drunken punches, and one stolen bicycle leads you right back to his side, you begin to realize that maybe you truly belonged with him all along.

c o n t e n t s ; soobin x fem!reader, 80s! au, valentine’s day, ex best friend! soobin, rich boy! soobin, but he’s a major dweeb and the biggest softie, yeonjun is a major prick (i’m so sorry junnie), reader is a part time worker, soobin is best friends with lee felix of stray kids, some themes of social classes, roughly inspired by the 80s movie “pretty in pink,” mentions drugs, alcohol, and single parent households, mostly just fluff, fluff, and more fluff, with a hint of crack/humor

n o t e ; hello friends! this was a very quickly planned, last minute valentine’s day idea, and it’s actually a collab with one of my dearest friends, @chanluster ! she posted her piece of the collab as well, you can check it out by going to the collab masterlist here! this was so much fun to write and i think that 80s! soobin was just too good of a concept to pass up! anyways, happy valentine’s day, i hope you enjoy this oneshot! do leave a like, reblog, or comment if you could, it really helps so much <3

[back to my masterlist] [oneshot playlist]

IF ONE MORE CUT-OUT, CRAFT-PAPER HEART HIT YOU IN THE FACE, YOU WERE GOING TO QUIT YOUR JOB.

Of course you would never actually quit. With your mother out of the picture and your father working nonstop overtime just to barely have enough cash to put food on the table for the both of you, you had come to rely on your minimum wage part-time hours more than you liked to admit. However, the handmade strings of paper hearts that hung from wall to wall throughout the entirety of the record shop you were employed at was enough to make you consider it; not to mention the Phil Collins record that had been spinning all day, filling your ears with melodies embodying the very air of romance, and the embarrassing pink sweater your boss had forced you to wear. You mumbled curses beneath your breath as you pulled at the collar, itching away at your neck.

When you made a step towards a crate full of records, ready to tidy it up after a customer had rummaged through it leaving it a mess, you were met with another face full of cheap red construction paper. With a large growl of exasperation, you swatted at the hearts and accidentally caused the entire string of them to fall to the ground. You cleared your throat, glad that no customers were present to see your little outburst.

Your boss, Jen, still saw it all.

“That’s not very festive of you, kid,” She said, taking a drag on her cigarette. “It’s Valentine’s Day! Lighten up.”

“Ah, my bad. I forgot that I was supposed to be overjoyed on the day honoring the execution of St. Valentine,” You said as you gave her a sarcastic smile. “I’ll make sure to smile at the next couple that walks in and ask them how they plan to contribute to the commercialization of a martyr’s death.”

“You must be real fun at parties,” Jen mumbled. She shook her cigarette at you from behind the counter. “You’re just bitter because you don’t have a valentine. I can’t blame anyone for giving you the cold shoulder with that attitude of yours.”

You scowled, picking up the string of hearts that you had sent crashing to the floor. “I’m not bitter, and I don’t want a date. Also, I told you to stop smoking inside! It smells awful.”

“Last I checked, this was my shop, not yours.” You rolled your eyes as you approached the counter, handing the discarded string to Jen so she could throw it in the trash. “Now you’re making me do chores for you too? You’ve got some nerve, I’ll give you that.”

“Jen, please, I’m really not in the mood for this today.”

Jen shrugged, bending towards the trash can to throw away the string of hearts when she paused and pulled something from the bin. You glanced over your shoulder and gasped when you saw what she held in her hand—a small red envelope with your name scrawled across the front and a pink heart-shaped sticker stuck on the back.

“What’s this?” Jen asked, opening the envelope and shaking out the contents. A single slip of paper fell out, landing atop the counter. You rushed to grab it, but Jen snatched it up just before your fingers reached the countertop.

“Give me that,” You insisted, face growing warm. “I threw it away for a reason!”

“It’s an invitation to a party?” She seemed beyond surprised, glancing back and forth between you and the paper several times. “You got invited to a Valentine’s Day party, and instead of going, you asked me to give you extra hours? Why?”

You looked down at your feet, digging the toe of your sneaker into the blue carpet. There were, in fact, many reasons why you did not want to go to that party. They were as follows:

One: Choi Yeonjun was the one who had invited you. After you had rejected his offer when he asked to take you to a basketball game a month before, you could barely make eye contact with him in the school hallway without feeling guilty. That and the fact that he was one of the richest preps in the school, you knew he had just been asking you out for some sort of prank or dare that you preferred to not potentially fall victim to.

Two: you needed to work as much as you could. Money, as always, was tight for you and your father. There was no way you would sacrifice precious hours to go to a party full of rich kids where nothing but humiliation was sure to await you.

Three: your old childhood friend and the one person you couldn’t bear to see was probably going to be there—Choi Soobin.

You had barely spoken to Soobin in the four years you had been in high school. Crossing paths with him in the cafeteria, turning down the same aisle of books as him in the library, all those tiny stolen glances and accidental encounters were the only bits of interaction you had kept throughout all that time. The worst part was, he hadn’t done anything wrong.

It was nothing but your own cowardice that had driven the two of you apart, and you were still too afraid to own up to it.

Instead of explaining all of this to Jen, you simply shrugged and said, “I dunno. It just sounds lame.”

Your boss sighed, holding the invitation out towards you. “Okay, I’m letting you off early. Go to the party.”

With wide eyes, you shook your head immediately. “Absolutely not. Why in the world would I go?”

“Well, first of all, it’s a once in a lifetime opportunity for you. Who knows when your next chance to go to a party will be.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at that.

“Second, it’s a holiday! The only reason I even opened today was because you were begging me for hours. I thought it was because you were bummed about having no plans, but clearly it’s because you wanted an excuse to be a recluse.”

“Hey, I’m not a recluse.”

“Clearly.” She shook the invitation at you once more, brows raised. “If you go, I’ll raise your pay by fifty cents for the next month.”

Your ears perked up at that.

“Well?” She asked, well aware that she had hit the jackpot. “What'd ya say?”

Weighing the risks against the benefits, you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Make it a dollar and you’ve got a deal.”

“HAPPY VALENTINE’S, CHOI.”

When Soobin heard the sarcastic remark coming from his best friend, Felix, he had to fight back the urge to burst into tears then and there. He still wasn’t quite sure how Felix had convinced him to come, but he was already regretting it. The last thing he wanted to do to celebrate the day dedicated to love was spend it at a house party—or, as Soobin preferred to call them, any outcast high school kid’s version of hell on earth.

With a quick peek between his fingers, which he had used to cover his eyes immediately upon arriving at the site of the Valentine’s party, Soobin caught another eye-full of couples getting all too familiar with one another out in the open. He gulped, letting his hands grip the handles of the bike as he averted his gaze, choosing to cast his best glare at Felix, who was busy adjusting his ever-present beanie.

“Shut up,” he murmured, slowly sliding off the seat of his bike. He dusted off the worn, tearing cushion, glancing around the area. “Now quick, we gotta put our stuff somewhere safe.”

Felix looked aghast, making no moves to help Soobin in his search for a hiding spot. “What are you doing?”

“Tryna find a safe place for my bike?” He thought the answer to be somewhat obvious, but clearly Felix wasn’t on the same track of thinking. “You don’t know today’s world! Anyone is willing to steal nowadays.”

“Soobin, your bike is coughing up oil from its chains. It should be in its own care home at this rate.”

“I don’t wanna hear your slander, skater boy,” Soobin retorted, eyeing Felix’s ebony skateboard that he refused to be seen without. As if on cue, when he pushed his bike forward, the chains squealed, drawing the attention of a pair of particularly passionate individuals who had been wrapped up with one another moments before. Soobin ignored their annoyed stares, feeling his ears burn from embarrassment. He glanced back to Felix. “Help me find a hiding spot.”

