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kpopfanfictrash · 4 months

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The Ten Days of Ex-Mas (M) (Pt. 2)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Holiday / Second Chance!AU / Hockey!AU

Pairing: Jimin / Reader (F)

Synopsis: Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling.

Jimin Park, star right winger of the NHL and (until recently), the love of your life, has a very large problem. Despite the courage he regularly shows on the ice, in his personal life, Jimin is kind of a coward. When you broke up this fall, he could barely admit it. Not to his neighbors. Not to his friends. Not even to his family, who are expecting him home for Christmas. In a desperate plea for more time, Jimin begs you to pretend you’re still dating – and to his surprise, you agree. Faced with a second chance, Jimin is determined not to squander it. If only fixing a relationship were as easy as falling in love.

Word Count: 44,416 (19K in part 2)

Author’s Note: Part of the Jingle All the Way collaboration with @leahsfavefics, @kithtaehyung, @yoonia, @cybrsan, and @sugaurora! Unfortunately, due to the new Tumblr text post limitations, this has to be published as multiple parts. THIS IS NOT THE START OF THE STORY. Please read Part 1 first, here.

Rating: 18+

NSFW Warnings: oral (F), multiple orgasms (F), fingering, sex in a semi-public area (brief), breast play, spanking, masturbation (M, F), dirty talk, mention of toys

A/N: all collab fics incorporate the phrase, "the holidays aren't so bad with you around."

A/N: This is not part 1. Read part 1 here.

“Jimin!” Hana cries, plowing into his legs. “Y/N! We’re skates!”

Lifting your brows, you crouch to boop her red pom-pom hat. “Of course, you are!” you say. When Hana runs off, you stand and lean closer. “Do you think she meant they have skates, or that we’re pretending to be them?”

“Guess we’ll find out,” Jimin chuckles, taking your hand to cross the street.

You seem surprised but continue, falling into step alongside him. If pressed, Jimin could say he’s holding your hand because you’re around his family but truthfully, that’s not why. He’s holding your hand because he hasn’t touched you for twelve hours, crumbling something vital deep in his chest.

Jimin’s mom waves you over to where they’ve occupied several benches. “Welcome,” she says, gesturing to the group. “The girls picked out skates for everyone – correct sizes, of course.”

Stifling a laugh, Jimin looks at the skates. Of course, the twins picked them out since they’ve chosen only the most ridiculous concepts. Each year, a main Garland attraction is the infamous holiday ice skates. Imagine a Christmas staple, and there’s an ice skate for it. Snowmen skates wait for Jimin, complete with tiny carrot noses.

“How did you know my favorites,” you gasp, bending to reach for your candy cane skates.

“Cuz we’re smart!” Ari yells, wriggling free of Hoseok’s arms.

Jisoo grabs her by the waist, picking her up to sit down on a bench. Jimin takes you by the hand again, leading you to a semi-secluded bench. Glancing over your shoulder, you watch as he drags you away from his family.

“Sit,” Jimin demands, and your eyes widen.

Somewhat flustered, you obey. “Jimin,” you hiss when he kneels before you. “No one is watching us. You don’t have to…”

He lifts a brow. “I don’t have to do anything, Y/N.”

You fall silent when he begins unlacing your boots, setting them aside on the cold ground. Jimin doesn’t miss the way you shiver when his hand curls around your ankle, nor the look on your face when he scoots even closer.

“Jimin…”

Flashing a wicked smile, he looks up. “Yes?”

A lump moves in your throat when you swallow. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Brows lifted, Jimin leans forward, pressing his shoulder against your inner knee. He begins tying the laces, taking his time to savor the closeness. By the time he’s finished, you’re glowering darkly.

“Up,” you demand, switching places.

Jimin shouldn’t be turned on by how easily you walk in skates, nor by the bossy edge to your voice as you kneel.

“Is this what you wanted?” you ask, your gaze burning. Placing both hands on his knees, you lean forward. “To tease me?”

“Tease you?” Jimin looks you up and down. “Right now, I feel like the victim here.”

Pushing yourself to stand, you nudge him with your foot. “You can put on your own skates, Park. Last I checked, you got paid to do this for a living.”

“Usually, they pay me to play in the skates. Not just look pretty.”

Your lips tilt. “Are you calling yourself pretty?”

Wordless, Jimin tosses his hair as he stands from the bench. Eyes wide, you realize your gaze drops to his skates, already tied. Leaning in, Jimin brushes your arm with his palm.

“That depends,” he says lowly. “What do you think?”

Your gaze focuses on him. “Your looks haven’t changed that much since September, Park.”

His eyes darken. “Stop calling me that.”

“What – Park?”

Brows lowered, Jimin steps closer. “You sound like you’re about to scold me.”

You snort. “Scold you? Who do you think I am?”

“Stop changing the subject.”

“What even is the subject?”

“What about my looks has changed since September?”

You pause to survey him. “You… well. Your hair,” you admit.

Uncertain, Jimin reaches up to touch it. “My hair?”

“Yeah.” You nod, transfixed by his fingers. “It’s longer. It–” Cutting yourself off, your lips press together. “It looks nice, that’s all.”

Jimin hovers a second, wishing you’d continue but the moment is interrupted by your names being called. Turning his head, he spots Jisoo and Hoseok stepping onto the ice. Hoseok has both of Ari’s hands, while Jisoo has Hana.

Heart dropping, Jimin pieces two and two together. When you arrived on Thursday, the oddest expression crossed over your face at the twins. And later, while making cookies, you often were silent. Jimin chalked this up to the strangeness of your arrangement, but only now realizes the full implication. Ari and Hana must remind you of the false pregnancy, and the events which came after.

On instinct, Jimin takes your hand again. You glance down, surprised, but Jimin is already walking, pulling you with.

Although you stumble a little, you follow. “How do you walk in these things every day?” you demand, gesturing vaguely.

“We usually wear them on ice, not the sidewalk.”

“Hilarious.”

Arriving at the rink, Jimin removes his skate guards and holds out a hand. Handing them off to his mom, Jimin opens the gate to step onto the ice.

For a moment, the world fades. This is the reason he plummeted when he wasn’t sure if he could skate again. This feeling, this rush of freedom – Jimin has felt it on the ice ever since he can remember. Your hand is grounding, keeping him steady through the inner turmoil. Taking a deep breath, Jimin pushes off on one skate to bring you with.

Across the rink, Hoseok and Jisoo lead their daughters around. Seeing them, Jimin can’t help but smile. Jisoo was raised on the rink and can skate circles around most of their friend group.

“They’re so cute,” you sigh, following his gaze.

“Who? Jisoo and Hoseok?”

“I mean, sure,” you laugh, eyes crinkling. “But I was talking about Hana and Ari. No matter what your dad says, Hana is definitely going pro.”

Jimin sees a moment of realization cross your face. A few months ago, the idea of his dad disapproving would have crippled him. Now, Jimin feels sad, but he knows he’ll get through it.

Tightening his grip, he moves closer. “Want to know a secret?” Jimin says, skating backwards to face you. Both your hands end in his, letting him pull you.

“Obviously.”

Jimin grins, spinning you in a circle. “I got her lessons for Christmas with my old teacher. Just for fun, but I think she’ll enjoy it.”

“She absolutely will,” you say, smiling so wide, Jimin’s heart hurts. “Speaking of…”

Turning his head, Jimin spots Hoseok skate past with Ari. They wave as they go, Ari’s scarf flapping in the wind.

“So slow!” Hoseok calls, as Ari laughs. “Seems like that NHL thing really was a fluke, Park…”

Jimin’s brows lower, enough that you laugh and let go of his hand. “Go on,” you tease, skating backwards. “Catch up to them.”

His gaze lingers on you as you leave, watching you glide across the rink with ease. Turning around, you weave between patrons as the ends of your scarf flutter behind you. Jimin remembers the first time he brought you home for the holidays. Until then, you’d given him nothing but a hard time with his hockey fame. Pretending not to know the rules, the players or even the sport – although he often caught you Googling what certain terms meant.

The first time you came home, Jimin’s parents were the ones who suggested ice skating. Jimin was hesitant, thinking you didn’t know how, but once you stepped onto the rink, his jaw dropped. Although you aren’t a professional, you took lessons as a kid and somehow maintained your graceful ease. Somewhat embarrassingly, that was the morning he caved and broke his no-sex-in-the-childhood-home rule.

Body tightening, Jimin locks in on you as you skate away. Similar to seeing you wearing a new cosplay, watching you skate circles is enough to draw blood to a very specific part of his body. Pushing off with one foot, Jimin starts slowly around the edge of the rink. Several heads turn, but he ignores them entirely. Glancing over your shoulder, you notice him watching and laugh, purposefully crouching to gain momentum.

Lips twitching, Jimin adopts a similar stance and goes faster. He barely outpaces his slowest round at practice, but that’s fine. To everyone else, Jimin is practically flying. As one of the shortest players in the NHL, Jimin makes up for what he lacks in stride with his speed. Offensive positions require agility, something which happens to be his main strength. Wind cuts his face as Jimin makes a turn that would send lesser skaters sprawling.

Leisurely, he approaches you from the opposite side. Glancing over your shoulder, you frown, losing visibility.

“Gotcha,” Jimin says, grabbing around your waist to speak in your ear.

You yelp, twisting around to avoid tangling skates. “No fair,” you laugh, still in his arms. “You’re a professional. You cheated!”

“Which one is it, princess?” he teases, prompting a startled breath.

Licking your lower lip, you glance sideways and Jimin feels his body lock. Continuing to skate with his arms wrapped around you, he can barely decipher his train of thought. You face forward quickly, but not fast enough – Jimin knows that look. Your pupils are dilated, eyes wide with lips slightly parted. That look connects with his lower half in a way that makes skating distinctly uncomfortable.

“You can’t call me that,” you say under your breath.

Despite this, your hand tightens in his, not letting him go.

Jimin leans closer. “Call you what?”

“Any name other than the one chosen at birth.”

“Oh, I see. So, if I say Y/N.” Jimin dips his tone. “That’s fine?”

He feels your shiver, sliding his thumb along the side of your palm, and–

“Y/N!”

You start, jerking upright when Hana skates by holding onto Jisoo. Jimin falls behind you, somewhat embarrassed he let things go so far. As much as he wants to call you princess and get you to admit that you want him – he wants more than simply desire. Something like that happening would only muddy the waters.

Ari skates past as well, begging you to join, which you do with a dutiful nod. Jimin watches you go, skating to the edge of the rink and stepping outside. Pulling on guards, he clomps towards the hot chocolate stand to buy you a cup. While he waits, a familiar hat sidles up alongside him.

“Hi, mom,” he says, smiling downward.

Jimin’s mom wraps an arm around his waist and squeezes. A lump forms in Jimin’s throat, one he manages to swallow. The past year has been hard, forcing tough conversations to be held over the phone. Worse than losing his health, Jimin felt that he lost the support of his family.

“You two looked good out there,” his mom says, moving up in line.

Jimin lifts a brow. His mom never says something she doesn’t mean – a fact that he envies. Bringing your relationship up means she has something to say.

“Thanks,” he says, waiting for the rest.

“I hope we didn’t make you or Y/N uncomfortable last night. You know the last thing your father and I want is to pressure you.”

Shaking his head, Jimin moves forward. “You didn’t – don’t worry.”

“Mm.” Her lips thin. “What were you doing, going out late with Hoseok?”

Jimin’s eyes widen. Shit. Exactly like his mom, to lead with something soft, then go for the kill. A hockey strategy Jimin has employed often, with great success.

“We… I, uh…”

His mom pats him on the arm. “Every couple has their difficulties, Jimin. I’m not going to pretend every obstacle is surmountable – only you can decide that – but running away will solve nothing.”

Stunned by her accuracy, Jimin shakes his head. “I thought she wanted space,” he admits. This much, at least, is true.

“Space is good,” she agrees. “But only when asked for.”

The couple before them in line finishes paying and leaves. Somewhat dazed, Jimin moves up and orders three hot chocolates. Stepping aside to wait, Jimin turns to face his mom.

“That’s good advice,” he says slowly.

“I know.” She smiles. “That wasn’t what I wanted to talk about, though.”

Jimin lifts a brow. “No? Could’ve fooled me.”

She laughs. “No,” she admits, linking arms. “I wanted to check in on you, dear. You’ve seemed a little… well, off lately. It’s been a while since we last talked.”

Jimin can hear her concern, the utmost care she’s taking in having this conversation. His heart aches, knowing she must have rehearsed this talk often. Truthfully, Jimin didn’t mean to pull away from his family. It became almost second nature to avoid having an argument.

“Well,” Jimin says. “This season has been tough. I wasn’t sure how it’d be… being back on the ice. And I didn’t think you or dad would want to hear about that.”

Gripping his elbow, his mom turns him to face her. Her gaze has turned serious, an indent between her brows. “Jimin. I always want to hear about your day. Okay?”

He blinks several times.

“I’m sorry,” she exhales. “I know I wasn’t… I was scared, seeing you so badly injured last year.”

Jimin presses his lips together. “I know.”

“But,” she adds, fierce light to her gaze. “That’s not an excuse for making you feel this way. Your career will always scare us, Jimin.” She holds up a hand at the look on his face. “No, I want to be truthful. Your career will always scare us, but darling, I’ve watched you skate since you were three years old. I see your face on the ice. I’m sorry for asking you to give that up. It was selfish.”

Something rent apart mends in his chest. Before Jimin can respond, three hot chocolates are placed on the counter. Smiling, his mom accepts one and hands him the rest.

“Don’t feel like you have to say anything back,” she chides, guiding him towards the rink. “I only wanted to make sure you knew.”

“No – no.” Jimin shakes his head. “I’m trying more often to express how I feel. Mom… the way you and dad acted hurt me. For a while, it felt like everyone in the world was against me, and I didn’t know how to convince them. Or myself.”

His mom blinks several times. “I understand that,” she says quietly. “And I’m sorry, dear. I’m here for you, whatever you decide – I promise.”

“And dad?”

Lips twisting, she glances across the rink, where his dad sits on a bench. Not skating, simply watching Hana and Ari be towed around. Seeing this, Jimin understands what she means. His dad still has a long way to go.

“It’s okay, mom,” he murmurs.

She frowns. “No, it’s not. But he’ll come around, Jimin – I know it.”

“Yeah.” Releasing his breath, Jimin looks across the rink and catches your eye.

You grin widely, hand in hand with Ari as Jimin smiles. Something Dr. Nygard once said comes to mind. He told Jimin it was normal to want the attention of others, but it wasn’t healthy to shape one’s entire reality from it. For a long time, Jimin only believed he was good if other people said so. Only thought he could want something when other people agreed.

The moment you asked if you could take a break, all Jimin heard was you didn’t want him. Rather than stay and fight for what he believed in, he left and now, it’s up to him to convince you things are different. Being without you cast things in perspective. No – Jimin doesn’t need your approval to live the life he wants.

But the life he wants to live has you in it.

“I can’t believe you didn’t bring pain meds this weekend,” you huff, digging around in the endless void you call a purse.

Sheepish, Jimin shrugs. “My tailbone felt better. And then, I don’t know… sitting for hours on a flight didn’t help.”

Stunned, you glance upward. “You’ve been hurt since the flight, Jimin?” you ask, failing to keep your anger in check. “Why are you only telling me now?”

Amused, he crosses both arms. “Y/N,” Jimin tsks. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you cared.”

Simultaneously annoyed and aroused, your gaze darts towards your purse. Yanking free a bottle of ibuprofen, you shake out two pills. “Here,” you insist, thrusting them forward. “Take these and be quiet.”

Partly, your dismay stems from this being your fault. Jimin mentioned he was injured outside the house, but you were too mad to hear and made him sleep on the couch. And now, you’ll be the reason for Chicago’s losing streak. You can already hear the disparaging Twitter comments.

“Be quiet.” Jimin accepts the pills to throw them back, dry. “Thanks, Y/N.”

You stare, horrified. “That’s disgusting.”

“You get used to it.”

“Nope,” you say as you turn away. “I don’t think I would.”

Jimin chuckles from behind, catching up when you push open the door to the shop. Once everyone had their fill of ice-skating, you went with Jimin’s family to a lovely place for lunch. Afterwards, everyone broke into pairs for late Christmas shopping. It seems everyone is missing one gift or another, resulting in a need for covert alliances. Jisoo went off with her mom, while Hoseok went off with their dad and the twins.

The fact that you ended up alone with Jimin hasn’t escaped you. Briefly, you wondered if Jimin’s mom was behind this to give you some privacy but banished the notion. If this were the case, she likely would have just said so. The thought makes your face heat as you enter the shop.

Things today have been… different when it comes to Jimin. First, there was his apology in the car and then, the whole skate-tying incident. Merely the memory makes you shiver, recalling the feel of his hand on your ankle. Not to mention his cryptic phrasing, insisting he should have stayed – last night. Or possibly more.

Frustrated, you glance around the stationary shop. For once, you wish Jimin would just say what he means. Then again, you suppose two can play at that game. You weren’t exactly honest when you asked for a break.

Covertly, you glance sideways and find Jimin’s cheeks reddened. Infuriatingly, he looks even better than the day before. Darkly, you wonder if he sold his soul to a witch or is involved in some sort of Dorian Gray situation.

Turning around, Jimin catches you staring. “What are you thinking?” he asks, moving closer.

Rather than fan his ego, you ask something that’s been bothering you the past hour. “I saw you talking to your mom at the hot chocolate stand. What was that about?”

Jimin stiffens slightly, and you stifle a sigh.

Six months prior, Jimin would have brushed aside the question. In the spring, when his arguments with his dad were at their worst, you tried to distract him, but nothing succeeded. Jimin didn’t want to talk about anything, but in every conversation, his mind was elsewhere. You shouldn’t be surprised this is still true but somehow, you hoped.

“Hockey,” Jimin answers, and your face jerks up. “My mom said she was always going to worry about me playing, but she apologized for asking me to give it up. I think…” He pauses. “She may have been giving me her blessing to re-sign? Not that I need it,” he adds, a bit thoughtful.

“Jimin,” you gasp. “That’s amazing!”

“I know, right?” He smiles. “There’s still my dad, but it means so much to me that she said that. And… I mean, I can’t wait around for them to approve of everything, can I? I need to do what’s best for myself.”

Slowly, you nod. “You do.”

He meets your gaze. “I wanted to thank you, actually.”

“Thank me?”

“Yeah. You told me that, and I didn’t agree. I just… I wasn’t ready to hear it. In a way, when you left, it forced me to examine some hard truths about myself.”

Again, your heart sinks. You’re glad Jimin has his therapist and they’re helping to change his outlook. On the other hand, it sounds as though your leaving was an uptick in his life.

“Ah,” you say faintly. “I see.”

Jimin cocks his head. “When you said you wanted a break, all I heard was that the last person to believe in me no longer did. I know that’s not fair,” he adds, seeing your face. “But that’s how I felt. It was easier to fall, to hit rock bottom… than to pull myself out.”

You consider this – and him – for a long moment. In September, you really weren’t in a position to listen. The rapid elation and depression of thinking you were pregnant, coupled with fear from a year of anxiety, resulted in a potentially harmful reaction. Jimin deserved more than what you gave.

“I shouldn’t have come to you like that,” you say quietly. “It wasn’t fair of me to just… spring that on you without explanation. I should have asked you to talk. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t blame you, thinking I wouldn’t listen.”

“Maybe,” you say. “If I could go back though, I’d do things differently.”

“Me, too.”

For a while, you stand there and let the words sink in. Frequently since the break-up, you imagined what it would be like to see Jimin again. You wondered if he’d be angry, whether he’d ignore you or cast blame for what happened. Rarely did you imagine he’d apologize, or that he’d taken steps to address what happened this fall.

And maybe that was another mistake you both made – assuming the other person couldn’t change or wouldn’t want to.

Then, another thought occurs that makes your heart sink. Jimin’s mom is fine with him extending his contract. The entire reason you came here was to lessen the difficulty of two pieces of bad news at once. With one in the open, it’s not necessary to continue the charade.

For a moment, you debate whether to say something and instead, you turn smoothly and pluck a card from the pile.

“Look at this one,” you say, holding it up to the light. “Do you think Ari would like it?”

Glancing at this, Jimin tilts his head. The card is covered in glitter, to the point where the pictures and words are rendered obsolete.

“I think it’s perfect,” he says with a laugh. “Look, there’s another glitter one for Hana.”

Selecting them both, you head for the cashier. Jimin diverts to check out a large stack of board games in the back for his uncle.

“You check out,” he says, waving you onward. “I’ll meet you at the register in a minute.”

“All right,” you say, turning away.

Bypassing the colorful pens near the register, you place both cards on the counter. “Can I have a bag?” you ask as they ring you up.

The cashier nods, setting to work and you drum your finger against the counter. Outside, it’s started snowing. You can’t help but smile since it never seems to stop snowing in Garland for long. Hopefully, everything will clear up for tomorrow’s Christmas Eve party. Jimin’s family never misses, barring illness or high water.

Behind you, the bells above the door chime.

“Y/N?” A familiar – deeply grating – makes you go stiff. “Is that you? Oh my gosh!”

Smile frozen, you slowly turn. Vivian Wu shuts the door with one hand, casually unwinding a red scarf from her neck. Her hair is luscious and sleek, billowing over her perfect pea coat. When she walks towards the register, you notice cashmere gloves and boots that seem untouched by the salt on the roads.

Continuing to force a smile, you nod. “Hi, Vivian,” you say. “Yep, it’s me. Y/N.”

Coming to a stop, Vivian tilts her head. As the daughter of the former mayor and a politician herself, she’s practically royalty in a small town like Garland. Vivian also happens to be Jimin’s ex-girlfriend, dating him for three years in high school before they broke up when he was drafted. A fact Vivian never really accepted.

Her smile turns simpering. “How nice to see you,” she says, her tone suggesting the opposite. “Are you visiting the Parks for the holidays?”

You nod, suddenly glad for the charade. “Jimin and I are only here for a few days, unfortunately. Are you attending the Christmas Eve party tomorrow?”

“Wouldn’t miss it. The Parks are such a wonderful family. It’s a shame you only get to see them once a year.”

Although your stomach twists, you remind yourself it’s not worth it. Vivian only acts this way because she’s not dating Jimin – but then again, neither are you. Your heart sinks, realizing you might be looking at your future. Vivian will be thrilled to discover you’re no longer together. You never learned why she disliked you, only that she’s the only other girl Jimin dated seriously.

Your very first visit, you were introduced to her at the Christmas Eve party. Jimin warned you his ex-girlfriend would be there but failed to mention how beautiful – and vindictive – she was. Apparently, the break-up was Jimin’s idea and Vivian loathed having a total loss of control.

That night ended in a harried fight between you and Jimin, becoming the first time he ever said he loved you. Remembering that night, you can’t help but smile – a gesture that widens when Vivian scowls.

“It’s a shame,” you sigh. “I’m sure they appreciate having you looking out for them, though.”

Vivian sniffs, unable to find the insult. “Of course. Anything for Jimin. Speaking of” – she leans in, her Chanel perfume tickling your nose – “I’ve been watching his games and haven’t seen you lately? Is everything okay?”

You instantly stiffen. Despite what you told Jimin, you genuinely hadn’t thought many people would notice. Of course, Vivian did.

“No,” you say sweetly. “Just busy with work.”

“That’s a shame,” she says, her voice implying that, if it were her, Vivian would make herself available, no matter the cost.

You can’t help but bristle, though the scenario is moot. Neither of you are dating Jimin, so there’s nothing to compare. Still, even when you were together, Jimin never expected you to attend every game. That was his job, not yours, he would joke all the time. Both of you were adults with careers.

Tossing her hair, Vivian nods at your hand. “And I’m surprised, Y/N – no ring? Jisoo and Hoseok got engaged after what, two years? And you’ve been dating Jimin for…?”

“Four years,” you say stiffly.

“That’s right.” Her frown deepens. “Four.”

Your tongue is in danger of bleeding from how hard you bite. Vivian’s words have little to do with you, and more to do with the circumstances, but you can’t help but feel frustrated. And hurt.

Smoothly, an arm slides around your waist. “There you are,” murmurs Jimin, pulling you close. He brushes a kiss to your hair, glancing at Vivian. “You can blame that on me, Viv,” he says easily. “Haven’t found the perfect ring yet. None big enough. Or expensive enough.”

Your lips twitch. “Exactly,” you sigh, laying a hand on his chest. “He keeps proposing and I keep saying, ‘nope, try again.’”

Jimin chuckles, nuzzling into your hair. Vivian glances between you, looking vaguely nauseated. You can’t say you blame her.

“How nice,” she mutters.

“Anyways.” Glancing around, Jimin grabs your bag from the counter. “We really should get going. It was nice seeing you, Vivian.”

“You, too,” she huffs, brushing past to the board games.

As soon as she’s gone, your smile drops. “Thanks,” you exhale, slipping out from his arm. “I… well, I wasn’t sure what to say to her.”

Jimin catches you around the wrist.

You hesitate a long moment, then turn. Two days ago, the rules of the game were clear. No kissing with tongue. Jimin sleeps on the couch. And no need to pretend when no one else is around.

Gaze drifting upwards, you find yourself unable to decipher his expression. Slowly, Jimin pulls you closer to casually fix the scarf around your neck.

“Let’s head home, okay?” he murmurs.

You nod, not trusting yourself to respond to him with words. Outside, on the street, Jimin comes to a stop. Exhaling briskly, he turns sideways to face you.

“I just…”

Dropping your wrist, Jimin shoves a hand through his hair.

“Jimin, it’s okay,” you say, stepping closer. “I don’t blame how she acted – really. Being on the other side, like this…” Lamely, you shrug. “I guess I understand how Vivian feels. That’s all.”

Jimin stares at you, wide-eyed. You think that must be it, and attempt to walk past, but he grabs your wrist again.

“Y/N,” he says sternly. “You are nothing like Vivian. Okay?”

You blink, glancing down at his hand. That’s twice in two minutes he’s touched you like this. Gaze snapping upward, you frown.

“Am I?” you demand. Stepping closer, you stand nearly nose-to-nose. “We’re both your exes, Jimin. I can’t imagine how much it would hurt to watch you parade someone else around town. God, just thinking about you with someone else drives me crazy. I’d be an asshole to future me, too.”

Dipping his head, Jimin inhales. “That’s not going to happen,” he murmurs into your ear. “I wouldn’t be worried about that, if I were you.”

“What does that –”

“Y/N! JIMIN!”

Adorable interruptions seem to be your curse this weekend. Tiny arms crush your knees as, looking down, you find Hana grinning.

Bending, you scoop her onto one hip. “What’s this?” you gasp when she hands you a bag. “Did you buy me a Christmas present all by yourself?”

“Mhm,” she says proudly. “We got you new gloves to wear when you watch Uncle Jimin play.”

Hoseok groans as he arrives. “Girls, that was supposed to be a secret. Remember? Y/N was going to unwrap the gloves on Christmas.”

Ari frowns, tugging on Hoseok’s coat. “But then the present would tell her, not us.”

You can’t help but laugh as Jisoo and her mom walk up behind you.

“What’d we miss?” Jisoo asks, taking Hana.

“Hoseok was explaining the concept of presents,” says Jimin.

“Oh, good. Any success?”

“No,” Hoseok grumbles.

Everyone laughs, and Jimin’s dad flips his keys. “Are we all set?” he asks. “I thought I’d make hot chocolate back at the house.”

“Yeahhh!” yell the twins, immediately taking off.

Snow starts to fall as you leave the town square. More holiday music plays on the drive, and you find yourself dutifully humming along. Despite what you said, there are several noticeable differences between you and Vivian. You might both be his exes, but Jimin only asked one of you home for Christmas.

And only one of you has the opportunity now to make things right.

By Saturday evening, Jimin regrets asking Hoseok for help. He might mean well, but Jimin’s brother-in-law is the least covert person on the face of the planet. Indeed, he’s done more to detract from Jimin’s goal than to add to it. All day, he’s tried to create alone time for you and Jimin with mixed results.

At dinner, Hoseok leaves a chair open next to Jimin – only for Ari to claim it. Afterwards, the family gathers to watch a movie and once again, Hoseok tries to set him up on the sofa. Unfortunately, Hoseok miscounts, and Jisoo is forced to squish between Jimin and the armrest. Little romance can happen sandwiched between you and his sister.

That’s not to say no romance, though. Ever since the stationary store, you seem to have forgotten your rule about physical contact. While watching the Grinch, you curl into Jimin’s side, holding his hand under a mountain of blankets. Jimin strokes his thumb over the back of your hand, trying and failing not to let his mind wander.

He can’t stop thinking about you and Vivian, knowing the situation is his doing. When he broke up with Vivian, he did it over the phone and barely gave her answers to the questions she posed. He didn’t know how to admit that he wasn’t in love, so instead, he made excuses about distance and hockey. It’s no wonder Vivian hovers now, waiting for you to make any misstep.

The thought of you returning to an ex is enough to make Jimin go wild. His arm tenses on the sofa, despite knowing there’s no reason for him to be mad. Still, it’s all he can think about when the movie ends and you get ready for bed. Bringing his stuff down the hall, Jimin lets you use the bathroom within his room.

The door remains shut when he returns, so Jimin busies himself with making the couch comfortable. He’s debating adding a third pillow when the bathroom door opens, and you step outside.

Jimin nearly drops the holiday pillow he holds. Honestly, he should receive awards for his self-control this weekend. Once again, you’ve decided to clothe yourself – or not clothe yourself – in the skimpiest nightgown known to man. Pink lace skims your generous curves, something you seem oblivious of while crossing the room.

Jimin’s jaw clenches. “What time do you want to wake up tomorrow?”

Gaze skipping past him, you land on the sofa. “You’re not seriously planning on sleeping there?” you demand, folding your arms over your chest.

He forces himself not to stare at your delicious cleavage. “This feels like a trick question.”

“Jimin!” You throw up both hands. “You’re injured! I feel bad enough you had to take painkillers this morning.”

“Oh. Well, don’t feel bad,” Jimin says, bending for the pillow.

“Jimin!”

“What?” He half-laughs as he straightens. “There’s only one bed in this room, and my parents would know if you slept anywhere else. This is fine, Y/N.”

Chewing your lower lip, you glance down. “Unless…”

He waits. “Are you offering to sleep on the couch?”

Your gaze snaps upward. “No.”

A tinge of awareness spreads down his spine as Jimin slowly glances between you and the bed. “Are you…” Jimin hesitates, not wanting to break the fragile truce between you. “Are you offering to break rule number one?”

“Technically, you were the one who offered to sleep on the couch,” you point out. “All I said was we didn’t have to pretend while we were alone.”

“Y/N.”

“Alright, fine!” you huff. “I don’t want to sleep in the same bed. But I’m… retracting that rule, for the good of humanity. Only the bed part,” you warn, shifting your weight.

Seeing you slightly flustered wakes a sleeping beast in his chest. Jimin takes a step closer, realizing you’re not immune to his proximity.

“Are you sure?” he asks, coming to a stop. “I don’t want to take advantage of the situation. I can sleep on the couch, Y/N, and be fine. I promise.”

“Oh?” you scoff, turning around. “And have me be blamed for injuring the ‘best offensive player in the NHL?’ No thanks.”

Jimin stares at your retreating backside. “Y/N Y/L/N,” he says, slowly following you towards the bed. “Have you been watching my games on TV?”

Your fingers freeze on the comforter. “I… I’ve seen a few,” you say, evasive as you pull back the sheets. Slipping beneath the covers, you pointedly avoid eye contact.

Unable to contain his grin, Jimin folds his arms. He doesn’t miss the way your gaze darts towards his biceps, lingering longer than is strictly necessary.

“How many?” Jimin demands, moving closer.

Gaze snapping upward, you scowl. “Enough to know you’re doing disgustingly well. And that every person with half a brain has a poster telling you so on the other side of the glass.”

Coming to a stop, his brows sketch upwards. “You’ve seen the posters?”

Jimin has seen the posters but then again, he’s the one stepping onto the ice every night. Some of the content has been downright suggestive, which it seems you know from your perturbed expression. Jimin knows it isn’t healthy to savor your jealousy – on the other hand, he’ll take anything he can get when it comes to you. Jealousy implies there’s something to be jealous of.

“They’re creative,” you mutter. “I’ll give them that.”

Jimin’s grin widens. Crossing to the opposite side, he pulls back the covers. “I’ve kept track of you, too,” he admits as he joins you.

Startled, you turn over to face him. “You did?”

“Yeah.” Turning off the light, Jimin rolls sideways. “I liked your last outfit. Sundry Sydney?�� he says with a snort. “The sticker was brilliant.”

“Some people thought it wasn’t slutty enough.”

“Sundry Sydney is more than a pleasure bot,” Jimin says, quoting you word for word. “She can do everything – or anything, as she later revises.”

You laugh, delighted. “You remember.”

“Of course.” Jimin softens. “I remember everything when it comes to you.”

In the moonlight, he watches your features change. Hesitance follows want in a way that makes his heart ache. Jimin did that. He put this space between you and, almost unthinking, he shifts closer.

“Sorry,” Jimin murmurs when his knee brushes your shin.

You blink. “It’s okay.”

Jimin is aware of each time you inhale, the rise and fall of your chest. The last time he slept next to you, he took it for granted. Now, he memorizes every single detail – your lashes on your cheeks, the weight of your body, the scent of your conditioner from across the pillow. If this is the last night Jimin can lie with you, he wants to remember.

Slowly, the sound of your breathing lulls his eyes shut.

Then next time they open, Jimin only feels heat. Warm, silken heat as he opens one eye and is immediately accosted by the sight of your bare shoulder. Stiffening, Jimin realizes his arm is draped over the curve of your waist. Your face nestles in his chest, fingers curled neatly into the fabric of his t-shirt.

Worse, your nightgown has ridden upward during the night, and Jimin can feel your bare thigh pressed to his. Exhaling softly, he tries to pull back. Under no circumstances can you wake and find him draped over you like the worst kind of leech. You let him sleep in the bed, not sleep with you, which is a crucial difference.