Felix was anything but enthusiastic, but he began to help Soobin search nonetheless.

“Slide it in here, Soobs,” Felix called a few moments later. He was pointed to an empty space between the home’s perfectly trimmed bushes. Soobin pursed his lips together, pushing his large glasses further up the bridge of his nose—a nervous tick of his. Felix groaned, rolling his eyes. “Or you can leave it out in the open so it’ll spit more oil on the passersby? Is that what you want?”

“Fine, fine!” Soobin huffed, wheeling his bike over to the shrubbery, chains squeaking all the way. He carefully laid it beneath the brush and moved a few branches to cover it up nicely. He stood up straight, dusting his hands on the front of his loose blue jeans. “What about your skateboard?”

Felix gave the board a pat, awarding his most prized possession a dazzling smile one would expect to see a proud father giving his beloved son. But in reality, it was the school’s stoner grinning ear to ear at his old, dusty skateboard. “Nightrider stays with me.”

Soobin scrunched his nose, cringing on instinct. He still calls that thing by that stupid name?

Felix clapped him on the shoulder before he could make a remark, catching him off guard when he said, “Right. Let’s go and get your girl.”

There was nothing Soobin could do to stop the flush that rushed to his cheeks right away. Images of you, his ex-best friend and the only reason he had even come to this party in the first place, flashed through his mind. Had he not overheard Yeonjun invite you earlier that morning and then casually mention the encounter to Felix, there was no way he would have even stepped foot out of his house that night. Part of him was peeved, wishing he had never uttered a single word about you to his overbearing friend. Yet, deep down, there was hope within him—the tiniest sliver.

If there was even the slightest chance that he could talk to you that night, he would do anything. Even if it meant dealing with a stupid party, and the never-ceasing teasing he was bound to continue receiving from Felix.

“Don’t even say that,” He said, emphasizing each word as they walked up the front steps. Soobin had to glance down at his much shorter friend to see the devious grin on his freckled face.

“Say what? That she’s your girl, your woman, your one and only?”

The blush must have been creeping to his neck by that point. He could feel it. “I. . .” There were many things Soobin wished to say; angry words that would hopefully shut the blonde skater boy up real quick. But he couldn’t bring himself to say a single harsh word, so he sighed in defeat. “I can’t even say it.”

“That you hate me?” Felix only grinned even bigger, and Soobin couldn’t help the tiny defeated smile that slipped over his features. “Oh, I know. It’s because I’m too good of a best friend.”

They stepped into the house then, instantly being overwhelmed by loud music, boisterous laughter, and drunken yells echoing throughout the halls. Soobin latched onto Felix right away, gripping his friend’s sleeve as someone stumbled into him, a bit of beer spilling from their cup. He pushed his glasses up, only for them to slide right back down as he began to sweat.

“Maybe we should go home, Lix!” Soobin shouted to be heard over the noise as they travelled further into the house. “We can always try next year!”

“Stop being a scaredy-cat!” Felix shouted back, and Soobin thought he might actually begin to cry as they squeezed their way into the living room. Soobin nearly gagged at the strong smell of alcohol as it burned in his nose. The scene was nothing short of a nightmare to Soobin—loud voices, smoke rising in the air, vodka assaulting his nose and sweat beading on the back of his neck. He had never been one to drink, and he didn’t plan on starting that night; but he was beginning to understand what Felix meant when he had once told him it was nearly impossible to get through one of these parties sober.

He was about to make another complaint and beg to leave when someone from the crowd hollered his name, causing him to wince when he recognized that voice as the one that belonged to none other than Choi Yeonjun.

“Soobin! Where you been?”

Soobin smiled nervously at the school’s heartthrob—and textbook snobby rich kid—before he turned back to Felix. He didn’t want to leave his friend, but he knew that he would never hear the end of it if he ignored Yeonjun’s persistent calls. “I’ll be right back,” He promised Felix, still holding onto his sleeve.

“No, no,” Felix assured. “You go. You’ll probably find her around that place anyway.”

Soobin wasn’t so sure of that. You were definitely not of the right social standing to be caught amongst the circle of the school’s rich boys—which was why it had surprised Soobin that Yeonjun had invited you to the party in the first place. Your high school had its own caste system, and you were near the bottom of it.

And, as much as it pained him to admit it, Soobin was stuck at the very top with all the other rich snobs who cared about nothing more than their daily allowances that came straight from their daddy’s bank account.

“What about you, buddy?” He asked Felix, desperate for any excuse to remain by his friend’s side. He would have tried to bring Felix with him, but his friend was in an even worse social standing than you were—he was poor, and he was most known for being the school’s pothead. There was no way Soobin would willingly drag him into a situation where nothing but slander and torment awaited him.

“Me?” Felix shrugged, gripping his board tighter. “I’ll just smoke away the night.”

Soobin pouted, glancing back at the group of preps as they called for him once again. He sighed, clapping Felix on the shoulder. “Just make sure you won’t smell too much of it when I come back.”

Submitting himself to his doom then, he turned on his heel and slowly made his way to where the group of boys sat near the sofa, giving them a half-hearted wave.

“Why were you hanging around that Felix guy?” Yeonjun asked once Soobin had reached their circle. “Did he blackmail you or something?”

Soobin frowned, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “He’s my friend.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, brushing a hand through his perfectly-straightened ebony locks. “Sure he is. Tell me, do you see every kid you find on the streets as some sort of personal charity project? Or is it just Felix and—what was her name—” He snapped his fingers then before he said, “Y/N, right?”

Soobin didn’t respond—well, it was more like he couldn’t respond. By nature he was a very passive being, but nothing drew him closer to bouts of anger than when the people he cared about were being insulted right before him.

Especially when it came to you.

Yet, as much as he wanted to tell Yeonjun off or give him a nice shove into the smoke-stained walls, words failed him. They always did. Perhaps this was why you had abandoned him all those years ago. Nobody knew him better than you did, so of course you were able to see what he truly was beneath all the expensive clothes and nervous laughter—a coward.

He figured that he’d probably have left himself too.

“Drink up, buttercup.” The chipper voice that belonged to the other Choi in the small gathering of socialites, Choi Beomgyu, thrust a plastic red cup towards Soobin’s chest.

He shook his head, throwing another wavering smile in his direction. “No thanks. I don’t drink.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t. Why are you even here then?”

Once again, Soobin chose silence as his only response. He swallowed, patting the front pocket of his denim jacket. As the group of boys began conversing once more, he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander around the room, searching every drunken face for the features that belonged to you, trying to hear your name in every conversation, desperate for your voice to break through the blasting music and shouting voices.

“Who ya looking for there, Big Choi?” Soobin grimaced at the nickname. He was skinny, but incredibly tall, and nobody would let him forget that. “Big Choi” was one of his most common nicknames among the elitists. He despised it, but of course, he would never voice that aloud.

He glanced at Beomgyu and smiled nervously again, shaking his head. “Nobody.”

His eyes met Yeonjun’s and he gulped yet again as the latter eyed him with suspicion. It wasn’t as though he had anything to hide, but something about Yeonjun’s calculating gaze made his skin crawl.

He needed to escape. Just for a moment, at least.

“I’ll be right back. Going to find some water.”

He slipped out of the living room then, apologizing profusely to each couple he accidentally bumped into, bowing in remorse to each person’s toes his big feet happened to stumble over. He ached to be by Felix’s side—the stoned skateboarder had become somewhat of a security blanket to the taller of the duo—but his blonde friend was nowhere to be seen.

After snagging a bottle of water from the kitchen, Soobin managed to slip into an empty bathroom. He slammed the door shut and wasted no time in locking it. Letting out the biggest sigh of relief, he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the door, taking a big gulp of the ice cold water.

He set the bottle on the counter and carefully reached into the front pocket of his jacket, his fingers finding the piece of paper he had been storing there all evening. He pulled it out and let his eyes wander over his middle school creation. It was a big heart, cut out from a scrap piece of red construction paper. Scrawled across it in his eight-grade handwriting were the words, Be mine this Valentine’s! His name was etched at the bottom, and at the very top, delicately printed in hot pink glitter glue, your name was written as well.

He had planned to give this to you four years ago on Valentine’s day. Everything had been planned out perfectly; he was to pick you up on his old, trusty bike. It wasn’t really made for two people, but the two of you had fashioned a makeshift extra seat for you to sit upon whenever you went places together.

He wanted to take you to the Dairy Shack, which was the local ice cream shop where the two of you spent the most time together. You always got a large chocolate shake to share, playing a quick game of rock, paper, scissors to decide who got to eat the cherry on top. He was going to order a shake and specially ask for two cherries that time, and planned to give both of them to you before he would bravely present you with the handmade card he had spent all day working on.

However, when he waited for you outside your house that day, the red dusk turned to pitch black night, and you never stepped foot out your door.

He had even gone up to your door a few times and knocked, but there was no answer. Eventually he pedalled off into the night, back to his house. He was disappointed, of course, but more worried than anything else. He had hoped you weren’t sick.

But when he saw you at school the next day, he knew that hadn’t been the case.

And when you ignored him calling your name as you passed by him in the hallways, he knew that something had drastically changed.

For weeks, Soobin was in great turmoil as he replayed your last few encounters together before you had stood him up. Perhaps you were angry that he had won the last few games of rock, paper, scissors? If he had known, he would have given you all the cherries for the rest of time if it meant you would still talk to him. He didn’t care about them—he cared about you.

He missed you.

And as weeks turned to months, and months turned to years, you still barely spoke to him, and he missed you more and more. The best friend he had wanted to take a step closer to had taken a thousand steps back from him, and he still had no idea why.

But that night, he was determined to find out.

Well, if he could muster up the courage to get a single word out, of course.

He folded the heart back up and stuck it back in his pocket, taking a deep breath as he observed himself in the fogged-up mirror. He fixed his bright blue hair that Felix had helped him bleach and dye, making sure the pieces fell over the corners of his eyes just right. He straightened his white turtleneck and cuffed the sleeves of his denim jacket until he was at least somewhat content with his appearance.

“You can do this, Soobs,” He told himself, adjusting his big round glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “That’s what Felix would say.”

“Hey, rich boy!” A loud scream came from outside the bathroom door, accompanied by harsh knocking that sent Soobin stumbling backwards until he fell in the shower, pulling the curtains down with him.

“Hurry up in there! I’m about to piss myself!”

Soobin let out a shaky sigh, scrambling to his feet as he rushed to fix the curtain he had torn down with his clumsiness. “Sorry,” he mumbled, though he doubted the person on the other side of the door could hear him.

He realized then with an ever growing dread that it would be a miracle if he survived the night long enough to even find you, but it would take the work of God himself for him to actually speak to you.

He figured it was time for him to start praying.

YOU KNEW IT WAS A MISTAKE TO LET JEN DO YOUR MAKEUP.

When she had stopped you on your way out the door with a compact of bright purple eyeshadow, you had turned her down right away. No way in all of creation were you walking in a party with such an atrocious color caked up to your brow bone.

“How can you say it’s gonna look bad if you haven’t even let me try?” Jen had asked.

You had given her a once-over, your lips pressed into a thin line. “If it’s gonna look anything like the way you do your own makeup, I’m gonna have to pass.”

After that snide remark, she had threatened to fire you if you didn’t let her apply the makeup. And so you obliged, though you didn’t have much of a choice.

The booming sounds of the party hit your ears before you had even reached the lawn. Screaming teens—well, there were probably some adults thrown in there as well—and the sound of music spilled through the open windows of the home. Couples and singles alike were scattered throughout the perfectly kept lawn that was now littered with empty cups and other assortments of garbage.

You looked down at your patchwork jeans and pink sweater, certain that you would be underdressed compared to the rest of the partygoers. But from the looks of things, as you carefully squeezed your way through the front door and into the home, everyone was probably too wasted to even notice your arrival, let alone care about your looks.

You caught a glimpse of your face in the hallway mirror, cringing at the sight of your eyeshadow. You had tried to wipe some of it away before arriving, but it simply smudged, giving you quite the shocking smoky, purple eye look. For someone who didn’t even know the difference between a paintbrush and a makeup brush, it was a bold look, to say the least.

If Soobin saw you looking like this, he’d probably have a heart attack.

Soobin.

In the midst of all your frantic preparation, you had nearly forgotten about the main reason why you had planned to avoid this party at all costs. With a quick glance around the room, you realized that he was nowhere to be seen. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he hadn’t shown up at all. He was never a fan of parties, anyway.

You crossed your arms over your chest and slowly slipped past the couples crowding the hallway with their limbs intertwined, mouths practically swallowing one another whole, until you reached the living room. Surprisingly, it was less crowded in here than you thought it might be. A few minglers were scattered about the room’s perimeter, but they all kept away from the center of the room, which was occupied by none other than Choi Yeonjun and all his brainless, rich-boy worshippers. You quickly scanned the group, not able to make out Soobin among them. When you realized he wasn’t there, you were partly relieved and partly disappointed. If was to be anywhere at this party, it would probably be with these guys.

With a quick turn on your heel, you planned to make your way out of the living room before Yeonjun could see you. The last thing you wanted was for the boy with a bruised ego to see you, regardless of whether or not he had been the one to invite you.

“Y/N? You came?”

Too late.

Plastering a forced grin to your face, you slowly turned to face Yeonjun, who had just called your name. He was eyeing you with slight surprise, but soon, a smirk slipped across his lips as he motioned for you to come over. You had to hold back your sigh, wishing there was some way for you to get out of this situation. It was all Jen’s fault that you had to show up in the first place. You decided you were going to demand an extra ten cents be added to your raise the next time you saw your pushy boss.

“Hey Yeonjun,” you said once you had walked over to him. “I figured I’d stop by for a minute or two, since you were kind enough to invite me.”

He smirked, glancing at a few of his friends. They shared a knowing laugh with one another, but the meaning of it was lost to you. You wanted nothing more than to get away from them, but that wasn’t an option.

“You’re too busy to go out with me to a basketball game but free enough to come to a party, huh?” He asked.

You blinked, digging your nails into your arms. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s fine, really,” He drawled, swirling his plastic cup of beer in his hand. “You didn’t think I’d be upset or anything did you? I only asked you out because I was dared to shack up with you. But I’m guessing you already knew that, since you’re so smart and all.”

Your eyes went wide, but you managed to control the rest of your expression. It was just like you had guessed—Yeonjun had invited you to the party with the sole purpose of making a scene.

If you survived the night, Jen was never going to hear the end of it.

“You’re not gonna say anything?” He asked, pushing himself to his feet. You could tell by the slight stumble in his step and his hooded eyes that he had quite a bit to drink. He took a step towards you, causing you to back up immediately. Your back hit the wall, and you placed your palms against it as Yeonjun towered over you.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I know why you’re here anyways.” He leaned forward, his lips hovering near your ear. “You’re here to see Soobin, aren’t you? Since he’s the only one here willing to waste his time on filth like you.”