Unfortunately, his attempt at removing his arm only succeeds in rolling you closer. Jimin pauses, reevaluating as your curves press to his. When a mumbled sigh leaves your lips, he nearly gives up.

There’s only so much a person can be expected to ignore. Pressed to your soft skin, memories of past mornings come pouring back. If you were dating, Jimin would be figuring out ways to wake you up with his tongue. As it is, all he can do is close his eyes and pray for his hard-on to die.

“Jimin,” you mumble, pressing closer.

His eyes open. The movement brings your thighs flush together, and there’s no mistaking now, that was his name on your lips. Staring downward, Jimin wonders what you’re dreaming of, and whether or not he’s made an appearance.

Mumbling something, your eyes open. When your gazes connect, Jimin expects you to recoil, waits for the moment you realize where you are and withdraw.

Instead, you blink in a sleepy haze. Tentative, you move your hand higher and – Jimin holds his breath – lightly stroke your thumb down the center of his chest. Jimin hardly dares move as your gaze drops to his lips. Slowly – so, so slowly – you shift your hips forward and part your thighs.

Exhaling roughly, Jimin’s fingers find your thigh to drag over his waist. His hard cock fits snugly against your warm core.

“Oh,” you whimper.

Losing all sense of composure, Jimin tightens his grip and rolls his hips against you.

“Oh,” you moan, your head tipping back.

Dipping his chin, Jimin drags his nose up the heat of your throat. Open-mouthed, he ghosts over the place where your neck meets your collarbone. Panting, you roll your hips as his grip on you tightens. Each line of your body melts against his, driving him crazy.

Moving lower, Jimin brushes the silk hem of your nightgown. Your breath catches when his thumb slips beneath, drawing teasing circles against your inner thigh. One of your hands entwines in his hair, tugging in a way that makes him see red.

“Ah, fuck,” Jimin groans. Grasping your ass with both hands, he rolls on his back and brings you with.

Surprised, you land on top of him. “Jimin – oh,” you breathe when he thrusts upward, pressing his cock against your underwear.

Gaze somewhat hazy, you push yourself upright. Jimin moans at the sight of your thighs spilled to either side, your delicious breasts barely contained by the silk. Not looking away, keeping your hands on his chest, you slowly begin to move your hips. Jimin’s hands slide up to frame your waist, helping you get yourself off on his cock.

It won’t take long, he realizes with some shock. Whatever dream you had got you halfway, based on the way your thighs tremble above him. Lips parting, you moan his name and rock your hips faster. Gripping you tightly, Jimin thrusts upward. His fingers slip down your thighs, edging towards your center, when –

The doorbell rings downstairs.

Instantly, you freeze, your chest rising and falling. Jimin opens his mouth, but before he can utter a single word, you swing your leg off him.

“I – sorry,” you blurt, scooting to stand. “That… shouldn’t have happened.”

Jimin’s mouth shuts. No, probably not, but he also can’t bring himself to regret what just happened. Unlike you, it seems.

“I’m… just going to change,” you rush, practically fleeing into his bathroom. The door slams shut behind you, leaving Jimin alone in the bed.

Wearily, he collapses. “Fuck,” he mutters.

The shower turns on, and his imagination runs wild, replaying the past five minutes. Groaning, Jimin rolls over to stiffly stand. Yanking a sweater and jeans from his closet, he heads for the other bathroom to take care of himself. It barely takes a minute before he comes against the shower wall, chest heaving to stare at the water droplets.

With a clear head, Jimin can feel the full weight of dread in his chest. He moved too fast. Even with you instigating, Jimin shouldn’t have pushed things as far as they went. If he knows you at all – and Jimin thinks that he does – you’re probably freaking out in a separate shower. He needs to assure you as soon as possible that he wants this. Well, he wants you. Not just the physical parts.

Exhaling deeply, Jimin finishes showering and turns off the spray. Toweling himself dry, Jimin dresses as fast as he can to head downstairs. He’s nearly at the kitchen when a hand grasps his elbow, yanking him sideways and shoving him in the front closet.

Stumbling slightly, Jimin turns around and finds himself face-first with Hoseok. Flicking the light switch, Hoseok shuts the door and exhales.

Jimin looks past him. “What are you doing?” he asks, faintly alarmed. “Is everything okay?”

Shaking his head, Hoseok folds his arms across his chest. “No – definitely not. Your dad knows, man.”

“Knows what?”

“He knows,” Hoseok says with a pointed look. “He knows you’re planning to extend your hockey contract.”

Jimin’s heart sinks to the floor.

Coming to his senses, he shakes his head. “How?” Jimin demands. “How does my dad know?”

“Not sure.” Hoseok’s lips twist. “I think he went into town this morning, and some of his buddies told him. Apparently, news of the extension leaked online.”

Jimin is utterly still, already coming up with choice words for his agent. He knew this could happen, despite his request to keep this quiet. Sometimes teams leak the news to increase the pressure on players. Other times, another team in the league does it to spur a trade. Jimin hoped he’d have until the new year but apparently, the choice has been made for him.

“Well, fuck,” he mutters.

Hoseok just nods. “Yeah. I heard your mom and dad talking about it when I came downstairs.”

Jimin pauses, glancing at the door. “Have you just… been waiting out in the hall for me?”

“Yeah. I kept pretending to forget things in our room. Jisoo may or may not have caught on.”

“Great.” Jimin decides to push past this. “Did he… I mean, how did my dad seem?”

Hoseok frowns. “Quiet. I don’t know. He went into his office and didn’t come out until your mom started breakfast.”

Shit. Running a hand through his hair, Jimin exhales. “Alright,” he says. “Well, I guess there’s no point in putting things off.”

“Probably not.”

Nodding, Jimin turns to pull open the door and Hoseok’s hand lands on his shoulder. “Yeah?” Jimin asks, turning around.

“Just letting you know that I’m here for you,” Hoseok says, stepping into the hall. “I may be married to your sister, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

“Thanks, Hobi,” Jimin says quietly.

Squaring his shoulders, he follows him down the hall and into the kitchen. All voices cease. His mom’s spatula clatters against the bowl, and Jisoo falls silent at the kitchen table. Even you turn to face him, a mug of coffee in hand.

Jimin moves forward. “Hey,” he says tentatively. “Good morning.”

“Morning, Jimin!” says his mom, shooting a look at his dad.

Jimin’s dad pushes himself up from the table. “Jimin, can we talk?” he asks, gesturing towards the door. Based on his tone, this isn’t so much a request as a statement.

Although his stomach twists, Jimin manages a nod. “Sure, dad.”

He leaves the room, not looking behind to see if Jimin follows. Taking a deep breath, Jimin follows. When he nears the door, he feels a hand on his elbow. Gripping him tightly, you turn Jimin to face you.

“Hey,” you murmur. “Whatever your dad says – I’m here, okay? I believe in you, Jimin. No matter what.”

There’s steel to your voice, making him believe every word. No hint of weirdness from this morning remains, unraveling an unknown knot in his chest.

“Thank you,” Jimin rasps, gaining the strength to follow his dad.

The door to his dad’s study is as familiar as Jimin’s childhood, known as the only place off-limits to play in. Entering now, Jimin shuts the door and turns around.

His dad sits on the edge of his desk, hands clasped, and face lined. Jimin steps closer, about to plead his case but his dad holds up a hand.

“I think it’s best if I spoke first,” he says quietly.

Jimin stops, then nods.

Exhaling lowly, his dad drags a hand down his face. For the first time, Jimin notices moisture in the corners of his eyes when he looks up. “I heard this morning your contract is up for extension.”

Jimin decides honesty is best. “It is, yeah.”

His dad swallows, and then nods. “When my friends told me… I told them they must be mistaken. I said you would’ve said if that was true, and then they showed me the article…” Steadying himself, his dad continues. “I spent a lot of time this morning thinking about this past year.”

“Oh?” Jimin finds his voice. “What, specifically?”

His dad’s expression shifts. “Jimin, I’m sorry. I never… I never wanted to create a relationship where you couldn’t tell me things. Of course, I don’t want you to get hurt on the ice” – his voice strengthens – “but I know you. I know my son, and you don’t start things you don’t finish. You worked hard this past year to prove everyone wrong – to prove me wrong, and I couldn’t be prouder.”

His voice breaks slightly and, hearing this, Jimin rushes forward. Pulling his dad into a tight hug, Jimin lets out a sigh that sounds more like a sob. They stay there like that, their first hug in nearly a year as Jimin slowly exhales.

For so long, he’s wanted to hear those words from his dad. They feel good, but oddly enough, it feels even better to know he didn’t need this. Jimin has worked hard this fall to divorce self-approval from others. It will always take effort to maintain, but progress has been made, and that makes Jimin happier than anything else.

Pulling back, Jimin’s dad smiles. “We can go back now,” he laughs. “I know your mother made waffles. I just wanted you to know how proud I am of you. And you can talk to me about the contract if you want. There’s no need to keep things from us any longer.”

“Thanks, dad,” Jimin says.

His dad nods once, pulling open the door to gesture at the hall. As Jimin follows him out, you’re the first person he thinks of. Your face, saying you’d support him no matter what. This morning when you sighed his name into his t-shirt. Jimin recalls all the seconds, minutes, days he wanted you by his side this fall and knows he needs to tell you what he wants.

Even if you break his heart, Jimin needs you to know that it’s yours.

Something has changed since this morning.

Well, obviously something has changed. You woke up with your body flush against Jimin, one of your thighs flung over his delicious ass. You nearly came just from dry humping him, already close from the dirty dream you were having – about Jimin, no less. Something has changed though, and that something is you – because you’re no longer concerned about what might happen. About what hurt might befall you if you confess and it fails.

You want Jimin. You love Jimin, you never stopped, and you need him to know that. You just have to figure out how.

That’s proving to be the hard part. Jimin returned with his dad at breakfast, looking relaxed for the first time all trip, and his mom immediately suggested wrapping the gifts. You helped the twins wrap all morning, glitter getting everywhere, and once lunch ended, you needed to get ready for the Christmas Eve party.

Trying to cut down on time, you got ready down the hall – which proved to be a mistake, since it meant you didn’t see Jimin until going downstairs. He went all out this year, and part of you wonders if he did it on purpose. His hair has been slicked, styled away from his face in a wholly devastating manner. He’s wearing a taupe suit he once wore for an interview, a dark turtleneck beneath hugging his pecs in a way that’s distracting.

You only drove two cars tonight, and somehow you ended up in a van with Jimin and his parents. Not that you mind their company – you love Jimin’s parents, but his outfit is rated NC-17. For twenty minutes, you’re forced to sit next to Jimin and not say how good he looks in that suit.

Even at the party, your attention is immediately monopolized by neighbors and friends. Forcing a smile, you nod at the appropriate times in conversation, but your attention is elsewhere. It’s not anyone’s fault, but they just can’t compete with your ex-boyfriend. Slash pretend boyfriend. Slash man you want to be your boyfriend.

An hour into the party, you excuse yourself for the bathroom, shutting yourself in a stall to lower the lid and sit down. From there, you pull out your phone and scroll through the texts.

Namjoon: you did WHAT?! [7:14 PM]

Yoongi: they dry humped, Namjoon [7:16 PM]

Namjoon: Yes, I ‘m aware – my exclamation was one of shock, not confusion [7:17 PM]

Namjoon: what does this mean?? [7:17 PM]

Yoongi: Isn’t it obvious? They’re getting back together. Why else would she fly halfway across the country for Christmas? [7:18 PM]

Scowling darkly, you text them both back.

Y/N: excuse me, I never said anything about getting back together [7:21 PM]

Namjoon: you didn’t need to – Yoongi is right, Y/N [7:21 PM]

Yoongi: per usual [7:22 PM]

Namjoon: you said when you left that you were scared to get hurt because you still had feelings for him [7:22 PM]

Namjoon: well, this is you, having feelings [7:22 PM]

Namjoon: and possibly getting hurt [7:22 PM]

Your scowl only deepens.

Y/N: I’m not going to get hurt [7:23 PM]

Yoongi: … has he said anything about getting back together? [7:23 PM]

You stare at the screen several moments before you respond.

Y/N: no… not exactly [7:24 PM]

Yoongi’s ellipses blink, then disappear and are replaced by Namjoon.

Namjoon: look – no one is saying he won’t ask you, okay? Just… maybe you should talk before dry humping him again. Make sure you’re both on the same page about what this all means [7:25 PM]

Yoongi: what Joon said [7:25 PM]

Yoongi: also – where are you? Hasn’t Jimin noticed you’re glued to your phone? [7:25 PM]

Y/N: no. I’m texting you from the bathroom, smartass [7:26 PM]

Namjoon: go back out there and have fun [7:27 PM]

Y/N: consider it done [7:27 PM]

Returning your phone to your purse, you use the bathroom and freshen up. Once you return to the party, you take a deep breath and scan the crowd.

This year’s Christmas Eve party is at the local ski lodge. The main lobby has been decorated within an inch of its life, the focal point being a gargantuan Christmas tree. Glass windows at the back overlook the ski slopes, butter-yellow light disappearing to shadows.

A waiter walks by with a tray of champagne, and you snag a glass for something to do with your hands.

“Y/N!”

A familiar voice calls, but before you can turn, Jungkook wraps you into a hug. Jungkook Jeon is both Jimin’s childhood friend and his NHL faux rival. Being from the same town, the media love to compare them at every turn – something that’s become a fun rivalry. The last time you hung out, his hair was much longer. Tonight though, he’s wearing all black with a sharp undercut.

“How have you been?” Jungkook grins, pulling back. He’s careful not to mess up your hair or dress, for which you’re grateful.

“Good,” you say with a laugh. “What about you? I hear the Kraken are leading the division – you must be happy.”

Jungkook’s smile disappears. “Not the conference, though.”

You can’t help but laugh, knowing his perfectionism rivals only Jimin. “You’re too hard on yourself.”

“Someone’s got to be. And besides,” he adds, glancing over your shoulder. “It’s not like we have the best offensive player in the league,” Jungkook calls in a sing-songy voice.

A familiar arm wraps around your waist. “Did you two watch the same special, or something?” Jimin gripes, brushing his lips to your cheek. “There are so many good players, calling anyone ‘the best’ is kind of pointless.”

“I believe they totaled your points,” you say, much to Jungkook’s amusement.

“I leave you alone for five minutes,” Jimin sighs with a shake of his head. “And of course, Jungkook swoops in to steal you.”

“Can you blame me?” Jungkook winks, drinking from his champagne. “Look at Y/N! If he ever messes up, Y/N, give me a call,” he jokes, and you feel Jimin stiffen.

“That won’t be necessary,” you say, leaning your head on Jimin’s shoulder.

He relaxes ever so slightly, squeezing your waist with one hand. Jungkook grimaces at this, trading his nearly empty champagne glass for a full one.

“You two are annoyingly cute,” he says, but he grins. “Seriously, though, you’ve been putting in work, Jimin. It’s impressive.”

“Thanks.” Jimin nods, toasting his glass.

“Have you seen Tae and Seokjin?” Jungkook asks, standing on tiptoe. “I keep getting cornered by moms wanting me to date their daughters, and I could use some high ground.”

You can’t help but laugh as Jimin jerks his thumb. “Alcove off the balcony. Everyone is gathered there – I was just coming to get Y/N.”

“Perfect,” Jungkook says as he leaves. “I’ll meet you there.”

Once he’s gone, Jimin shakes his head. Taehyung and Seokjin are two of their closest high school friends. Seokjin is currently single, but Taehyung got married early this year. Unfortunately, you couldn’t attend their wedding, but the ceremony looked beautiful, and you sent a gift.

Setting down his champagne, Jimin grabs your hand and tugs you into a corner. Turning to face you, his cheeks flush slightly pink.

“Hey,” he murmurs, looking you up and down. “Have I said how beautiful you look tonight?”

Heat stirs in your belly. “Not yet, no.”

“Well, you do,” Jimin says, his gaze dark.

Admittedly, you were a bit unfair in packing this dress. Your original intention in buying it was to wear New Year’s Eve and post jealousy-inducing photos on Instagram. Instead, you’re wearing it here with Jimin on your arm. Silky and emerald, the dress clings like a second skin, dropping in the back to a point just above your ass. Slightly impractical, but you borrowed a coat from Jisoo.

Jimin’s fingers ghost over the silk. “You deserve to hear it again,” he murmurs, his voice husky. “You’re being kind of unfair to everyone else at this party.”

“How so?”

“Poor Jungkook will have to find someone else.”

Your upper lip twitches, stepping closer. “Is that what you’re worried about?” you coo, sliding a hand up his chest. “That I’ll take Jungkook up on his offer? Not interested,” you say, allowing your gaze to linger. “You, on the other hand – that suit is designed to ruin hearts.”

“Only hearts?”

“Mm.” Softly, your voice drops. “Why? Were you planning on ruining something else?”

“Only if you asked nicely.”

Your eyes widen, stunned and Jimin smiles. His hands grip your body, cedar and black pepper scent wrapping around you and doing its best to make you come undone.