Your blood boiled, and you had to clench your fists at your sides to control your anger.

“Don’t,” You seethed, “Call me that.”

“Call you what? Filth? Or sweetheart? Why, is that something good old Binnie used to call you—”

He never got to finish that sentence, because with one big burst of anger, you stomped on his toe as hard as you could with your worn-out platform sneaker.

“What the hell!” He screeched, drawing the attention of several others in the room. His outburst even caused a few of the couples to pull away from each other’s faces long enough to eavesdrop.

Before you could even say anything back, lukewarm liquid was splashed up in your face, burning your eyes and nose. You gasped, running your hands over your eyes to see Yeonjun with his now empty cup of beer pointed towards you.

“Think twice before you act out against me next time, sweetheart. Never forget your place.”

Tears of anger burned in your eyes, and you scanned the room to see several people exchanging whispers and giggles as they glanced in your direction. You pushed past Yeonjun and quickly made your way out the back door of the house, unable to stand the humiliation for a moment longer.

Soobin arrived in the living room just in time to see you leave.

He wasted no time in rushing towards Yeonjun, grabbing hold of his arm. “Yeonjun, was that Y/N?” He asked, eyes quickly taking in the puddle of alcohol on the floor and the empty cup in Yeonjun’s hand. “What happened?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty blue head about, Big Choi. I just put her in her place is all.”

Soobin’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you ‘put her in her place?’”

Yeonjun laughed, giving Soobin a nonchalant pat on the back. “Just drop it, would you? It has nothing to do with you.”

“What did you say, Yeonjun?”

Yeonjun was growing irritated now. He huffed out a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “I said it has nothing to do with you, Soobin. I know you like to hang around people like that pothead Felix, but the rest of us live in the real world, where we’d rather not waste our time with those who have no future anyways. I bet he’s the one that got you to dye your hair that god awful blue, isn’t he?”

Soobin bit the inside of his cheek. He so badly wished to rip Yeonjun to shreds then and there. If he had Felix’s courage, the cocky bastard would have been knocked to the ground ages ago. But if there was one thing Soobin was sure he could never be, it was brave. And so, despite his rage, he remained silent, his eyes practically burning a hole through Yeonjun’s chest from how intently he was glaring.

It seemed as though Yeonjun was about to say something, but his eyes landed on the bit of red that peeked through the front pocket of Soobin’s denim jacket. Before Soobin had time to defend himself, Yeonjun had reached forward and snatched it from his pocket, revealing the large paper heart—his valentine for you.

“So this is why you care so much,” Yeonjun said, laughing as his eyes scanned the glittery words that decorated the page. “You want her to be your valentine.”

“Give that back,” Soobin said quietly, his hands beginning to shake.

Yeonjun instead lifted his eyes to Soobin, gave him a sickly sweet grin, and ripped the heart straight down the middle. He let the two pieces fall from his hands to the ground, and with them Soobin’s heart went also.

“You’re really willing to try and go against me, and for what? For the sake of a girl who can’t even afford a new pair of jeans and a boy that smokes his life away in the bathroom stalls?” Yeonjun took a slow step towards Soobin, his eyes glinting with a sinister determination. “You may be rich, Soobin, but if you choose to lower yourself to their standards, you may as well be dirt poor just like they are.”

With his hands clenched into tight fists, his glasses sliding down his nose, and his heart quite literally in two pieces on the floor below him, Soobin decided that he had had enough.

“I’d much rather be associated with people who are kind and have actual depth to their character than be lumped together with a bunch of pricks like you with no real personality—because that’s something you can’t buy with daddy’s paycheck.”

He had to physically restrain himself from slapping his hand across his own mouth in shock. It was as if the spirit of Felix himself had possessed him to say such harsh things. He wondered where Felix was then, wishing more than ever before to have his best friend by his side as he began to tremble from either the rush of adrenaline that coursed through his veins, or from fear. Or perhaps it was both.

He didn’t have time to ponder it any longer before Yeonjun’s fist collided with his nose, resulting in a sickening crack as pain echoed throughout his face in tidal waves.

He stumbled backward as people began to shout, raising his hand to his nose and gasping when he saw that his palm was covered in blood.

Beomgyu had his arms wrapped around Yeonjun, who was desperately trying to lunge towards Soobin once again.

“Knock it off, Yeonjun!” Beomgyu shouted, pushing the elder back. “His dad is on the school board! Are you trying to get expelled?”

Beomgyu looked over his shoulder at the still stunned Soobin, who was gaping at the blood that now stained his once white turtleneck.

“Get lost, Soobin,” Beomgyu said, to which Soobin only blinked in reply, his ears ringing.

“Now!”

Head spinning, Soobin picked up the two halves of his paper heart, stuffed them into his jeans, and stumbled out the same door he had seen you go through just minutes before. After checking to make sure his glasses were still intact—they were, thankfully—he shook his head in an effort to clear his mind of the static, eyes scanning the front lawn looking for any trace of you.

It didn’t take long for his eyes to spot you among the now dwindling crowd of partygoers. Your bright pink sweater stood out against the darkness, so he was able to recognize you even with your back towards him. He sniffed, wiping the back of his hand against his dripping nose as he slowly made his way to where you sat on the curb, your feet planted on the asphalt street. He wished that he looked a bit more presentable—when he played this scene out in his head over the years in which he would finally reunite with you, he never imagined himself dazed and covered in blood.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, he supposed.

When he reached you, he simply stood beside you in silence for a moment, unsure of what to say. He could tell that you sensed his presence, but you refused to look up at him as you kept your face buried in your hands. He could have sworn he heard a few muffled sobs slip through your fingers, but of course, he wasn’t going to bring that up.

Eventually he decided to slip his jacket off of his shoulders, leaning down to drape it over you. You still kept your head down as he sat beside you on the curb, but he watched you grip the jacket and pull it tighter around your body. He smiled a bit, holding the collar of his turtleneck against his throbbing nose.

“Thank you,” you muttered, wiping your hand across your eyes. You finally looked over at him, and when you did, you couldn’t hold back your gasp. “My God Soobin, what happened to your face?”

“Oh, well, I might have gotten punched,” He said quickly, trying to wave off your concern. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Punched? By who?”

He looked down at the ground, sniffing as a drop of blood hit the pavement. “Yeonjun,” he muttered under his breath.

“I’m sorry, did you just say Yeonjun? Are you insane? Why on earth would you butt heads with the Choi Yeonjun?”

Soobin didn’t say anything in response, he simply stared at you, eyes wide with beer dripping off the ends of your hair, makeup smeared across your face, your sweater stained down the front. It didn’t seem to take long for you to put the pieces together, as the shock left your face and was replaced with something akin to guilt.

“Oh,” You said, looking back down at your shoes.

“So she knows that I did it all for her,” Soobin thought.

For some reason, the idea of that both terrified and excited him.

A second later, he glanced over to see you ripping one of the hand-sewed patches of fabric off your jeans, leaving a square of your skin exposed to the chilly night air. You leaned towards him, pushing his hand away from his nose so you could use the patch to clean up some of the blood on and around his puffy red nose.

“Y/N, your pants!” He exclaimed, trying to push your hand away. “They’re ruined!”

“I’m not worried about my pants, you idiot,” You said, swatting his hand away as you continued to press the cloth against his skin. “You got punched in the face because of me, this is the least I could do.”

“That was my choice though,” He muttered, although he stopped trying to resist your touch. He ignored the way his heart thrummed harder in his chest, hoping that you couldn’t hear.