“Come on.” Taking your hand, Jimin turns away. “Let’s go and say hi to my friends. Everyone was asking earlier where you were.”

Slightly dazed by his former implication, you nod and follow. Jimin leads you through the crowd, bypassing everyone who attempts small talk. By the time you reach the alcove, Jungkook is already seated.

“What happened to you two?” he asks, smushed between Taehyung and Seokjin on the couch. “Making out in a corner? Couples are the worst,” he mutters to Taehyung before realizing who he’s talking to. “Oh. Right. Never mind.”

Taehyung’s wife, Alya, laughs from her armchair. “No comment. We may have been making out in a corner earlier.”

A lone strand of hair falls over Taehyung’s forehead. “Guilty,” he says, raising his glass.

Seokjin pokes Jungkook in the side. “If you hate couples so much, why are you sitting here,” he groans. “This is a two-person sofa.”

“Exactly!” Jungkook says. “It’s weird for you and Taehyung to sit together, since he’s married. I’m actually saving you.”

Settling onto an armchair, Jimin pulls you down with him to sit on his lap. His arm snakes around your front, pulling you backwards to rest.

“Anyways.” Jimin looks around. “How is everyone?”

Hoseok and Jisoo appear from the hall. “Oh, thank god,” Jisoo says, sitting between you and Alya. “This area was a complete sausage fest the last time we swung by.”

“Hey!” Seokjin cries. “I offered you a drink.”

“You offered her your drink,” Hoseok says drily, sitting next to his wife. “Doesn’t count.”

Jisoo leans over her armrest. “Y/N,” she hisses. “Do you have a tampon? They didn’t fit in my purse, and of course, my body waited until now to announce we’re not pregnant.”

You stifle a laugh. “Yes, of course,” you say, handing her your purse. “Left inner pocket – go wild.”

“Thanks.” Flashing a smile, Jisoo stands from the chair and disappears down the hall.

Jimin holds you against him, his thumb lightly stroking the ridge of your hip. Your entire body melts, perception heightened at each point he touches.

“So.” Jungkook turns towards Taehyung. “What did you get Alya for Christmas, Tae? Aside from the wedding, obviously.”

Alya laughs and sips her champagne. “Go on, tell them.”

Taehyung turns red. “It’s embarrassing!”

“What is?” Jungkook asks, glancing between them.

“It’s not.” Alya shakes her head. “Taehyung was so excited about the gift he gave it to me early. This morning, he surprised me by having our wedding bands engraved. I wanted to do it last year, but it didn’t fit in our budget. Anyways, he borrowed my band to clean it and got it done! I didn’t suspect a thing!”

“That’s amazing,” you say. “I love that idea.”

“Thanks, Y/N.” Taehyung smiles.

“What about you, Jimin?” Seokjin jostles Jungkook to face him. “What did you get Y/N this year? What is it – four years?”

Jimin tenses slightly, so you jump in. “Oh, we decided not to do gifts this year,” you hasten. “There’s been a lot going on, and we –”

“I got Y/N a gift,” Jimin interrupts. “But it’s a secret until tomorrow.”

Surprised, you crane your head sideways to see him. “You got me a gift?”

He nods. “Yeah. Is that alright?”

“Mhm.” You shift in his lap. “I, um… actually got you something, too.”

Tightening his grip on your waist, Jimin keeps you still. “Oh?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

You bought Jimin a gift months ago, and never returned it. When you were packing, you decided at the last minute to throw it inside – along with this dress and the skimpy night clothes.

“I want to know!” Seokjin blurts. “Just whisper it in my ear, Y/N. I won’t tell.”

You laugh, facing forward. “Sorry, Seokjin. That’s confidential. Mr. Kim” – you nod at Taehyung – “may not respect the sanctity of Santa Claus, but I’m not risking getting coal in my stocking.”

Softly, Jimin laughs, nuzzling your shoulder with his lips. It hasn’t escaped you that he stilled your hips to conceal his reaction to you on top. Something which distracts you more than it should.

“Get off,” Seokjin groans, pushing Jungkook upward. “I swear, you make this party worse every year.”

You grin, watching their antics as Jungkook walks off. Taller and heavier than Jimin, you know he only stood from the seat because he wanted to. Wandering to a free armchair, Jungkook flops down.

“Where’s your Christmas spirit?” he asks, waving his glass of champagne. “I was just about to tell you the holidays aren’t so bad with you around.”

Alya and Hoseok both laugh, and Taehyung shakes his head. Conversation then devolves to the Seattle Kraken, and Jimin’s fingers dig into the silk at your waist.

“Did you mean that?” he murmurs, lips at your ear. “Did you actually get me a present? Because it’s fine if you didn’t. I sprung this trip on you, and we’re not – well, you know…”

“I know,” you say back. “But yes, I got you a gift. Actually.” You pause. “I bought it for you a while ago and held onto it.”

“Ah.” Jimin pauses. Slipping his thumb beneath your chin, he turns you to face him. “Y/N. I just wanted to say –”

“Hey, Y/N, someone’s calling you,” announces Jisoo, walking into the room. Reaching into your purse, she pulls out your phone and frowns. “Who’s Mike?”

Your stomach drops through the floor.

Jimin’s body tenses beneath you, and you fight for a way out of the growing panic. Worse, everyone else seems to have heard, since all gazes lock on you. Struggling to breathe, you stand abruptly and snatch your phone.

“No one,” you blurt, grabbing your purse from a blinking Jisoo. “I mean, Mike’s a client. I should probably take this call outside.”

Before they can respond, you grab your phone and rush off. Brushing past Jisoo, you ignore her look of concern. Loudly, your heels click on the wooden floor. Whispers rise in your exit, but you ignore them, face burning as you turn your phone over in your hand.

Reaching the foyer, you stumble to a halt and glance overhead at the mistletoe. Purposefully side-stepping this, you see one missed call. In addition, there are several missed texts from Yoongi and Namjoon, but these you ignore.

Fingers trembling, you swipe open the text from Mike Davis.

Mike: hey, Y/N! I was doing laundry and found your Ventra card in my pocket. I think I grabbed yours by mistake. Want to meet up and exchange in the new year? [8:10 PM]

Mike: you know, I had a really great time meeting you the other night [8:13 PM]

You grip your phone tighter. He can’t be serious. The date ended so poorly, you were surprised the bartender didn’t film and put it on TikTok. Mike can’t actually want to hang out again. Orthink reaching out to you on Christmas Eve would be a good idea.

Brow lowered, your fingers punch the keyboard.

Y/N: Hey, Mike. You can keep the Ventra card, no worries [8:25 PM]

Deleting his number, you exhale in relief and turn around – only to run into Jimin, who stands right behind. Close enough to have seen every word on your phone.

Jimin’s fists clench, having read both the texts. There’s no reason to be jealous, he reminds himself with zero success. You aren’t dating, so it’s perfectly reasonable for you to text another guy. The fact that this Mike guy hasn’t come up is none of Jimin’s concern. And yet.

“So.” Voice cold, Jimin tilts his head. “Mike is…?”

He pauses for you to complete the blank, knowing you won’t say just a client.

“He’s…” Shifting, you avoid eye contact. “Someone I know.”

“Please.”

Your expression shifts, meeting his gaze. “Well, what do you want me to say?” you demand, stepping closer. “Tell your friends a client called me. They’ll buy it, it’ll be fine.”

“It’s not fine,” Jimin growls. “And I could care less what my friends think.”

Bewildered, you stare. “I don’t understand. That’s literally the entire reason you asked me to come here this weekend. So you wouldn’t have to admit we broke up.”

Jimin’s heart flatlines. “Is that really what you think?” he demands, reaching out. Catching your wrist, he pulls you even closer. “You thought I was so terrified of explaining my contract to my family, I couldn’t possibly tell them we broke up, as well?”

Your brows furrow deeper. “That’s what you told me, so, yes. That’s what I thought.”

“Right. And is it serious?”

“Is what serious?”

“This guy – Mike. Are you two serious?”

Your jaw hangs open a second before it snaps shut. “Are we – no, Jimin,” you say, the words dripping with derision. “We’re not serious. You and I broke up only three months ago! Do you really think I managed to move on so quickly?”

“I don’t know,” Jimin admits, even as his head spins. “I didn’t–”

“I mean, god,” you exhale, ripping your hand from his grasp. “I go on one date, and somehow, I’m the bad guy. Never mind that you’re the one who wanted to break up,” you add, whirling around to jab him in the chest. “You” – a second prod – “were the one who asked to break up!”

Closing his hand around your finger, Jimin tugs you forward. “I know,” he says hoarsely. “I know I messed up, Y/N. I know I have no right to be jealous, but I am. I’m jealous, and I’m wrong, and I don’t even fucking care because I miss you, Y/N. I know you’re right here, but I miss you.”

Something in your gaze breaks. “I miss you, too, Jimin.”

“I know I didn’t fight hard enough to keep you back then. I should have, and I can’t say how much I regret it.” Sliding his hands up your arms, Jimin grips your elbows. “I don’t care if you went out with one guy or a hundred. I asked you to come here this weekend because I wanted you. I was too afraid to ask you outright, so I used my career as an excuse.”

“An… excuse?”

Gripping you tighter, Jimin exhales. “I mean, everyone knows. My parents know I’m extending my contract, and they’re fine with it. I still don’t want to tell them we broke up.”

“Well, sure.” Your gaze darts across him. “Because you don’t want to spoil Christmas – right?”

“That’s not why.”

“Then, why?”

Before he can lose his nerve, Jimin slides his arm around your waist and pulls you flush against him. You inhale when your chests touch, the silk of your dress rucking beneath his palm.

“I think you know the reason,” he rasps, his gaze finding your lips.

“All the same” – somehow, your fingers curl into hair at the base of his neck – “I’d like to hear you say it.”

Bending, Jimin’s lips skim your throat. “I told you I don’t care what my family thinks. I just want you, Y/N.”

Inhaling sharply, you turn your head. Your lips briefly touch, then you still.

Jimin hesitates, his brain short-circuiting before he connects. Springing into motion, he slides both palms to either side of your face and kisses you deeply. Walking you backwards, he only stops when your spine hits the wall. Reaching lower, Jimin grabs your wrists with one hand to yank overhead.

You stare upward, eyes lidded, as your chest rises and falls. Jimin nearly groans, sliding his knee between your legs to widen your stance.

“God, you’re perfect,” he breathes, crushing your mouth with his.

All he knows is your scent, wrapped around him. The feel of your mouth, the curves of your body arching against him. Jimin loses himself in the moment – in you – to the point where nothing else seems to matter.

Releasing your wrists, Jimin grasps the hem of your dress with one hand to drag it upward. Inch by inch, your bare thigh is revealed to his touch.

“Oh,” you gasp, your head hitting the wall.

Taking advantage, Jimin kisses roughly down your exposed neckline. Each time you inhale, it reminds him of your chest against him. Withdrawing, Jimin glances down and nearly curses. Whatever bra you have on does little to conceal your hardened nipples, easily visible through the silk of your dress.

“Mm.” Jimin exhales, running a thumb over the tip. “Can’t have you returning to the party like this, can I?”

Your thighs clench. “People definitelywouldn’t suspect we broke up.”

Again, Jimin circles your nipple, making you moan. “Sorry,” he murmurs. “Like I said, though – this isn’t about the people out there. This is about you. What do you want, Y/N?”

Jimin holds his breath as he waits for an answer. Really, this is what it comes down to.

Your grip on him tightens. “I want you to take me home right now, Jimin.”

“Fuck, yes,” he breathes.

Grasping you by the hand, Jimin tugs you into the hall. You giggle, stumbling as you fix the strap of your dress, and he can’t keep a stupid grin from spreading over his face.

“We’re leaving now,” Jimin says, bringing you towards the exit. “Otherwise, I’m going to drag you into the bathroom and fuck you like that.”

Your heels dig into the floorboards, and he turns to look at you, concerned.

“Oh.” You blink innocently. “I’m sorry, was that supposed to be a threat?”

Jimin goes still, consumed by images he’d rather not face. Visions of your panties pulled down, bent over his knees while he fingers your dripping pussy. Or your hands, curled around a doorframe while he lowers himself to drag his tongue up your slit. Or pressed against a wall, your panties pushed aside for him to –

“Alright – enough,” Jimin growls, grabbing your hand.

You laugh when he pulls you onward, bringing you to the lodge doors. Reaching the front, Jimin pauses long enough to hand the valet his ticket. While you visit the coat closet, he pulls you close and runs his nose down your throat.

“Do you have any idea how crazy you make me?” he murmurs, low in your ear. “Any idea just how many times I’ve jerked off in the shower this trip?”

“How sad,” you say, turning to face him. “Pray tell, what did you think about?”

Sliding his hand over the curve of your ass, Jimin presses you closer. “Lots of things,” he exhales. “Your pretty lips around my cock. Finger-fucking you slowly, making you take it. How wet you were beneath those ridiculous excuses for nightgowns.”

Your laugh is throaty. “I brought those specifically for you, you know.”

“Mission accomplished,” Jimin growls. Outside, he sees the valet arrive and releases your waist. “Now, let’s go.”

Slipping both arms into your coat, you follow Jimin outside to the car. He helps you in, shutting the door and traveling to the passenger side. Shoving a hand through his hair, he attempts to regain his composure. The two of you need to get home safely – that’s top priority.

Of course, by the time he sits down and glances over, all thoughts of safety fly out the window. You’ve left your coat unbuttoned, enough that he sees each sinful line of your body. Suddenly, his top priority is to get you home – now.

Shutting the door, Jimin puts the car in drive and pulls from the lodge. You exhale, somewhat breathless as you shift to face him.

“This is going to be fast,” you admit, a bit breathy. Jimin’s hands on the wheel tighten. “You said you’ve been jerking off in the shower? Well, I haven’t had any alone time. You’ve just been edging me for three days.”

“Don’t say edging,” Jimin groans. “I’m trying to concentrate on getting you home.”

“Oh?” Tilting your head, you lean closer. “Do you find that topic distracting?”

“Yes,” Jimin huffs, and then pauses. “Actually… I think you could use a little more distraction. Don’t you?”

He doesn’t miss the way your fingers still, your breath hitching beside him.

“Maybe,” you say.

Jimin glances in your direction. “Spread your legs.”

Without breaking eye contact, you spread your legs until the silk is stretched tautly over your thighs.

“Pull up your dress.”

Casually, you grip the hem to tug upward. Jimin tries not to look, watching the road, but the position is torturous. As soon as you come to a stop light, he turns.

Your thighs press against the edge of the seat, silken dress hitched over the top of your thighs. Jimin exhales, unable to see what he wants, but the shadows and skin are more than enticing.

“Touch yourself,” he instructs, and desire flares in your gaze.

Arching slightly, your hand inches lower to dip beneath your dress. Jimin keeps his eyes on you, watching and waiting for your reaction. When he hears the slip of your finger, your lips slowly part as your eyes fill with lust.

“Oh,” you exhale, and Jimin’s body tightens.

“That’s it,” he breathes, listening to your finger drag upward. “How wet are you, baby?”

“So wet,” you groan, eyelashes fluttering as you spread your legs further.

“No.” Jimin’s gaze drops to your hand. “Press your thighs together. Keep touching yourself.”

The light turns green, spurring him onward as the night changes. He watches you obey in the corner of one eye, legs pressed together with your hand trapped between them. Head hitting the headrest, your chest rises and falls with the motion of your fingers.

“That’s it, baby,” Jimin murmurs, switching lanes to go faster. “You’re doing so well. I want you to come once for me before we get home. Okay?”

Your eyes open. “You want me to come?”

“Just once.” Jimin lowly chuckles. “I know you, baby. I know you can come at least twice more tonight.”

“Fuck,” you groan, your need evident.

The record number of orgasms Jimin has given you in one night is five, but that was only one time. Jimin thought it’d be fun to see how many times he could make you come with only his tongue. Five, it turned out – or rather, that was the point you frankly begged for his cock.

A few minutes away from home, Jimin relents. “Alright,” he exhales. “Spread your legs again.”

You instantly obey, thighs spread as you groan, your fingers slipping lower.

“Can you stretch yourself for me, baby?” Jimin murmurs, the words low and thick. “Keep that other hand on your clit, now.”

Adding another hand, you arch on the seat. Every ounce of blood in Jimin’s body rushes towards his cock, enough to make things painful as you near the house. You push a finger inside, releasing a moan that makes his grip tighten.

“That’s it,” Jimin exhales, driving as carefully as possible over the dirt road.

“Ah,” you gasp when he hits a bump, jolting your fingers deeper.

Jimin clenches the wheel. “You liked that?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, glancing at him, your expression almost shy.

Fuck. Jimin does his best to angle the car, creating more friction as you rub your clit. He does his best to remain facing forward but is distracted every so often by the sight of your hips moving against the seat.

Throwing out a hand, you grasp his lower arm. “Jimin,” you groan, your head hitting the headrest. “I’m so, so close.”

Pulling to a stop in the driveway, Jimin puts the car in park and throws off his seatbelt. Shoving open the door, he goes to the passenger side. Your eyes widen when he yanks open your door, unbuckling you and dragging your hips to the edge of your seat.

“Eyes on me,” Jimin directs, gripping the seat on either side. “Just keep touching yourself like a good girl, Y/N. I know that pussy is so pretty and wet. Can’t wait to lick it clean later. Can you spread yourself wider? Add another finger?”

Your thighs fall on either side of his waist, enough for Jimin to know you can feel how hard he is. The dress continues to cover your waist, and he doesn’t lift it higher. Doesn’t so much as touch you, just keeps his gaze trained on yours.

“I need your fingers,” you whimper, and Jimin feels you grip his wrist, guiding his hand in between your slick legs.

“Shit,” he exhales, feeling how wet you are.

The slick core of heat, your hips arching against him, breaks his last scruple. Keeping his gaze steady, Jimin slowly slides two fingers into your perfect cunt. Relief washes over your face, your lips parting as fresh arousal coats Jimin’s hand.

“God,” he murmurs, twisting his fingers to pull out. Slowly, he pushes back in and watches you hiccup. “You really did need my fingers, didn’t you, baby?”

“Yes,” you whimper, scrambling to sit straighter. Pulling him closer, your thighs widen. “I need you inside me.”

“In what way?” Jimin muses, stretching you as he pulls out.

“Want your cock, Jimin,” you groan, your chest heaving.

Pushing aside your coat, his free hand yanks down the strap of your dress, revealing what can barely be construed as a bra. The tiniest silk triangle barely covers your nipple in a flimsy excuse for support.

“You’ll get my cock,” Jimin promises. Lowering his head, he sucks your nipple – silk and all – between his lips. “Want to taste you first.”

“Jimin,” you moan.

“Patience.” Yanking your hips closer, he leans over you on the seat. Using this angle, he works his fingers deeper as your body tightens. “Like that, yeah?” Jimin murmurs, brushing your g-spot. “Want to come like this?”

“Please,” you whimper, spreading your thighs.

Jimin loses himself in the haze of your body, the tight slick of your heat while he finger-fucks you. Each thrust of his forearm has your breasts bouncing, your tiny scrap of a bra doing nothing to hide the movement.

“Once we get upstairs” – Jimin thrusts harder – “I want this dress on the floor. I want you dripping wet and naked, ass in the air so I can push my cock inside you.”

“Jimin!” you gasp, your entire body shuddering.

“And then,” he adds, low in your ear, “I want you to ride me. Need these tits in my mouth, your ass bouncing on my dick as you come again.”

You cry out, head thrown back as you come apart. Continuing to thrust his fingers, Jimin slows his movement as your breathing lengthens. Slumping against him, you hold tight with both arms.

As gentle as possible, Jimin slips his fingers from your body to fix your dress and coat. Shifting your weight from the seat to his arms, he shuts the door with his heel and starts to walk up the drive.

Stirring, you look around. “Oh,” you exhale, seeing the front porch. “Are we home already?”

Jimin stops to stare at you in his arms. “Did you… think I just pulled aside on a random highway?” he asks, equal parts puzzled and amused.

Sheepish, you feel your face heat. “Maybe?”

“Fair enough.” Jimin chuckles and keeps moving. “You should know, though – I wouldn’t risk anyone else seeing you like that.” He pauses. “Unless you wanted them to.”

You squirm in his arms, somewhat embarrassed by how much you like the prospect. Seeing this, Jimin’s eyes gleam and he leans closer.

“Seems like you might want that,” he murmurs.

Unable to articulate, you nod and watch his lips curve.

“Noted.”

Reaching the front door, Jimin bends to set you down. Once inside, he strips from his coat and boots, turning around to face you.

God, just looking at him is enough to make you weak. He just gave one ridiculously satisfying orgasm – it should be too soon for another and yet, your traitorous body feels barely sated.

“Was I not clear?” Lifting a brow, Jimin walks closer. “I thought I said I wanted you naked.”

You lift your chin. “Wanting is different than getting.”

“Oh, I think you want that, too.”

Fuck. You absolutely do, but you know Jimin enjoys being teased, so you lift your chin in the air to walk past him. “Well?” you demand, placing one hand on the railing. “Are you coming?”

You let your coat drop to your elbows, stepping out of your heels to head upstairs. Jimin groans from behind, and you hear his footsteps follow.

Entering the bedroom, you drop your coat on the couch and turn. Jimin stands framed in the door, several buttons on his jacket already undone. He doesn’t come any closer, and you lift your thumbs to slip under the straps.

“Was this what you wanted?” you ask, innocently slipping them down your shoulders.

Jimin moves forward. Coming to a stop, he replaces your thumbs and casually tugs. The dress slips from your shoulders, catching on your chest, and he motions you to turn.

Obeying, you watch in the mirror as Jimin steps closer. He meets your gaze head-on, slipping a hand around your stomach to mold himself to you from behind. Finding your zipper with his other hand, he tugs down.

Both of you watch the dress fall, silk pooling at your feet to leave you naked. Well, mostly naked. A red, silk thong remains, along with your bra. Really, just two triangles of silk held up by thin straps. Your breasts spill around the materials, creating a tantalizing visual his gaze is locked on. Jimin fingers the clasp of your bra, then releases.

“Actually,” he says, his voice husky. “I want to play like this.”

Before you can fully digest his words, Jimin walks around and grasps your hand. Leading you to bed, he sets you down and urges you backwards.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, nudging your ankles apart. “Just like that.”

Releasing you, he takes a step back to run a hand through his hair. You stare upward, propped on your elbows, your chest rising and falling. Jimin stares like you’re something to be savored, then devoured. His gaze traces your body, starting at your ankles to work his way upward.

He takes in your spread legs, dripping pussy visible beneath the scrap of silk. By the time Jimin finds your breasts, your nipples are painfully hard, and he groans, reaching down to palm his cock. Your breath catches, seeing how hard he is in his pants.

“Jimin,” you moan, sliding one foot lower. “I want you.”

Lowering his knee to the bed, Jimin plants a hand on either side of your head. “Patience,” he murmurs, brushing his lips to yours.

You curl around him, fingers tangling in soft stands of his hair. His fully clothed body presses against you, nearly nude, and you shiver. The feel of his suit against skin is intoxicating. Jimin pulls back to nip your lower lip, grasping you by the waist to pin you fully.

Thrusting forward, he allows you to feel how badly he wants you. His achingly hard cock grinds against your center, and you arch beneath him.

“Jimin,” you pant, tightening your grip in his hair.

“Ah – fuck,” he groans, helplessly rutting between your spread thighs.

Your hands fumble, slipping beneath his suit jacket to cast this aside. Jimin sits up, helping you shed his dark turtleneck. Thrown to the ground, he lowers his mouth, eagerly flicking your chest with his tongue. You moan, hands fisting his hair to anchor him. Tugging the other silk cup down, Jimin switches to suck a hardened nipple.

“Get rid of it,” you pant, reaching underneath to unsnap your bra. Jimin grins, tossing your bra on top of his pile of clothes. Swiftly returning, he bends to lick and suck at your breasts.

Your hips roll beneath him, desperately searching for your release. Jimin knows how sensitive you are, knows you can come like this, but doesn’t seem inclined. Instead, he sits back and runs a hand through his hair.

You nearly come at the sight – Jimin, shirtless with mussed hair and reddened lips. Pushing yourself upward, you struggle to undo the first button of his pants.

Chuckling, Jimin replaces your hands with his. “I need these on,” he says, scooting backwards. “I need something to keep myself from coming.”

“But I want you to come,” you protest as Jimin lowers himself to his stomach.

“And I appreciate that.” Turning his head, his breath touches your knee. “But I’ve spent three months fantasizing about what to do if I ever got to touch you again. First things first.”

Lowering yourself to your elbows, your entire body throbs at the sight of Jimin between your thighs. He looks at you, reverent, before slowly dragging his thumb down your aching center.

“Oh,” you inhale, opening further.

Gaze dark, Jimin pulls the fabric of your panties aside. Your face burns, hearing your wetness, but all that dissolves at the first sweep of his tongue.

“Fu-ck, Jimin,” you groan, head tipping back.

He takes his time, working you open with long, tender strokes. No man has ever eaten you out so well, and you doubt anyone ever will again. As though driving this point home, Jimin switches from tender licks to sucking hard on your clit. You moan, helplessly splayed beneath his torture.

“Jimin,” you gasp, hands fisting in sheets.

Shifting closer, Jimin nudges one leg over his shoulders and grips your ass with both hands. Pulling you into his mouth, he devours, licking up and down in a way that’s obscene. A half-sob climbs in your throat, your back arching when he adds a finger.

“That’s it, Y/N,” Jimin pants, lifting his head. “Such a pretty pussy. Can you come for me, baby?”

“Y-yes,” you gasp.

Jimin lowers his mouth, adding a finger while slowly sucking your clit. Staring down your body at him, you feel your thighs tremble. Jimin’s shoulders flex while eating you out, his hips grinding into the sheets to get himself off. Imagining his cock pushing inside tips you over the edge, and you break apart. A wave of pleasure sweeps through you, seeing stars as Jimin curls his fingers.

Muscles limp, you collapse on the mattress. When your eyes open, your thigh is still flung over Jimin’s shoulder. Grinning, he pushes himself upward, taking your leg with him. Turning, Jimin presses a soft kiss to your calf.

“Fuck,” you groan, one arm flung over your face. “That was even better than I remember. And trust me, I’ve thought about that a lot.”

“Oh?” Jimin gently sets your leg down. “Do tell.”

You peek at him through your fingers. “Take off your pants.”

Jimin drops his hands to his belt. “Tell me” – he undoes the buckle – “in explicit detail” – he pulls the length through the straps – “what you thought about.” The belt is dropped on the floor.

Your tongue swipes your lower lip. “I thought about a lot of things.”

“Be specific.” Shoving his pants and briefs down, Jimin lingers at the point where his hips are exposed. “When you touched yourself, did you think of me?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Mm.” Jimin tilts his head. “What about when you used your toys?”

You whimper, spreading your thighs on his bed. “Yes.”

“And were they good enough? Did your pretty pink dildo stretch you as nicely?”

“No,” you whimper, watching him stand.

Still looking at you, Jimin pushes his slacks to the floor. Your heart pounds when his length is released, so hard it seems painful. The head of his cock glistens with pre-cum, the thick veins prominent. Wrapping a fist around himself, Jimin places one knee on the mattress.

“Take your panties off,” he rasps, and you hasten to obey.

Once they’re removed, you’re left naked before him. Gaze glinting, Jimin inclines his head. “Turn around. Lay on your stomach.”

Heat throbs between your legs as you do so, glancing over your shoulder. Jimin positions himself behind you, kneeling over your thighs with his cock in his fist.

“I’ve thought about this for so long,” he exhales, slipping two fingers into your pussy. Arching your back, you squirm to get closer. “When you come, I want to see you, but right now…”

You feel the head of cock nudging your thighs apart, getting wet with your slick. Leaning over, Jimin pulls open a drawer on his nightstand to retrieve a condom. Pulling this open, he rolls this onto himself and pushes between your thighs.

Each messy thrust rubs his cock against your clit, making you push your ass backwards. Jimin smacks your ass swiftly, then makes a low noise and rubs it.

“God, I missed you,” he exhales, pushing himself into your cunt.

You moan, burying your face in your arms to lift your ass higher. Jimin is thick, even more than you remember, and you feel your walls stretch with a pleasant burn. He pauses a few inches in to gently tug your hips upward.

Keeping your chest to the bed, he lifts you almost to your knees. Leaning forward, Jimin slips an arm underneath you to play with your clit. From behind, his hips slowly thrust in and out a few inches. Stretching you, yet barely sating the edge of your desire.

“Jimin,” you groan, turning your head to capture his mouth.

His fingers nudge your clit, tongue slipping past your lips as his cock gets even deeper. Each time he slowly thrusts and withdraws, you accept him a little more. Buried halfway, Jimin draws leisurely circles around your throbbing clit.

“More,” you moan, pushing back.

Jimin chuckles, retreating to grip your hips with both hands. He thrusts in slow, easy motions to work himself deeper. By the time he bottoms out, your hands are fisted in sheets.

“Fuck,” you exhale, thighs spread to accommodate him inside you.

Jimin stays there a moment, thumbs drifting over the shape of your ass. “Y/N,” he mutters. “You’re so goddamn perfect.”

Leisurely, he withdraws until only the head of his cock remains. Jimin thrusts forward slowly, making you feel every inch of him. Moaning, you bury your face in the sheets, and his hand comes down again.

“Louder,” Jimin demands, gripping your waist. “Don’t hide from me, baby. Want to hear you.”

Head thrown back, you pant as he sinks into you fully. All you do is take it, breathless and eager while he slowly fucks you. Casually, Jimin pushes your hips down so you lie flat on the bed. One foot on the mattress, he adjusts himself to push inside you like that.

“Oh,” you moan, toes curling.

Thighs pressed together, your clit rubs the sheets, making it messy and tight as he moves inside you. Gripping your ass with one hand, Jimin anchors himself to fuck you in slow, rolling movements. You arch underneath him, gaining friction but when you clench tighter, Jimin pulls out.

A strangled sound leaves your throat. “Excuse me,” you blurt, rolling sideways to face him. “I was enjoying that.”

“Oh, I know.” Jimin grins from the spot where he kneels. His cock is hard, glistening with evidence of your arousal. “But what I really want is to have you on my lap.”

A shiver runs down your spine. Turning over, you arch your back and watch Jimin’s eyes glaze. He reaches for you swiftly, helping you onto your knees. Seating himself against the headboard, Jimin arranges your body over his thighs.

Hovering above him, you grasp his shoulders. “Is this what you wanted?’

“Fuck, yes.” Jimin drinks in your body. His fingers swipe through your cunt, teasing as he bends to suck a hard nipple between his lips.

Spreading your ass with one hand, his fingers stroke up and down your aching pussy. Arching against him, you present your chest further as your grip on him tightens. Jimin slips a finger inside you, casually fucking like that until you moan.

“Jimin,” you whimper. “Please.”

Moving to grip his cock, Jimin positions himself at your entrance. “All you had to do was ask,” he says, guiding your hips.

The head of his cock pushes inside, then stops, waiting for you to take over. Greedy, you seat yourself in a single motion. One second, you’re empty and the next, you’re full of his cock. Jimin swears, gripping you tightly as you inhale. Chest pressed to his, you stay there, pussy throbbing as you grow accustomed to his girth.

“Fuck – Y/N,” Jimin chokes out.

“I thought you wanted this?” you tease, lifting your hips to swivel. Jimin’s eyelashes flutter when you start riding him, rising and falling on the length of his cock.

Thighs spread, you grip his shoulders to move up and down. Jimin groans, lowering his head to tease one of your nipples. He continues this while you fuck him, sucking and releasing with a lewd pop. Needing him deeper, you start to bounce up and down. His cock soothes a tight ache inside you, stretching your body like he was made for it.

Breathless, you press closer, curling your fingers into his hair. Jimin responds eagerly, widening your thighs to grip your ass with one hand. Tightly entwined, you move against him until he takes over, slamming your hips down again and again.

“Jimin,” you pant, your legs trembling. “I need more.”

“More?” Jimin pants, his expression truly fucked out. “Alright, baby.”

Lifting you off his cock, he ensures the condom is snug and positions himself on his knees. “Lie down,” Jimin demands, and you hasten to obey.

Settling on your back, you spread your thighs for Jimin to move between. Gripping your ankles, he lifts your legs upward. Pushing them towards your chest, he exposes you fully.

“So pretty,” Jimin murmurs, dragging his fingers through the slick of your folds. Switching your ankles to one hand, he lowers them to his shoulder and positions his cock at your entrance. When he pushes inside, you moan at the tightness. “Yeah, that’s it,” he coaxes, getting deeper. “You take me so well, baby.”

“Better than other girls?” you pant, the words out of your mouth before you can stop them.

Jimin goes still, then gently parts your thighs. Wrapping your legs around his waist, Jimin leans forward until your lips brush.

“What other girls?” he murmurs, thrusting into you slowly. “Y/N. You don’t seriously think I had any interest in fucking other girls while we were apart?”

Your heart hammers as you try – and fail – to squash your insecurities. With everyone else, you have no trouble saying what you want. With Jimin though, you’re aware he could crush you with a single word. It’s harder when the stakes are as high as they are.

“I wouldn’t be mad if you did,” you whisper. “We were… broken up, and –”

Jimin bends, rolling his hips to shove his cock deeper. Your words break on a moan, legs encircling him tighter.

“I don’t want to hear that again,” Jimin says, low in your ear. “You are the only person I want, Y/N. The only one in my bed. The only pussy wrapped around this cock. The only one coming beneath me,” he murmurs with another hard thrust.

Your thighs start to shake, but you fight to keep present. Hips lifting, you match him thrust for thrust as your fingers curl in his hair. Jimin moves faster, pounding you into the bed hard enough to see stars.

“I don’t care if you slept with someone else,” he says hoarsely, reaching between you. You tremble when he circles your swollen clit. “I just want you thinking of me from now on.”

“Y-yes, Jimin!” you cry out, not sure what you’re agreeing to, but knowing you don’t want this moment to end. You don’t want this to end when the weekend is over.