“Well, this is my choice too.” Your eyes flicked to his for a brief moment, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. “Why did you do it, by the way?”

“Do what?”

“Stand up to Yeonjun for me and get a nasty nosebleed as a result.”

“Oh.” He blinked slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on yours. “Just ‘cause.”

“Because . . . ?”

“Because of you.” He blurted, causing your hand to go still against him. He swallowed his fear, braving the best smile that he could. “Just you. That was my only reason.”

You didn’t say anything as your hand fell from his face, the cloth clutched between your fingers. The anxiety he had tried his best to suppress came rushing up all at once, and he was surprised that his ears didn’t begin to squeal like a tea kettle from all the pressure.

“Y/N,” He said, gently placing his hand over yours despite how his fingers trembled. “Why did you pull away from me?”

“What?”

“Four years ago. Why did you stop talking to me?”

You were quiet for a moment, digging into the ground with the toe of your sneaker. Soobin held his breath until you finally replied with, “I was afraid.”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“We were getting older, Binnie,” You said, and his heart skipped at the use of your old nickname for him. “You and I, we’re from very different walks of life. You get to hang out with people like Yeonjun, whereas I get a cup of beer poured all over my face just for existing, and you get a fist to the nose for trying to stand up for me. We’re from different sides of the track, one might say.”

“So?” Soobin asked, his hand tightening around yours. “Did you really think that would affect us that much, Y/N?”

You frowned, glancing down at his hand over yours.

“I thought you’d be embarrassed of me,” You said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Embarrassed?” Soobin’s eyes went wide as he gripped your hand tighter still, pulling it into his lap. “Y/N, I would never, ever be embarrassed of you. Besides, have you seen my best friend? He’s on a first name basis with the principal because of how often he gets written up for smoking behind the school. If I’m not embarrassed of him, why would I ever be embarrassed of you?”

You laughed, wiping the back of your hand across your eyes once more. “I guess I was worried about nothing, huh?” You sniffed, giving his hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry, Soobin.”

He shook his head, squeezing your hand right back. “Don’t apologize. You’re here now, that’s what matters. Do think we could—you know—”

“Pick up where we left off?” You smiled, nodding vigorously. “I’d like that very much, Binnie.”

He beamed then, almost pinching himself to be sure that he was not dreaming, but the pain in his nose was real enough to remind him of that on its own. He jumped to his feet, pulling you right up with him.

“In that case, how about we finally go on that Valentine’s date I had planned all the way back then?”

“Date?” You asked, a brow raised. “Is it really considered a date if two friends are just hanging out?”

He didn’t respond as he pulled you along behind him towards the bushes where he and Felix had hidden his bike. He crouched down and moved the branches aside, feeling his heart drop to his stomach when he realized that his bike was, in fact, no longer there.

He shot up, turning to face you with eyes wide. “Felix—that bastard took my bike!”

You were quiet for a moment, but then, you burst into boisterous laughter, leaving Soobin utterly confused.

“It’s not funny, Y/N!” He whined, shoving your shoulder lightly. “I was supposed to take you to the Dairy Shack on my bike!”

“It is funny,” You said between bursts of laughter. “Only you would get such a rusty old piece of metal stolen from you.”

He pushed his lips out in a pout, sliding his glasses up his sore nose. “It’s a good bike, don’t make fun of it.”

You grinned, interlocking his fingers with yours, which was enough to instantly wipe the pout right off his face.

“Let’s just walk, Binnie. The Dairy Shack isn’t that far anyways.”

You were right; the walk to your favorite milkshake place was very close to the house where the party had occurred. Although Felix stealing his bike had thrown an obvious wrench in his plans, it was a minor hiccup, and one he could most definitely handle. Besides, he wouldn’t have to see Felix until the next day anyways. He could deal with his frustration then.

At least, that’s what he thought anyways, until the two of you spotted Felix at the skatepark on your way to the dairy shack.

Soobin’s eyes took in the deplorable sight before him—from where he stood on the dimly lit sidewalk, he could see Felix and a girl he had never seen before, their faces nearly pressed together, and most importantly, with his bike discarded a few yards away from them.

“Soobin,” You said, tugging on his arm. “They look like they’re busy, let’s just go—”

But Soobin, who had little patience when it came to Felix messing up his plans, didn’t let you finish before he screamed, “Give me back my freaking bike!”

You had to hold back your snort of laughter at his choice of words. Even when he was trying to sound angry, he was undeniably adorable.

Soobin watched as Felix startled, clutching his spliff between his fingers as he glared daggers back at his friend. Soobin gulped, trying not to let his fear show on his face. What did he have to be afraid of, anyways? He was the victim of thievery, and his best friend was the offender.

Felix took a big step towards him, but he paused, his eyes landing on your interlocked hands. Soobin glanced down as well, his face growing furiously warm as he realized the situation he had gotten himself into.

He decided to divert the subject before it could even be brought up by saying, “I can’t believe you stole my bike! All this time I was trying to hide it from strangers, but you, my best friend! I should’ve been hiding it from you!”

Soobin noticed Felix’s female companion step off the skateboard and walk over in his direction, and for a second he felt bad for possibly ruining her night with his best friend. However, his frustration was more prominent in the moment as he fixed his gaze back on his best friend, who had fixed a mischievous smirk upon his face that made warning sirens blare in Soobin’s head right away.

“Now, now, buddy,” Felix said, his voice calm and carefree as ever. It probably had something to do with what he had just smoked, but Soobin didn’t care all that much. “You’re just gonna have to let me borrow it for a little longer.”

Soobin nearly laughed at the audacity of such a statement. “You are gonna give me the bike, or—”

“How about this, Soobs?” Soobin’s lips clamped shut at his friend’s interruption, as the thief in question gestured with his joint to where Soobin’s fingers were locked with yours. “You let me keep your bike for the night, and I don’t tell your dad about you hanging out with the opposite gender.”

Unable to control yourself, you let out a big laugh. Soobin would have felt betrayed, but he was more terrified than anything else at the idea of his father finding out that he was taking a girl out without his permission. He would be grounded for weeks—no, months.

“You wouldn’t.”

Felix’s lips curled up even more into a twisted grin that Soobin wished he had the guts to slap off his face. “God, just imagine the look on Mr. Choi’s face. Imagine him finding out about your premarital hand holding.”

No. Not the hand holding.

Soobin almost felt faint, but he steeled himself to the best of his abilities as he cleared his throat. “One night, Lix,” he warned. “If I don’t see it on my porch in the morning, you’ll be sorry!”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Felix teased. His expression changed a moment later though, when he finally noticed Soobin’s swollen nose and blood-stained turtleneck. “Wait, Soobs, the hell happened to you?”

Soobin, however, had already taken his first steps away from the skatepark, pulling you along behind him. “I’ll tell you later, bud. Enjoy your spliff with that kind girl who you probably don’t deserve!”

“Hey!”

Soobin couldn’t help but laugh as he swung your interlocked hands together, grinning as you let out a laugh as well. The anger that had seeped through him seemed to melt away in an instant as the two of you continued your journey to the Dairy Shack.

“Would your dad really be that upset if he found out about this?” You asked.

Soobin grimaced. “We should probably wait til next year to tell him about this outing. Or maybe the year after that.”

When the two of you had finally reached the Dairy Shack, you waited outside for him while he went in to order your drink. A large chocolate milkshake, with two straws, just like you used to get every time before.

When he had the drink in hand, he walked back outside and sat down beside you on the curb, smiling as you wrapped his jacket tighter around your shoulders. You smiled back up at him, your eyes creasing from the expression. Your smile had always struck him right to his core; he had missed seeing it every day.

He hoped he could see it every morning and every night from that day onward. There was no way he would let you go this time.

He just had to muster up the courage to grab hold of you first.

“You know what, Binnie, you turned out to be a lot taller than I thought you ever would be,” you said as you took one of the straws from his hands. “You’re actually enormous. It’s shocking.”

“Should I find that offensive? It sounds kinda like an insult.”

“Take it however you will,” You teased, leaning over as he popped the plastic lid off the milkshake. He grabbed the cherry by the stem and held it towards you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, holding out your fist. “We have to rock, paper, scissors for it. Remember?”

Soobin laughed as he shook his head. “I’m giving it to you this time. It’s what I planned to do all those years ago, when I asked you to hang out on Valentine’s.”

You seemed to be taken aback, but you simply shrugged as you plucked the cherry from his hand and pulled it from the stem with your teeth, glancing back over at him. It was silent for a moment, but then your eyes landed on the pocket of his jeans, where you could see a bit of red paper poking out. You leaned over even further, reaching your hand out to snatch the paper.

“What are you—hey! Give that back!”

Soobin desperately tried to take his Valentine back from you, but it was too late. You held both halves of what used to be a whole in your hands, your eyes scanning the words as you pieced them together.

“Soobin . . .”

He held his breath. Had his act of young love left you completely speechless? Were you so touched that you would burst into tears?

“This looks like a middle schooler made it.”

He let out the breath in the form of a long, long sigh.

“That’s because it was made by a middle schooler,” He said as he set the milkshake down beside him. “I made it back in the eighth grade. I planned to give it to you that Valentine’s.”

“Oh.” You ran your finger along the card’s surface, the smallest smile creeping across your lips. “Well in that case, it’s not half bad. Why’s it ripped though?”

“Ah—well, Yeonjun . . .”

You nodded, taking another glance at his swollen nose. “No need to elaborate. It seems you had a lot planned for our Valentine’s Day back then. Is there anything else you wanted to do?”

His mouth went dry at that, and he wished that you couldn’t see his face because he was sure that his expression was quite comical. All the way back then, four years prior, he had in fact planned the perfect, ideal day in his head. Picking you up on his bike, giving you the cherry from his milkshake, and presenting you with his hand made card.

There was only one thing left on his list.

He didn’t move at first, willing himself to have enough courage to even look back in your direction. But when he finally did allow his eyes to meet yours, he felt his shoulders relax and his heart rate became more manageable.

He took a deep breath, leaned forward, and pressed his lips against your cheek.

He lingered there for only a moment before he pulled back, daring to pry one of his eyes open to take in the look on your face.

The disappointment was palpable—from the way your brows furrowed together and the way you pursed your lips. His stomach dropped, and he scooted the tiniest bit away from you.

“I’m sorry,” He blurt out, his face growing warmer by the second. “I shouldn’t have done that, I just—”

“Is that all?”

Your question stopped him mid-ramble, his eyes growing wide. “Huh?”

“Is that all?” You repeated, closing the distance between you that he had created. “It’s Valentine’s Day, Soobin. I think we can do better than a peck on the cheek.”

The implications of what you were saying didn’t register with him right away, but when it finally did, he could have sworn his heart began to beat loud enough for the entire town to hear. His hand curled into a fist as he gripped the denim of his jeans. He leaned forward, keeping his eyes open just enough to watch you as he brought his lips closer to yours. He could feel your eyes on him all the while, causing his heart to pound fiercer still within him.

When he was just a breath away, he whispered, “Can you close your eyes?”

“Hm?”

He lifted his hand, gently placing it over your eyes. He leaned closer then, filling the space between you both as his lips met yours. You tasted vaguely of cherry and strawberry slice soda, and he found it quite nice the way his lips seemed to fit perfectly against your own. As the seconds drew on, your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer. He slowly let his hand fall from your eyes, tracing lines with the tips of his fingers down your cheek before he cradled your jaw, letting his lips part just enough to taste the sweet sugar on your lips once more.

He thought in a haze that it was a good thing he didn’t drink anything at the party, as kissing you was proving to be intoxicating enough on its own.

When you finally pulled away, leaving your forehead resting against his, he let his eyes flutter open enough to see the euphoric smile that adorned your features. He grinned as well, gently running his thumb against your cheek.

“I think that back then, I had planned to ask you this before kissing you,” He whispered, “But Y/N, will you be my Valentine?”

Instead of a spoken answer, you laughed, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours once again, and that was the only answer Choi Soobin would ever need.

WHEN SOOBIN ARRIVED HOME THAT NIGHT, HE WENT STRAIGHT FOR THE TELEPHONE.

It was kept upstairs at night right outside his parent’s door, to keep himself and his brother from using it in the late hours. Of course, this never stopped Soobin from sneaking it downstairs to his room in the basement to make late night calls to Felix.

And that particular evening, he really needed to give Felix an update.

He grabbed the phone from the small table in the hallway, carefully tiptoeing towards the basement stairs. Before he had even taken the first step down, the bathroom door creaked open. Soobin whipped his head around to see his brother Kai standing there, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he raised a brow at his older brother.

Soobin froze, blinking slowly as he realized the incriminating situation he found himself in.

“Please don’t tell mom,” He whispered, his eyes pleading with his younger brother.

Kai nodded, although Soobin wasn’t quite convinced that the boy was even coherent enough to understand what was going on. Soobin offered a rushed thank you, and ventured his first step down the stairs.

Well, he tried, anyways, and ended up missing the first step. He tumbled down the rest of the stairs, landing on his butt at the very end.

He winced in pain, glad to see that the phone was still intact in his hands. He glanced over his shoulders to see Kai staring down the stairway with wide eyes, his lips parted in shock. Soobin quickly put a finger to his lips, begging his brother for silence.

Kai simply shook his head and walked away, allowing Soobin the freedom to breathe out a sigh of relief.

He quickly ran to his bedroom and shut the door, collapsing onto his bed with the phone as his breaths came in ragged gasps as an aftereffect from his tumble down the stairs. He figured he should have dialed Felix’s number right away, but he couldn’t help but brush his fingers against his lips, remembering the feeling and taste of having yours pressed against them.

He was so caught up in his daze that he didn’t notice Felix calling until the third ring.

He picked it up, breathing heavily into the speaker as he rubbed a sore spot on his lower back.

“Please tell me that panting is from running a marathon, and not what I think you’ve successfully tried.”

Soobin nearly gagged, holding the phone away from his face as he coughed, flustered by his friend's crude words. He brought the phone back to his face and said, “No, you sicko, I just fell down the stairs.”

“How the hell did you manage that with those long legs?”

“That’s not important, Lix!” He laid back onto his pillows then, twirling the phone cord in his hands as he stared up at his ceiling, the memories of his adventure with you that night flooding his mind once more. He couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear as he said, “Look, I need to tell you something important.”

If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he could hear the smile in Felix’s voice too as his friend replied.

“Well buddy, I got something to tell you too.”

1K notes · View notes

reidyoulikeabook · 3 years

Text

Invisible String

Ship: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid

Warnings: None, this is just fluff.

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: You and Spencer Reid don’t know it, but you’ve almost met quite a few times. What happens when you do?

A/N: This is potentially a bit on the wrong side of the cheesy line, but I was listening to invisible string by Taylor Swift and couldn’t get this idea out of my head. Pls bare in mind I’m from the UK and my only understanding of the US college system is from Google searches, so pls be forgiving of any misunderstandings about that.