His mouth crushes yours, tongue sweeping forward to match every thrust. Jimin’s scent is all around you, within you as you begin to lose track of where you end, and he begins. Your focus narrows, becoming nothing but pinpricks of building pleasure. Jimin’s cock pounds into you harder, hands grasping, breath mingling as you come undone.

Gasping his name, you clutch him tight as your pleasure explodes. Jimin coaxes you through it, keeping his fingers on your clit to ride out the tremors. Once you’re slumped, fully sated, Jimin releases the hold he had on himself. Nearly withdrawing, Jimin slams his cock forward to fill your still-spasming cunt.

You cry out, thighs widening as he lets you have it. Fucking you with full abandon, Jimin hammers your g-spot in a punishing manner. Nearly as swift as the fall, you feel your climax building. This time, your body feels beyond your control, practically weightless beneath the force of his cock in your pussy. It’s all you can do to stay conscious when another orgasm rolls through you.

Jimin groans when you come, feeling your walls flutter around his thick cock. Burying his face in your neck, Jimin thrusts deeper to release. Clasped tightly around him, you feel the warm pulse as he fills the condom. Bittersweet, you wish this wasn’t there, so he could play with his slick. Breathless and panting, the two of you lie there until Jimin withdraws.

Gathering his strength, he sits back on his heels. Removing the condom, Jimin ties this in a knot and tosses it in the trash. When he heads for the bathroom, you stretch out both arms, feeling limp.

And happy.

By the time you and Jimin trade places, your eyelids are drooping. Exiting the bathroom, you find the lights off and Jimin already in bed. You attempt to grab his t-shirt from the floor and are met with a loud throat clear.

“What are you doing?” Jimin huffs.

Straightening, you find him already in bed, the sheets pulled down beside him. Jimin looks pointedly at that side, then at you.

“I was trying to wear your t-shirt to bed,” you say, slipping between the sheets to face him. “It’s Christmas Eve, I’ll have you know. December in Washington. Brr.”

Moving closer, Jimin slips an arm over your waist. “There,” he murmurs, pulling you towards him. “Use me to warm up.”

For this, you have no retort. In the back of your mind, a voice whispers you should talk to him, that there are important things to discuss, but everything fades in the warmth of his arms. Eyelids so heavy, you can barely keep them open, you fall asleep.

For the first time in months, you sleep through the night.

You wake the next morning with a start.

Eyes wide, you stare at the wall and feel Jimin’s arm on your waist. Rather than joy though, panic claws at your throat. There were so many things you should have asked him last night. So many things you should have said instead of immediately falling into bed with your ex.

As quietly as possible, you slip free of his arm and stand from the bed. Grasping a sweatshirt and jeans, you tiptoe down the hall to swiftly get dressed. Gripping the bathroom counter, you stare at yourself in the mirror and try to sort through your feelings. Twice, you pull out your phone only to hesitate, setting it down.

Today is Christmas, meaning Namjoon and Yoongi will be with their families. Dr. Germain, your therapist, is on vacation, although you know she would respond to an emergency. This could hardly be considered an emergency, though. This is just you, acting rashly and – your heart sinks, knowing this was exactly the opposite.

You want Jimin. You’ve wanted Jimin since the night you broke up, but were so near-sighted last night, you didn’t stop to ask if he wants the same. Abruptly, you turn and open the door to the hall. Heading downstairs, you sort through the facts.

Jimin apologized for this fall. He said he regretted not staying. He said he thinks of you often, and that he hadn’t been with anyone else. If this were last year, you might read between the lines and assume he still wanted you. This isn’t last year, though. Current you has experience with expecting Jimin to do one thing, and he does another.

Dragging a hand down your face, you stop by the kitchen for coffee. The only way you’ll be able to sort through this before opening presents is with massive amounts of caffeine.

Gazing outside, you see freshly fallen snow and wonder if it’d be crazy to go for a walk. Once your coffee is full, you pad down the hallway and slip on your boots. Your coat is halfway zipped when a throat clears behind you.

Whirling around, you nearly drop the mug as Jisoo appears.

“Oh my god,” you blurt, one hand on your chest. “You scared me. I didn’t realize anyone else was awake yet.”

“Are you kidding me?” she laughs, walking closer with her own mug. “Two three-year-old daughters on Christmas? They’ve been up since the crack of dawn.”

Nervous, you laugh as your hand falls. “Ah, right. Is Hoseok keeping them in their rooms?”

Jisoo shakes her head, coming to a stop. “They fell back asleep – Hoseok, too.” Curious, she glances past you at the door. “Going for a… walk?”

“Thinking about it.”

“It’s below freezing.”

“Yeah. I thought it might help… clear my mind.”

Her brows furrow, pensive enough that you nearly curse. You couldn’t be more obvious that you and Jimin are having trouble. There’s no other reason to be up this early, trying to escape into the wilderness rather than face your ex.

Plaintive, she takes a sip of her coffee. “You know, I know you two are broken up.”

Well, fuck. Someone will have to scrape your jaw from the floor. Stunned, you stare as Jimin’s sister takes another long sip of coffee.

Seeing your face, Jisoo steps closer. “You stopped talking in the group chat,” she explains softly, patting your arm. “And Jimin… well, he seems slightly better now, but we all saw how he was after the injury.”

“I don’t… we, we’re not,” you fumble, the words dying.

“It’s okay. I get why you didn’t want to tell us. Why he didn’t want to tell us.”

At this point, it’s too late to make any denial. Jisoo has already seen the truth in your face. You suppose the important part is she hasn’t told their parents – although part of you wonders if his mom knows, as well.

“It’s been a long year,” you admit finally, your voice cracking.

“Oh, Y/N.” Setting down her mug, Jisoo pulls you into her arms. “There, there,” she exhales, rubbing your back. “I’m sorry I brought that up. I just thought… well, I thought you might want to talk to someone not my brother.”

“Thanks,” you whisper.

Patting your arm, she pulls back. “So, do you? Want to talk?”

“I…” You trail off. “It’s complicated. We broke up last September, but Jimin asked if I’d help him break the news of his contract to your parents. Things have been different this weekend, but I don’t know if Jimin is on the same page as I am. I want to get back together, but… he’s the one who asked to break up.”

Jisoo’s eyes fill with sympathy. “You should talk to him.”

“I know,” you exhale. “I know, and I will. I just… I can’t stop thinking about the last time we had a serious conversation. How badly that went.”

Understanding crosses her face. “I get that, I do.”

“He seems different. But it’s only been three months. Jimin is playing hockey so well – he seems to have his shit together, and I’m just a mess. What if I want to get back together, and he says no? Maybe this whole thing – the holidays, the hot chocolate – was just a way to say goodbye.”

Jisoo’s gives you a look. “Y/N. Listen to me – I know my brother. I knew within two seconds that you’d broken up. And I’m equally certain he still loves you – partly because my husband is a terrible secret keeper.” She shakes her head. “Apparently, Jimin asked for Hoseok’s help to win you back.”

You blink. “That… that can’t possibly be –”

Footsteps clatter downstairs, and you both turn your heads.

“Y/N,” Jimin blurts, slipping a little. His sweatpants are only half on, hopping wildly to avoid Hana’s toy on the landing. “Thank god. I thought you left,” he admits, rushing forward to grab both your arms.

Jisoo pointedly clears her throat.

Jimin glances sideways, then does a double take. “Have you been there the whole time?”

Rolling her eyes, Jisoo grabs her coffee and turns. “Merry Christmas, Jimin. Go and make up with your girlfriend.”

He watches her leave, then shakes his head, and looks back. “Are you okay?” he breathes, scanning your frame. “I woke up and you were gone. I thought…”

Putting two and two together, your eyes widen. “You thought I left.”

Jimin seems a bit queasy, but he manages to nod.

Taking another step closer, you grip his elbows. “Jimin, no,” you say. “My suitcase was still there. Didn’t you see?”

“Oh.” He blinks. “I didn’t notice.”

Oddly enough, his panic gives you the courage to speak. “I wasn’t leaving. I just wanted a walk. You know… clear my head. Think about what happened last night.”

“Are you… having second thoughts?”

“Second thoughts?” you say in disbelief. “Jimin, we never discussed a first thought. You weren’t clear about what you wanted.”

“I wasn’t clear?” His brow furrows. “Y/N, I said I didn’t want anyone but you. That you were the only person for me. I apologized for September and said that I’m trying to change. What else could I have meant?”

Your heart hammers against your ribcage, but you push on. “I know,” you admit, voice catching. “It’s just… well, I thought I knew what you’d say in September, and I turned out to be wrong. I was scared, and I asked for a break, but you agreed.”

Sudden understanding dawns on his features. Jimin’s hands slide up your arms to cup your face, his gaze gentle.

“Y/N, no,” he murmurs. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have left. I just… didn’t want to hear what you were saying, which was that our relationship had problems. You wanted to fix those problems, and I ran away. I’m not running now, though.” Determination flickers in his gaze. “Y/N, I want to stay. Whether that’s as your boyfriend, fiancée, husband, or something else entirely – I don’t care. I just want you.”

Hearing him say this, your heart swells. Unbearable lightness spreads through you, and you take a step closer. Jimin pulls you against him, hands finding your back as he lowers his head.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” he murmurs. “I should have been clearer last night. I was, uh, a little distracted.” Jimin huffs out a laugh.

“I’m sorry you woke up and found me gone,” you whisper, tightening your grip. “I just… didn’t want to assume, and I was scared.”

Jimin shakes his head. “It’s not assuming, Y/N. I love you. I never stopped loving you. And I will never stop,” he adds. “So, you might as well get used to this.”

“I never stopped loving you, either. I –”

Jimin cuts you off, crushing your mouth to his. Bending at the knees, he lifts you over one shoulder and heads for the stairs. You yelp, smacking his shoulder but Jimin doesn’t stop.

“Jimin,” you laugh. “It’s Christmas! We should –”

“Celebrate our relationship at least once before everyone else gets up? Yes, agreed.”

Breath catching, you briskly nod. “Yes, yes. Good point. That.”

Laughter rumbles in his chest, carrying you down the hall and for the rest of the morning – until the twins bang on your door – you lose yourself in blissful certainty. Jimin is yours, and you’re his.

With no end in sight.

Seated beside you on the loveseat, Jimin plays with your fingers, entwined in his lap. With his other arm, Jimin brings you closer to brush a kiss to your temple.

Smiling, you face him. “What’re you doing, Mr. Park?” you lowly scold. “You do know we’re not alone, right?”

Jimin lowers his nose to your hair. “More’s the pity,” he murmurs.

Heat flushes through you, but he sits back in his seat. The Christmas Eve party this year is at the ski lodge again, and all of his friends have gathered in the same spot. Tonight though, you sit beside him with a ring on your finger. Jimin barely made it to the playoffs before he proposed.

Thumb brushing over the stone in the center, Jimin can’t help but smile. From far across the room comes the sound of Jungkook booing.

“We get it,” he calls, hands cupped over his mouth. “You two are disgustingly happy. Get a room, why don’t you?”

“We will,” you call back, snuggling into Jimin’s side. “Later.”

Seokjin laughs and elbows Jungkook’s ribs. “You’re only annoyed because you’re the only single guy left.”

Jungkook pouts and sits back. “True. What’s that all about? Why’d you have to bring a super cool, amazing date to the party this year?”

Seokjin’s date, Nova, laughs. “Thanks? I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“You should.” Jungkook nods, then faces you and Jimin. “But seriously, you two seem very happy and I’m glad for you both.”

Jimin blinks. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch.” Jungkook casually crosses his arms. “Your current level of happiness will make it all the sweeter when I kick your ass in the playoffs this year, Park.”

When you snort-laugh, Jimin gives you a look. Said look makes you squirm against him on the sofa, though no one else seems to notice.

“Yeah.” Drily, Jimin looks at Jungkook. “Because that worked out so well for you last year.”

“Ohhh,” Hoseok calls, entering the room with Jisoo on his arm. She’s noticeably pregnant, with a due date next month. “He got you there, Kook. Remember when you lost and now, you and Jimin are tied for Stanley Cup wins?”

Jungkook stares at him blankly. “Hm, no. Don’t recall.”

The entire room laughs, conversation shifting to topics other than the NHL. Squeezing Jimin’s thigh, you snuggle closer and rest your head on his shoulder.

“I am, though,” he murmurs.

You glance upward. “You are what?”

“Happy.” Jimin meets your gaze. “Happy you gave me a second chance. Happy to choose you, again and again.”

Breath hitching, your fingers tighten in his. “Easiest choice I’ve ever made.”

#bangtanarmynet #jimin fanfic #bts fanfic #jimin smut #bts smut #jimin fic #bts fic #jimin au #bts au

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kiachiako · 7 months

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september nct recs

my library of favorites from SEPTEMBER <3 all creds to authors

[ sorted by word count ]

series

[m] HAECHAN | settle down pt. 1 | pt. 2 | @hyuckmov — rockstar!hyuck, genre: angst, smut (18+ minors dni), fluff

oneshots

[m] MARK | sweet cream, cold brew | @lucyandthepen 26.4k — something about mark lee keeps you up at night, and you’re pretty sure that it isn’t the lingering smell of espresso on his shirt.

[m] MARK | my little doll | @haechansdoll 20k — Humans have hormones, you understand that much. But does that explain why you can't stop the filthy daydreams that fill your head whenever you see a specific redhead? Does it excuse you for getting turned on by him simply breathing in your direction? And to make matters worse, he is off-limits, if your father found out you were messing with his prized boxer? You would be chained to a tower and your red-haired crush would be used as mincemeat.

HAECHAN | one, two, three | @cherryeoniis 19k — In which you devise three different ways to get your best friend to fall in love with you, but things never really go quite as planned.

[m] JENO | summer hair = forever young | @setsugekka 18.1k — Only three weeks after being broken up with by your long time partner, you’re dragged along for your friends summer vacation plans despite your best attempts at staying home to do little more than feel sorry for yourself. Day one? Dinner and a movie. Day two? The bar down the street that smells like old socks. Day three? Well, that’s the waterpark, and the cute, blonde lifeguard that seems to make the lazy river his mainstay is a bit of a sight for sore eyes.

JAEMIN | written in ink | @cherryeoniis 15.3k — professor!jaemin, historical au (early 19th century), fluff, angst, strangers to lovers

[m] MARK | watch me | @sluttyten 14.6k — you pick up the voyeuristic habit of watching your neighbor that never closes his curtains and whose face you never see. on an unrelated note, you start dating the cute barista from down the street that also happens to live in the building across from yours. what could happen?

TAEIL | in earnest | @neonun-au 12k — a letter written in haste when you were fifteen and in love with your best friend gets sent out in the dawn of your engagement. when a reply is sent, revealing feelings you had long thought forgotten, you are left with a choice to make amidst a rather awkward visit.

[m] JENO | fight club | @tyonfs 11.9k — after park jisung introduces you to his shady after-school activity, you realize it’s far too dangerous to be involved with the underground fight club in any way. their members are rough around the edges—except for lee jeno, who keeps you coming back for more.

MARK | a series of white lies | @tyonfs 10.5k — in which it takes you six years to accept that you’re in love with mark lee. (it takes him one.)

HAECHAN | wicked games | @cherryeoniis 10.1k — angst, fluff, suggestive, university! au, friends with benefits, fuckboy! haechan

MARK | baseball (& other disasters) | @tqmies 10k — Everyone admired Mark Lee, starting pitcher of your school’s baseball team and famed ladies man. You, on the other hand, only know him as the boy who broke your dorm lobbies microwave the first time you met.

[m] JAEHYUN | dive | @yougotthatbilly 9.2k — frat boy!Jaehyun: Jaehyun calls shotgun.

[m] RENJUN | high-waisted shorts | @tyonfs 7.8k — huang renjun might be the least committed to all this “bitch hunting” bullshit, and he doesn’t want to stoop to the level of stupidity his friends are at. that’s why he’s pissed when you’re strutting around in those high waisted shorts wherever you go, making renjun lose all sense of reason.

[m] JAEMIN | blur | @jaeminvore 7.5k — Waking up to the sunlight blazing onto your face and hungover was one thing. Waking up to the sunlight blazing onto your face, hungover and in a bed that wasn’t your own in nothing but a pair of sweatpants that were obviously not yours, was another and a punishment specifically made for you—your own personal hell.

[m] JAEHYUN | racer | @smileysuh 6.7k — street racer!Jaehyun, star-crossed lovers, secret relationship, step-brother!Johnny

[m] HAECHAN | tattoos together | @cherryeoniis 5.4k — rockstar!haechan x reader

[m] DOYOUNG | hungry for you | @sluttyten 4.9k — doyoung is your best friend’s older brother, and you hate each other until one evening you’re alone together and the tension finally breaks

HAECHAN | dance to this | @cherryeoniis 3.8k — dancer! haechan x dancer! reader, university au, slight enemies to lovers

. . .

drowning in college rn :((

xoxo <3

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jaylver · 8 months

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CRAZY, STUPID, LOVE — P.SH

SYNOPSIS: Having a one night stand wasn’t your forte, but with the help of adrenaline, and most definitely not alcohol, you managed to rope yourself into one. Worst part of all was the fact that you didn’t even know his name! The only distinguishable part of him was his blinding white hair. You figured you will never see him again after, but you were so wrong. Your friend practically set you up for failure after convincing you to take her place on a blind date to try and drive the guy away, only for it to be the one you slept with, who also happened to be your mother’s best friend’s son that you met right before that.