November 6th, 2007

Dr. Spencer Reid. As you sat, thumbing through the article he’d written about the formation of ionic compounds in a chemical whose name you could not for the life of you spell or pronounce, you couldn’t help but resent the man.

Sure, the paper was very well-written and as cohesive as possible given the complex subject matter. But Dr. Spencer Reid, whoever he was, was the current source of your resentment at selecting chemistry to make up your science credit. Highlighting the name of a substance you’d have to look up later, you sighed. It was getting late but you had to hand in a critical summary of the paper on Friday.

It didn’t help that Dr. Reid was: a) a triple doctorate holder by the age of 22, or b) that your chemistry lecturer was none other than his old chemistry lecturer from Caltech and practically glowed with pride whenever he got to bring him up.

You chew on the end of your pen, having now distracted yourself from the notes. Not that you were particularly focused anyway.

In another life, maybe you’d have been a budding chemist who could describe an ionic lattice off rote. In this one, however, you’d just have to settle for slogging through the list of chemical processes and hoping you understood it well enough to please Dr. Reid’s biggest fan.

***

April 16th, 2008

Spencer hated flaking on commitments. It caused him a great deal of anxiety, the feeling of disappointing someone. He didn’t have much choice in this circumstance though.

Diana had taken ill over the last weekend. Nothing serious, some stomach bug or other. She’d become severely dehydated though, and had been hospitalised as a precautionary measure. Truth be told, he might not have gone if she hadn’t caught him on the phone. He was already feeling guilty for not having visited since Christmas. He wrote her letters everyday, yet still felt like he was neglecting his duties as a son. Rubbing his hands over his face, he lets out a deep sigh. Then takes out his laptop, to send another email.

Dear. Dr Abraham

I sincerely apologise again for my last minute cancellation. Excluding any unforeseen circumstances, myself and SSA Hotchner will be available to present the lecture on May 12th.

Yours sincerely,

Dr. Spencer Reid.

***

May 12th, 2008

Considering this was your third year on campus, you sure were bad at finding your way around. In your defence, they were doing maintenance in one of the main buildings, meaning that lectures got shuffled around and relocated. You probably had a higher change of attending the right lecture by accident than on purpose.

It doesn’t help that you’re running a little late this morning. You rush into Room 203. A lot of the seats are taken, you have to meander your way past quite a few people until you end up sat almost directly in the middle. Only moments before the lecture starts.

“I’m SSA Hotchner, and this is SSA Reid. We’re members of the BAU which is based at FBI quarters in Quantico. Today, we’ll be talking to you about profiling.”

This is not your forensic linguistics lecture.

Panic hits you, hot in your gut. Scanning the room anxiously, you suddenly become conscious that you’re drawing attention to yourself when you feel the eyes of the man who is not SSA Hotchner on you. Fuck.

There’s no way for you to escape now, not without disturbing half the lecture hall.

So you sit back in your seat, resigning yourself to sit awkwardly in the lecture you’re not supposed to be in and hoping nobody notices.

But then, it’s really interesting, actually. The work that Dr. Reid does sounds similar to work you’ve done in forensic linguistics, analysing patterns of speech and minor phrase formations that can give things away about the perpetrator. By the end of the seminar, you’re sat leaning forward. Enraptured by almost every word coming out of their mouths.

It seems to be the general mood: everyone is enamoured. People are clammering to speak to them at the end. After a brief inner battle, myou decide that you should talk to them too.

What’s the harm?

You’ve decided that you’ll speak to Dr. Reid, since he seems to share more of a field focus. However, as you’re heading down, you spot him. Dr Adams, your chemistry lecturer from last year. Oh shit, it’s that Dr. Reid.

Speaking to SSA Hotchner will just have to do instead.

----

“I’ve been majoring in forensic linguistics and criminal psychology,” You tell him, “Do you think ... I mean, I know it’s a pretty exclusive team to get on to. But is that the kind of thing that could maybe get me there one day?”

Hotchner nods, “Forensic linguistics is something that comes in very useful in the investigative aspects of cases. The FBI is always looking for new angles and perspectives, those are both good subjects to study if you were thinking of signing up to the academy.”

"Thank you, Agent Hotchner,” You say, suddenly a little bashful as you notice the queue of people lingering behind you, “That was a really interesting lecture. It’s definitely something I’ll think about.”

“You should talk to Dr. Reid if you have a particular interest in the linguistic aspect of profiling. He’s more specialised in that area than I am. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to discuss any research you’re conducting at the moment and suggest materials that might be helpful in furthering your understanding of the area.”

“Thank you,” You smile, and he nods at you again.

Stepping away from Agent Hotchner, you look to your right. Dr. Reid is still engaged deeply in conversation with Dr. Adams. You glance at your watch. There was time before your next class, you supposed, so you could wait. It couldn’t hurt to find out more, could it? It wasn‘t like you were getting your hopes up or anything.

It’s then that you feel a pair of arms around your waist, a familiar scent of cologne.

“Hey!” You whip around to see your boyfriend, grinning widely.

“Hey,” You reply, “How’d you find me?”

“I was walking past when I saw you talking to that FBI agent. Seriously, FBI?” He asks, with a disapproving quirk of his eyebrow, “You want to grab a coffee before Psych?”

You want to say no. But he’s got his hand on the small of your back, leading you out of the room before you even get a chance to reply. You glance back over your shoulder, making eye contact with Dr. Reid for all of two seconds before you’re swept away.

“Seriously though babe, FBI?”

Unsurpisingly, you don’t mention your potential change in career path to him.

***

March 8th, 2009

“Come in,” Hotch calls. He looks up from the paperwork on his desk to see Spencer entering the room, clutching a report in his hand.

“That last case we were on. I was doing some more research, just for future reference about linguistic patterns. Have you read this?” He asks, sliding a copy of your paper across the desk.

Hotch gives it a cursary look over, nodding, “Yes. It’s interesting. She’s signed up as an NAT. I believe I actually spoke to her at one of our lectures last year.”

"Her work is really impressive for somebody whose only studied this at a master level.”

Hotch almost smiles, “Yes. That’s exactly why I’ve recommended to the bureau that she signs up for profiling classes. Her work shows a lot of promise. They’re sending over a copy of her completed thesis, if you’d like to read it.”

“Yeah, I’d like that, thank you,” Spencer says, struggling to conceal the smile playing on the corner of his lips.

“I’ll email it to you as soon as I receive it.”

Spencer nods, smiling properly to himself as he leaves the room. It wasn’t unusual, exactly, for him to share new research that was relevant to cases. It was important that they all kept themselves fresh and acquainted with new theories about the field. Hotch, however, didn’t miss the excited way Spencer had presented it to him. Talking about how impressive you were, as if to subtly hint. He thinks it’s quite typical, actually, that Spencer could take such an interest in someone he only knew via an essay.

Although Spencer’s response does get Hotch to send a follow-up email, inquiring about whether you’d agreed to the classes. If Spencer was this impressed with your work, it must be good.

***

June 1st, 2009

The Metro that morning is packed. It doesn’t help that you’ve not been living here long, and don’t exactly know the route from your flat to the station off by heart yet.

You'd also had to make a detour to the post office. Your, firmly ex, boyfriend had mailed over the last of your things. Really, it was good riddance. His hounding you about your choice in job had only worsened. The relationship had been hanging on by a thread long before you’d moved away last month. You were more than a little grateful that it was finally over, that you could draw a line under it all and focus on your career.

Unfortunately, that hadn’t stopped you having a little cry to yourself on the way over.

Rushing, you make it onto the Metro just as the doors are about to close, falling against the railing on the left side. You grip onto it for dear life.