PAIRINGS: ice hockey player!sunghoon x afab!reader

GENRE: strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance, comedy, slice of life, angst, (attempted) he fell first but she fell harder, slowburn-ish

WARNING(S): profanities, slight violence, suggestive content (no smut), drinking, partying, sunghoon being secretly obsessed (aka a loverboy), douchey football juyeon appearance

WC: 19k

AUTHOR NOTES: keeping my a/n short since i wrote a message at the end of the fic (please read it <3). thank you for the patience and for the love you gave throughout the series! i can't believe it has ended and i swear i'll be writing drabbles for this. enjoy this long fic as the last installment for the series. please leave feedbacks and reblogs are appreciated too! muah!!

part 4 of 'no competition' series | series masterlist | masterlist

THIS SHOULDN’T BE HAPPENING TO YOU NOW, BUT IT ACTUALLY WAS.

Never in a million years would you have expected yourself in some random guy’s bed, naked and a throbbing head reminding you of last night's mistake. Blacked out, you were too drunk to even remember making a callous decision in fucking a guy’s name you couldn’t even remember now. Wow.

How did you even manage to bring yourself into this situation? Well, a frat party might explain it. Letting Wonyoung and Yujin drag you to their favourite frat party was already the first mistake, but when you discovered good booze and consumed too much of it, you ended up wandering off and found a hot man, not turning back, instead you ventured into his bed. Horniness along with a pinch of alcohol could really cloud someone’s mind and awareness, unfortunately you could prove that fact since you were a victim of it.

It was currently 4 am and the man you fucked last night was dead asleep with his back facing to you while on the other hand, you were wide awake, swallowing whatever information you got from last night. You remembered him as a charming, flirty, funny white headed man who had a big dic—heart—excuse you, that was equally respectful and polite.

He was just as handsome, gorgeous and breathtaking as his personality. Bright eyes, pale skin that complimented his hair, a pair of dimples that had you swooning, and legs long enough to outshine a professional model. Hell, how was he not a model in the first place?

Whatever happened yesterday night stays in the depths of his bed. Period. Though you couldn't deny his … skills, and you wouldn't mind another night with him, yet something in you was rejecting the idea of seeing him again and determined to have him remain as a one night stand.

Frankly speaking, you didn't want to leave this bed of his at all. Was he a morning stay in bed cuddling type of person? You wouldn't know and you're scared to know. What if he kicks you out? You needed to save yourself the embarrassing walk of shame in the morning, so instead, you slowly slipped out of bed, making sure he was still sound asleep before scurrying out.

The clothes scattered on the floor were unsurprising. You picked up your undergarments and the skimpy black dress you wore, pulling it on quickly as if your life depended on it. You weren’t cold hearted enough to leave without saying nothing, that was too low. Taking the nearest piece of paper you could find, you wrote down a few words of farewell and thanked him for the night, cringing all while you wrote it. Gosh, this was shabby but it would have to do.

Rounding your things up, your handbag and phone in hand as you buckled your heels strap, you quietly and sneakily exited from his dorm room, thankfully no signs of his roommates were around. Now, the problem was walking back to your part of the dorms in the cold of the night. Exciting, wasn’t it?

The moment you got back, the dorm was silent and dark. Wonyoung was asleep in her room, but Yunjin was lying on the couch with her hair in a mess and you knew she was going to have the worst hangover in the morning. You crept past her sleeping figure and went into your own room, letting out a sigh of relief before dropping into the comforts of your bed. Never again.

“HE WAS GOOD WITH HIS HANDS?”

“Can you tone it down!”

Having breakfast the next morning in the campus’s cafeteria was probably a bad choice to give your two friends a recap. Yunjin was still in a daze, half invested, whereas Wonyoung was too invested, screaming at every detail.

“What’s his name?” Yunjin asked, taking a big gulp of her homemade hangover remedy.

“Well…”

“You forgot?” the two girls before you exclaimed in surprise and horror, the embarrassment made you sink further into your chair.

“It’s horrible, I know!” you buried your face into your hands pathetically, but whenever you closed your eyes, you thought of him, like he’s haunting you or something, which didn’t help you feel better.

“You weren’t even half as drunk as Yunjin, how could that happen?” Wonyoung said while Yunjin mumbled under her breath about not being that drunk.

“Gosh, I wonder too,” you jabbed at your plate of food disheartedly. “All I remembered was his silvery white hair,”

At the sound of his description, Wonyoung’s ears perked up, figuring the interesting part of your one night stand sounded oddly familiar, having a slight clue on who it was. But before she could actually piece everything together, your words interrupted her train of thoughts.

You were still lamenting about the possible love of your life. “I don’t think he even knows my name either,”

“Did you at least leave your name?”

“I left my initials if that helps …” you faltered when you saw the disappointed looks on your friends faces.

“I’m betting on Prince Charming to look for you.”

You didn’t think much of your one night stand after that, continuing on with your day and getting yourself busy. That’s when your mother suddenly called you up, thinking it was a normal phone call asking about you and your life recently, until she started talking about a house party that she wanted you to go to, hinting a ‘defined’ young man would be there for you. Sure, as if a hot man was just waiting for you that easily.

Nonetheless, you accepted the invite in order to avoid pissing her off and show some decent courtesy to her friend’s house party. Maybe, just maybe, it was going to be better than you expected. There was one thing your mother made sure to remind you constantly before the party: dress well. What she was hiding up her sleeve was something you wouldn't know until then. ‘Save me’ was written over your expression when you realised she had intentions hidden behind her sweet smile.

"You know Mrs Park's son is perfect, right? He'd be a great boyfriend!" Your mother swooned as you two walked hand in hand towards her friend, Mrs Park's house.

"Mum, can you stop setting me up with every one of your friend's sons," you groaned, pulling on the ends of your dress that you begrudgingly wore to appease your mother.

"Well, you're in college with a love life that's dead. I'm trying my best at playing cupid here,"

Fairs.

"Whatever," you waved her off dismissively, though knowing she was right.

Your love life was quite a mess. A jock ex that you still bump into on campus, a short lasting situationship with a douchey footballer, desperate times, and a short lived crush from your marketing lecture. Safe to say you were going nowhere and your mother was unfortunately correct.

Leading you to this point in life where you had to witness your mother trying to set you up with her friends' sons in the middle of a house party. All of which were ogling you but you were not reciprocating the same energy. They were nice guys, but did they catch your eyes? Not really.

The main host of the party, Mrs Park, soon appeared and welcomed everyone. When she approached you two, your mother made sure to pull you close, whispering into your ear. "Her son's a total catch,"

"What—?"

"I'm so glad to see you!" Mrs Park hugged your mother happily, all while you were slightly dazed and confused from your mother's words. Where was the 'total catch' anyway?

Mrs Park and your mother exchanged a few words and some gossip before her attention turned to you. "You're Y/N, right? I can't believe your mother took this long to bring you out!"

You laughed stiffly, eyeing your mother, not knowing what to say next. "I'm glad to have finally meet you now,"

"Me too," she patted your shoulder, and it was your mother's turn to speak, thank goodness.

"Where's your son?" your mother glanced over at you momentarily, a scheming smirk telling you she was planning something to get you close with Mrs Park’s son.

"Oh! He's upstairs. He'll be down sooner or later, don't worry,"

Your mother nodded, persisting on getting more information about him. “If I’m not wrong, I'm pretty sure Y/N goes to the same college as him,”

“Is it?” Mrs Park looked delighted, raising a brow in interest. “You’ll get along with him just fine.”

To say you were bored and uninterested was an understatement. Don’t get the wrong memo, the food was great and Mrs Park was an amazing, accommodating host, but the lack of company made you feel a little too lonely. Your mother was off with her group of friends somewhere upstairs, leaving you and the other people around your age to linger on the first floor. However, they somehow knew each other while you were completely unfamiliar with them. Talk about the feeling of missing out.

Drinking in the middle of the day would most likely disappoint your doctor if he knew, but you just couldn’t resist it since the bottle was practically there. You poured yourself some and took your cup outside, getting to take advantage of the quietness in the garden lounge and escaping the loud chatters inside. A sigh of relief escaped your lips once liquid courage hit and you leaned back, closing your eyes temporarily.

Maybe it was the effect of alcohol that’s making you think of him, but the image of the guy from the other night appeared in your head with no warning whatsoever. Real sudden and almost too unexpected. Was he lingering in your subconscious for too long? Had you secretly never let him go all this while? To be fair, he was too gorgeous to let go.

Your short lived peace and quietness was broken after you heard some shouts and cheers from inside. It sounded nearly like a concert or a celebrity’s appearance, but wouldn’t that be impossible? You turned your head around in curiosity, and your sight landed on a tall man that stood out among the bunch.

That hair … it was familiar, too familiar. His back was facing you and you couldn’t tell who it was, but something internally told you this wasn’t going to be a great time. He was greeting the people around, slowly but surely turning around, until his front was finally facing you. You swore you almost lost your grip on the cup just then.

Platinum white hair, a smile that showcased his charming dimples and sharp fangs-like teeth, long legs and great proportions. Mr one night stand.

It was as if the world was going against you at that moment. Just when you thought of him, he appeared. Did you actually manifest this man? It was too good to be true. You were probably hallucinating, right? The alcohol was messing with your brain. This was why you should stop drinking—

He met your eyes.

You cursed the glass panel’s existence. If only it was a solid wall, he wouldn’t have spotted you and realisation wouldn’t have set in his eyes.

Eyes widened, franticness filled your system. The panic set further in stone when you saw him excusing himself and approaching gradually, his long legs carrying him towards you.

You tried ducking, or finding a hiding spot nearby, but it was impossible for either of those options. Accepting your fate was all you could do as you heard the glass door slid open, his footsteps getting louder.

"You alright?"

Hell no.

You glanced up, flushed from embarrassment. Clearing your throat and regaining your posture as you slowly stood up, avoiding his stare. "I'm … fine,"

"Were you trying to hide?"

"I—no—I was tying my shoelaces,"

"You're wearing heels,"

You looked down at your feet, then back at the man before you.

"That's—uh—nothing—"

"You are hiding from me,"

"From you? Don't get ahead of yourself," you scoffed, trying to mask your panic.

"Okay then," he let out an amused chuckle, earning an annoyed eye roll from you. "I know we both probably don't want to talk about that night—"

"Right," you mumbled, accidentally cutting him off briefly.

"So, I was wondering if we could start afresh? We were both drunk and have almost no memory of that night. Plus, you seem cool and I really, really want to get to know you better,"

"Even if it mean we fucked?"

"Even if it mean we fucked," he repeated, shrugging slightly. "People fuck and stay friends all the time,"

"Are you sure?"

He made a face. "Kinda?" He extended his hand out, a meaningful spark in his eyes. "I'm Sunghoon,"

"Sunghoon," you echoed his name, thinking how much he fitted his image. Tall blond Sunghoon, who was a sweet guy out on the streets but a freak in the sheets, got it. "I'm—"

"There you are!"

For once, you were thankful your mother had blocked a man's advancements.

"Mom?"

"Mrs L/N?"

She had a look of satisfaction, eyeing you with a cheshire grin.

"I see you two have met?"

You exchanged an awkward glance with Sunghoon, cringing slightly. Well, you did more than just meet.

"My daughter's a sweet girl, I heard you two are in the same college together, why not—"

"Mom!" You hissed, stopping her before she ended up digging a deeper grave for you. No way was she setting you and him up there and then.

"What?" She replied, oblivious. "Anyway, that's besides the point why I came. We'll be leaving already, I have an emergency to attend and it's honestly a headache. I had a lovely time, Sunghoon, extend my further thanks to your mother, will you?"

Sunghoon nodded and gave your mother a hug with a sweet smile, acting like a perfect gentleman and almost sucking up to her as if he wasn't just asking you to beg him a few nights back.

Before you could fully turn around and follow your mother out, you felt a hand on your shoulder. It was him.

"I'll see you around?"

Disappointment was evident in his voice, his smile now pulled into a slight frown.

"See you around, Hoonie."

Hoonie. That definitely didn't miss Sunghoon's ears, watching your figure getting further away from him and by then, he knew he needed you.

But first, he needed to get you to not run away from him … again.

“HE’S THAT GUY!”

“What guy?”

Another round of Sunghoon discourse was shared after your fateful encounter with him. Yunjin and Chaewon were gasping the moment his name left your lips, but you were the only confused one there.

“Hockey!”

“Hockey guy?” you were still oblivious, the other two seemingly done with you.

“Hockey player! He’s in the hockey team,”

One blink. Two blinks. Your campus hockey team. You hooked up with a hockey jock? Scratch that, he was probably a hockey frat boy instead. It was common knowledge that the hockey team fucked around often. Despite keeping their ground and being good athletes, they still had a reputation of partying and hooking up.

“What?” You sputtered out, horror in your eyes. “He's on the hockey team? The same one that has Lee Heeseung, Park Jong Seong and Choi Jiung?”

“Yes, Y/N, we only have one hockey team on the campus,”

“Touche,”

“That's another athlete you hooked up with,” Yunjin nudged you teasingly, but Chaewon, on the other hand, was shaking her head in disapproval.

“Don’t encourage her, Jen. Not to be a killjoy, but girl, the hockey team has a bad name to them in terms of relationships,” Chaewon grimaced. “I don’t know much about Sunghoon but the things I’ve heard were not the best,”

“They are much more tame compared to the rest though. He has better decorum,” Yunjin chimed in, but that didn’t reassure you at all.

“Look, Y/N, we’re not stopping you from talking to him if you think he’s alright. But as your friends, we don’t want you heartbroken. Keep yourself alert and keep your heart at bay,”

“You’ve already let him in some other places—” You smacked Yunjin’s shoulder as she let out a cackle before it slowly died down and she continued, “but you know, you shouldn’t let him into your heart until you feel like it’s time,”

Chaewon nodded in agreement. “He’s still an athlete after all, not to mention, a popular star player of the team

“I mean, look at Juyeon,” At the mention of his name, thanks to Yunjin, you only shuddered at the thought of the douchey athlete before Sunghoon, Juyeon, a known footballer all over campus for the wrong reasons.

“God, don't bring Juyeon up, those were dark times,” Desperation and loneliness wasn’t a good combination to look at.

Chaewon patted your shoulders. “It sure was. But hey, maybe Sunghoon could change that stereotype. You have him now, who knows what’s in store for you two,”

“We barely talked. He's going to forget about me in a few days, trust me,”

Yunjin and Chaewon exchanged doubtful glances that went unnoticed by you, especially when you were distracted by a frantic Wonyoung running over to your table. She wasn't just frantic, she seemed like a mess.

“What's up with you?” You pushed the chair back for her to fall into, opening a bottle of water.

“It's my parents again,” she groaned, fixing her hair aggressively. "Setting me up on blind dates and all that,"

"Again?" The three of you exclaimed in unison. It wasn't the first time that this had happened to Wonyoung, but it still surprised you everytime.

"Yeah," she spat, gulping water down. "They set me up with two guys but I've only been talking to one of them, I don't know about the other guy and I don't want to two time these people,"

"Why did they set up two guys this time?"

"I wonder too," she glanced between the three of you, swallowing deeply with a certain guilt in her eyes. "Which is why I wanted to ask—well, it's going to sound crazy—can one of you take my place?"

"What?"

Yunjin, Chaewon and you stared back at Wonyoung as if she had gone utterly insane. Maybe because she has. Her words didn't seem real and it only made the three of you burst out laughing, Wonyoung unimpressed at your unseriousness.

"Guys, I'm serious,"

Chaewon slowly calmed down from her high. "I'm not free for a date now, Wonnie, you know that. I'm busy with projects,"

Yunjin eventually collected herself too, but couldn't resist laughing in between. "I have to train for my next opera stage too,"

It was their turn to stare at you now, the decision falling into your hands.

"Why are you guys looking at me like that?" You said nervously.

"Y/N," Wonyoung batted her eyelashes innocently at you, tugging at your hand.

"You're not serious, right?"

"I am," Wonyoung flashed you one of her sweet, charming smiles. "Come on, it's just one date, free food and possibly good company,"

"What if he's not a good company and a creep? What will I get for emotional compensation? Actually, what do I even get from this whole thing?"

Wonyoung considered it for a while. "A whole year's supply of food either way. Just go on this date and I'll pay for your food the whole year, deal?"

"No way," Yunjin blinked in surprise. Hell, you were surprised too. Being a broke, struggling college student, Wonyoung truly had a way to corner you. There's no way you couldn't say no to this.

"Deal,"

Wonyoung's smile grew wider. "All you need to do is pretend to be me, then try and chase him away,"

"What if he doesn't go away and is charmed?"

"Have fun. Maybe something good will come out of this."

"Doubt it."

IT WAS NOT SURPRISING THAT YOU WERE STARTING TO GET SECOND THOUGHTS ABOUT THE DATE.