On the other side of the carriage, Spencer notices someone hurrying for the train. He had been buried deep in the paper he's reading, but the bustle had pulled his attention. Your back is to him, and there’s a scarf at your feet. He wants to say something, to try and get your attention, but he can’t from where he is.

“Miss, I think you’ve dropped something,” The woman you’re standing in front of says, gesturing to the scarf pooled at your feet.

You meet her eyes, sniffling slightly, “Thank you.”

Spencer watches as you pick it up, back still to him. Crisis averted, he turns his attention back to what he's reading: the published copy of your thesis Hotch had emailed him last week.

***

September 2nd, 2009

"This is SSA ____, the newest member of our team. She’s recently graduated from the academy and has an excellent knowledge of linguistics that the bureau feels will be a great advantage to this team. She’s had her induction and now will be joining the team on a probationary basis. She’ll be spending a little time with each of you in between cases to make sure she forms well-rounded knowledge of all aspects of what we do.”

It’s a little overwhelming, having everybody’s eyes on you.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Emily is the first over, offering her hand for you to shake.

“You too, it’s really nice to meet all of you,” You say, shaking hands in turn with her, Morgan, Rossi, J.J, and Garcia.

“Hi,” Spencer calls from behind you.

You turn around to face him. You remember what Hotch had mentioned to you about him being a bit of a germaphobe, so you keep your hand by your side.

“Hi,” You say, “Dr. Reid, right?”

“You can call me Spencer,” He says, a little bashful, “I read your thesis, the study about you did about the construction of passive clauses as an indicator of guilt in adolescent offenders. It was fascinating.”

You feel yourself getting a little warm under his gaze, “Thank you. I'm surprised you’re even aware it existed.”

Hotch interrupts then, “Reid, do you want to sit with ____ while she goes over the case file? It’d be useful if you could go over how you’d go about constructing a linguistic profile.”

That’s how you end up spending much of your first day: with Spencer, huddled up over case files as he explains his profile-building process to you. Spencer’s an incredible teacher, you think. He explains his thought process without ever being condescending, leaving little gaps for you to answer.

You’re incredible, Spencer thinks. You seem to grasp exactly what he’s saying, filling in the gaps based on the clues that are actually in front of you, not letting yourself be guided too much by bias.

***

October 29th, 2009

Spencer loves everyone at the BAU. They’re all the family he never had, and he has relatively good friendships with all of them. Just, they aren’t quite the same as they are with you.

He struggles to put his finger on it, exactly. It’s a unique relationship. He shares very familial bonds with a lot of them: he and Morgan are brotherly, Rossi is fatherly, Garcia’s somewhat like an overexcited little sister.

The friendship he has with you is special. You always listen to him, even as he rambles on about inane things that anybody else would tell him to shut up about. In fact, sometimes about the exact things that they do tell him to shut up about. Just last week, he was rambling on about Star Trek when Morgan told him, not altogether unkindly, to “give it a rest, kid.”

“What was that you were saying?” You’d asked, sidling up to him, “I’ve never watched Star Trek but I thought the quote was beam me up Scotty.”

He’d looked at you, considering you for a moment, “You don’t have to-”

“I know. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know Spence. You think I’d ask for a 15 minute lecture on Star Trek if I wasn’t interested in it?”

A warm feeling flooded his chest. The look on your face was so genuine, and you’d perched on the edge of his desk as he gesticulated, getting deep into the lore and how the misconception had come about. He still didn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, until he got to the end of his spiel. And then you asked him a question. You asked him a question to make sure you understood what he was talking about. You were listening the whole time, and you genuinely cared about the point he was making.

It's then that he realises, it was hard to pinpoint because it wasn’t friendship. He likes you. Shit.

***

November 2nd, 2009

You like everybody at the BAU. They’re all quite patient with you, really, happy to walk you through how they do things. Morgan’s taught you quite a bit about the tactical side of things already, and Rossi has been working with you on your interrogation techniques. Emily’s generally just a great mentor, always happy to listen and support however she can. She’s more experienced, but still relatively new to the team too, so you feel like there’s a certain understanding between you.

However, you’d definitely be lying if you said the person you hadn’t learnt the most from, or spent the most time with, was Spencer.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed by the rest of the team, either. You seemed to gravitate towards one another, forever sitting side-by-side on the plane. Sharing a line of thinking that usually led to devolved rambling, and scribbling, until you came up with something coherent.

It isn’t until November 2nd that you realise you have feelings for him.

You’re sitting at your desk, filling out a case report that Emily had promised to go over with you before she left for lunch.

“Hey,” Spencer’s familiar soothing voice comes, as he sidles up to you, “I got you something.”

Looking up, you notice the coffee cup in his right hand, “You are my caffeine lifesaver.”

He hands it to you, smiling a little nervously, “It’s actually not that.”

“Oh?”

His other hand is tucked behind his back, and he pulls it foward towards you, brandishing a red sweatshirt.

“I know you uh, left your red sweater behind at the hotel on the last case. And I know it was your favourite one, and I was shopping yesterday and I saw this and...” He trails off, embarassed, “It’s not the exact same, but it’s the same kind. I just thought you might like it.”

You swallow, hard, “Spencer that’s so sweet. C-Can I hug you?”

He nods. Standing up from your desk, you wrap your arms around his frame.

“That was so thoughtful.”

He squeezes you a little, really leaning into the hug, his face pressing against your shoulder. His tousled hair tickles your nose a little and you smile, clinging onto him, relishing in the feeling of safety and warmth.

It hits you then. When you realise you don’t want to let go. When you realise he makes you feel fuzzy. Loved. Cared for in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. Eventually, you have to let him go, and it’s in a daze that you return to your desk. You’re so concentrated on your overwhelming realisation, you don’t realise how reluctant he is to let you leave his embrace.

***

December 22nd, 2009

Driving Spencer home from the office was really just an excuse to get some time alone with him. You’d said something about the Metro being busy, one of the services being cancelled. He hadn’t factchecked you on that.

The BAU had tentative plans for boxing day, with the caveat being that no emergent cases arrived in the meantime. It was only really four days you wouldn’t see him, but that was longer than you’d ever gone without seeing him in all the time you’d known him. You worked together everyday, and it was unusual for you to go a full weekend without seeing each other. Recently, you’d got into the habit of going out for Sunday brunch together.

Pulling up outside his house, you hear him sigh.

“I know it’s only four days, but I’ll miss you.”

Smiling, you turn to him, “I’ll miss you too.”

Something in you changes then. He’s looking at you. You may be relatively new to profiling but you can see something behind his eyes, feel the charge of unsaid words electrifying the air.

“Can I hug you?” He asks.

“You can always hug me,” You reply, undoing your seatbelt and opening your arms for him.

He embraces you the way he always has: tightly. Like he doesn’t want to let go, couldn’t imagine ever letting you go. His face nuzzles to the crook of your neck, and then you feel his thumb brush your chin. Tilting your head down.

You exchange a look. His eyes flicker from your eyes, to your lips, and back. You nod your head, just slightly.

He kisses you then. Tender. You melt into one another, lips moving quickly as you drink one another in. Kissing each other breathless, your fingers intertwine in his hair and his hand comes up to cup your cheek. Nothing has ever felt so right.

***

June 10th, 2011

Neither of you have ever really believed in fate. It’s hard to - especially in your line of work - to want to interpret the workings of the universe as deliberate. Maybe you’d think a little differently though, if you knew about all the near-misses. All the times you could have met. But fate knew better. She waited until you were ready.

And as you exchange vows, promising each other your forever, you both know you couldn’t possibly deny that this was meant to be.

------

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