Wonyoung had the details and address sent to you, even paying for your dress and dinner. Now all was left for you to actually show up to the fancy restaurant and not blow your cover.

Agreeing to taking your friend's place and pretending to be her was already a big risk. To think you were doing this was surreal, maybe this could be some new experience to laugh about in the future. But at that moment, you were not laughing, far from it.

"Got your keys?" Yunjin yelled from the next room as you gathered your last few items and sanity.

"I did!"

"What about your pepper spray? Wallet? Phone—?"

"I'll be fine!" You shouted back, chuckling slightly at Yunjin's usual demeanour.

"Call us! Text us and give us updates, 'kay?"

"I will, don't worry," you called out your goodbyes before fully exiting your dorm room, mustering the bits of courage left in you all while you walked to your car, getting ready to drive to your misery.

A range of thoughts ran through your head from the carpark to the restaurant. Was he nice? Was he going to be douche? What if he was a serial killer—don’t overthink it—maybe he was a nice guy. You were affirming that it was about to be a chill night, a great date, but something internally did eat you up.

Upon arriving at the address Wonyoung sent you, you had to do a double take to make sure you hadn’t stopped at the wrong place. The restaurant was a fine dining place, chandeliers hung high on the ceiling, classical music playing in the background. It almost looked like it had come fresh out of a movie scene.

The server led you to your assigned table, heaving a breath of relief when you saw the empty seats. Your date wasn’t here yet and you had time to gather yourself. Fantastic!

Would it be too late for the regret to settle in? The menu you had on hand was wide open and shielding your face, having an internal battle with yourself behind it. From a third perspective, you might’ve actually looked insane, but honestly, you could care less. By then, you couldn't tell if you were starting to shiver from nerves or from the backless dress Yunjin picked. You knew it would make you cold eventually.

The rambles in your mind had distracted you completely from the noises of someone moving about before you, still unaware until you heard a cough. “Hello?”

Wait a minute. That voice.

“Hi?” you responded meekly, testing out the waters.

“Uh—can you—the menu—” he laughed awkwardly, sounding helpless. Poor guy.

The more he talked, the more your familiarity increased. It then clicked. That voice … it belonged to your one night stand, Sunghoon. The same guy your mother was pushing to be your future partner, also the one who spent the night with you. He was here, flesh and bones, on a date that was supposed to be with your best friend in the first place.

“Hey, I just want to get this done, I know our parents set this up and you probably give zero fucks about me but the dinner’s paid, so can’t we just try enjoying tonight—”

The menu in your hands was lowered, revealing your face and meeting his brown irises in an instant. You could tell the changes in his expressions as he gradually registered everything. Shock turned into confusion before it melted into amusement. He was amused?

“I don’t take it that you’re Wonyoung, right?” Sunghoon blinked, a small smirk pulled at the corner of his lips.

You, on the other hand, was more frazzled compared to him. Panicking and lowkey not knowing what you should do. “I could leave if you want?”

“God no, stay. Stay with me,” he assured, his hands gesturing a little too wildly. "I don't mind,"

"Really?" You swallowed, quite unconvinced. "This is so stupid. Wonyoung convinced me to do this since she's busy, I hope you're not disappointed," you winced, cringing slightly at yourself.

"I'm far from disappointed, actually. I didn't want to be here initially, my parents set it up without my knowledge—" a sour look on his face towards the mention of his parents' actions, "---but now that I know it's you, I feel a lot better,"

Something about the softness of his gaze and the sincerity of his words made you become increasingly interested. Maybe him and this whole date wouldn't be as bad as you thought.

"You're Y/N, right?" He said with uncertainty, eyebrows raised in expectation.

You tilted your head, confused. You never give him your name, weird, how did he even know? Sunghoon seemed to sense that you were freaked out, because you really were taken aback, and he immediately panicked. “I–that probably rubbed off wrongly since you didn’t tell me your name after and I couldn’t remember it that night either, but you left your initials by my bedside, remember?”

He saw you nodding slowly, taking it as a clear sign to continue on. “Sounds insane but after that night, I actually asked around the campus with only your initials, trying to find you and figure out who you were. I know this sounds weird and totally invasive—”

Oh, he totally didn’t forget you in those few days like you’ve said before. It was the opposite. He went around trying to find you just with your initials? You were not ready to be down bad.

“No, it’s fine, really,” your eyebrows flew further up your forehead. You should be weirded out, but you weren’t. Actions spoke louder than words, and this was a prime example of it. You never had a man pursue you this intensely, even making an effort to try searching for your name alone. “It’s cute,”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I don’t think a man I’ve ever dated even did something like this for me before,” you giggled a little, noticing the flustered flush on his face, despite trying to remain a tough front. “How did you succeed in the end anyway?”

“Yunjin, was it? Your friend?”

You smiled slightly and resisted rolling your eyes at the mention of your best friend’s name. Of course it would be her that told him your name. “Right, that’s her,”

“She saw me practising one day in the arena and somehow recognised me, then she called me ‘white hair boy’ and asked if I was looking for you,” Sunghoon explained, earning a small laugh from you when you listened closely to him. “I swear I didn’t know it was going to be you today though, or that day at my house. I got your number from Yunjin and wanted to text you, but I suppose there were turn of events,”

“Funny how life works, huh?”

“Honestly, I’m glad it was you.”

The dinner eventually started and over the course of dishes, you and Sunghoon shared things about yourselves to each other, just trying to know more about one another and you swore you only fell deeper into the hole. He was passionate when it came to music, hockey, skating and his engineering course. Man, he was absolutely a charm that you couldn’t escape.

The accidental brushes throughout didn’t go unnoticed by you either. Whether it was him passing the napkins to you or just resting your hands too close to each other, you could feel his feather-like brush grazing against your skin. At times, his legs would make contact with yours, and you were aware that he was also aware.

The night was filled with harmless touches and knowing glances at each other. Once you were done dining, he offered to take you home and walk you. How could you say no to that?

"Have you ever gone to one of those hockey games on campus?" He suddenly asked on the way back to your place.

You shook your head. "Nope,"

"Would you like to come to the next game?" Sunghoon looked over at you for a moment before returning his gaze back to the road.

"I'd love to," you answered without thinking. You were already weak for him, and there's no way out. "Will you be playing?"

"Maybe," he shrugged, a teasing smile etched on his face that you could make out in the dim glow.

He parked his car by the road, walking you to your apartment with you. The sounds of your combined footsteps filled the air, the occasional light brushes against shoulders kept you buzzing internally.

"I had a great time tonight," you said out of the blue, earning his attention. "You know, I thought I'll regret pretending to be Wonyoung and expected a scary douchey guy to be my date, but I'm really happy to see that it was you,"

"I thought you'd run away," he laughed, referencing the time you hid from him and most likely the night after where you left in the middle of the night.

"That was the last time," you nudged him, and couldn't resist a smile either. "I swear I won't run from you again,"

"Really?"

"Really," you affirmed, casting him a glance.

Upon arriving at your doorstep, you turned to Sunghoon. "Thank you for tonight,"

“Thank you too, I enjoyed myself with you,” Sunghoon had his hands slipped in his pockets, his dyed hair complimenting his features, you couldn't take your eyes completely off him, resisting the urge to start giggling.

“Me too,” your eyes never left his, and neither did his. “Goodnight, Hoonie,”

Hoonie. There it was again, catching Sunghoon by surprise, a good kind of surprise.

He smiled. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“NEVER WILL I HAVE PREDICTED Y/N HOOKING UP WITH A HOCKEY PLAYER AND GOING TO ONE OF HIS GAMES AFTER,”

You brought Yunjin and Wonyoung along for the game, which you might’ve slowly regretted once you got to the arena. After telling them about the date, they were convinced you and Sunghoon were fated. Wonyoung even called herself ‘cupid’ and Yunjin credited herself for telling him your name. All you did was nod at their words, unable to deny that he had been in your mind.

“It is destiny,” Wonyoung cooed.

“Sure sure,” you waved them off dismissively, setting your eyes on the ice while the other two exchanged brief looks.

It was a while before the players of both teams filed out onto the ice, the arena bursting in cheers of support and you found yourself absentmindedly searching for Sunghoon.

You saw him looking around as well. His eyes were squinted when he glanced up onto the stands, then it stopped when his gaze landed on you. You were the one he was finding for in the midst of the crowd.

Sunghoon waved almost too enthusiastically with the energy of a puppy, a toothy grin stretched wide and face lighting up, eyes shining. Gosh, he was so cute, how could you resist him? Spoiler alert, you couldn't.

You didn't even realise you were reciprocating his big smile, waving back with equal energy and kicking your feet slightly. Whereas Wonyoung and Yunjin sat beside you, staring at the sight before them and knew what was up. You were hooked. But were they going to tell you that? No. You were going to work through this denial yourself unfortunately.

"What's with those looks?" You turned to them after Sunghoon skated away to his position. They shrugged.

"Well, someone seems interested," Yunjin raised her eyebrows.

"She's going to say 'no'," Wonyoung whispered over to Yunjin just in time for you to utter the exact word.

"No," you slipped out before shutting your mouth, rolling your eyes at the realisation. "We'll see,"

"She said 'we'll see', we're slowly moving to the light and out of denial,"

You nudged Yunjin, laughing softly. "Maybe,"

The match started off quite intensely, neither of the two teams wanted to back down or give way, instead only attacking harder. A few goals were scored before the third period arrived and the arena was alive with thrill.

Sunghoon was practically flying around, guiding the puck along and assisting his teammates, even achieving some assists himself. When the third period started, the teams only got fiercer, all eyes were on them.

That's when Jay skated past the oppositions and passed the puck to Sunghoon's end of his hockey stick, having the star player take control of the play now. Everyone was practically on their feet, the time ticking as Sunghoon worked his way through the defenders.

One hit of the stick and a swerve of his body, the puck landed into the net of the goalpost. Fans of the home team erupted in cheers, you three included, basking in the victory. Sunghoon's name showed up on the jumbotron, a loud blast of his name filled the arena and music played.

All while that was happening, Sunghoon searched for your figure again, making sure you were still there even when his teammates literally swarmed him. He never took his eyes off of you, and you knew that. You definitely didn't miss his wandering gaze throughout the game.

The game eventually came to an end. People were soon leaving the stands and you were ready to follow, but your best friends stopped you with a certain look on their faces.

"Are you not going to find him?" Yunjin had her arms crossed.

"After all that?" Hands on hips, Wonyoung stared accusatory.

"I am," you assured, smiling at their demeanour. "He did text me beforehand saying how he wanted to meet me after the game,"

"You guys text?" Yunjin wiggled her eyebrows in interest.

"You're acting like we're living in the eighteen hundreds,"

"You know exactly what I mean,"

Wonyoung wrapped her arms around your shoulder. "We'll wait for you outside, call us when you're done with lover boy,"

"He is so not lover boy—"

"And you're so totally going to take that back one day,"

Yunjin's words did linger with you even after leaving them momentarily to find Sunghoon. The secret promise you had with yourself about not dating athletes or jocks was being threatened now, and you didn't like the thought of that. It wasn't your fault for being traumatised by them.

Somehow, something in you was keen to give Sunghoon a chance, and he was only winning your heart so far.

"Y/N!"

You didn't realise how caught up you were with your thoughts until you heard footsteps and your name being called out. Sunghoon was jogging towards you, still in his hockey gear, silvery white hair glistening with sweat. You're being totally normal about this. Not.

"Hey!" You accepted his awkward side hug, him not wanting to get his sweat on you and you not knowing how to dodge his sweat. In the end, you two made it work somehow.

"You came," Sunghoon said breathlessly, as if he couldn't believe it, shining eyes staring back at you.

"Why wouldn't I?"

Sunghoon shook his head lightly, waving his hand dismissively. "Nah, it's just sometimes people don't really care about me playing hockey when I invited them to come watch, so I assumed—yeah—and it sucks honestly,"

You tilted your head in confusion, frowning. "But hockey's practically your rock! Why would they not support you for this?"

Sunghoon shrugged with a sad smile. "Guess some people don't care,"

"They don't care enough,"

"But you do,"

Something about the way he looked at you during then had your heart beating wildly. His gaze ever so gentle and caring, his attention on you as if you were the only person that mattered. Everything in his eyes conveys its message wordlessly.

"Of course I do," your words came out in a whisper, the tension between you and him increasing till the point where you felt suffocated.

"The playoffs are soon, I'd really love to see your face in the crowd," Sunghoon fidgeted with the ends of his sleeve, shyly avoiding your stare.

"And I would totally love to see you play. Have I told you how good you were just now?"

Sunghoon laughed, looking highly amused. "Really? Stop, I'm about to blush,"

Noticing Sunghoon's playful side did warm your heart. You wondered how he was the more you got to know him. What was he like? What does he like and hate? He continued to keep you curious and wanting to know more.

"I'm serious. You were really good,"

You could tell he was pleased, smiling a little too hard. "Thank you. It means a lot coming from you,"

"Sunghoon!"

You two turned around at the sound of his name, a tall lanky boy in the same hockey gear jogged towards where you were standing. If your memory didn't fail you, that person would be Heeseung, the captain of the team.

"Hey, the team's waiting, we have to discuss something," Heeseung nodded to a few guys waiting by the door, all of whom were staring in interest. It was then when Heeseung noticed your presence, acknowledging you with an awkward smile. "Sorry for taking him away,"

"It's fine," you reassured him. "I'll go first. I really enjoyed the game, text me, okay? See you, Hoonie!"

Everything happened too fast for Sunghoon to process entirely. By the time he waved and called out a 'bye', you were already a distance away. Yet, you made sure to turn around and wave goodbye to him one last time before disappearing past a corner. He was whipped.

"'Hoonie', huh?" Heeseung threw an arm around him, thoroughly humoured.

"Oh, shut it,"

"Hoonie!" The guys waiting called out teasingly, further agitating their vice captain who grumpily stalked past them.

If there's one thing Sunghoon hated, it was people calling him 'Hoonie', but when it came to you, he could make an exception, and he certainly wouldn't mind hearing you say it a million times.

"ARE YOU SURE THIS IS A GOOD IDEA?"

Wonyoung and Yunjin were party goers. You? Not so much.

Upon hearing the infamous campus jocks were hosting a party at their frat house, almost everyone got to their feet at once, your friends included. You weren't exactly complaining either, the frat house was huge, like ginormous. But a part of you still remained cautious.

"I mean, yeah?" Yunjin had her arm looped around yours, Wonyoung around her other arm, the three of you making your way to the house.

"Why? What's up?" Wonyoung asked, sounding concerned.

You waved it off, shaking your head. "It's nothing. Maybe I'm overthinking but there's just a feeling poking at me,"

"Is it the 'ex tingle'?"

"I hope not,"

The ex tingle was something you and your best friends discovered, it was something stupid yet strangely accurate. Honestly, it might sound ridiculous, but to you three, it was far from ridiculous. Once, you got a weird unexplainable gut feeling at a party and guess what? Your ex showed up. The other time, Yunjin had the same feeling and her ex rounded the corner, followed by Wonyoung bumping into her ex at a cafe.

From then on, it would continue happening here and there. Once would be a coincidence, but considering it was more than once, you figured it was a connection telepathically.

"It's a jock party. As much as I don't want to pray for your downfall accidentally, one of them might be there," Wonyoung frowned, speaking the cold hard truth. Truthfully, you were numb to the sight of your ex, having to see them once in a while at a random party and them being somewhat well known, it was hard to avoid them.

“We'll be your ‘ex tingle’ for the night, Y/N,” Yunjin smiled comfortingly at you, cracking some random jokes and telling you two about the craziest stories on the way there, certainly getting your mind off everything. You were ready to take on the night. Maybe not until the point where you find yourself in someone’s bed.

The whole picture of drunk college students and randos making out by the pool already had you questioning your decisions when you got there. From your observations, the hockey players and footballers were here, joined with some other jocks too. Before you could form a conscious thought, Yunjin pulled you towards the kitchen where they had a makeshift bar, poured you a glass of some strong concoction she probably made.

With one last gulp and a few words of affirmation to update one another, you parted ways with them and ventured into the deeper parts of the house alone, hoping you wouldn't end up regretting that decision. The music reverberated throughout the house, some were with their friends but many had partners accompanying, which totally did not make you feel slightly out of place.

The corridors were littered with people and you had to squeeze your way through. Among the many heads blocking your view, your eyes caught a particular bright one, white shining hair. Just when you thought you were getting excited to see a familiar face, the feeling was short-lived after you saw a girl by his side. You knew you shouldn't be disappointed. Consciously speaking you tried convincing yourself it was nothing, but when it came to your heart, it feels like you were punched in the guts.

They were close to each other, whispering and laughing. Then it occurred to you, maybe you were just like her. Another girl he gets and leaves, moving on without any committed feelings. It was probably a bad idea getting involved with another athlete, wasn't it?

Having a midlife crisis while being half drunk wasn't the best idea for the night. The relationship trauma you hadn’t fully healed from simply haunted you, but what you didn’t expect next was the literal physical embodiment of said trauma reappearing before you. The jock ex who happened to break your heart into pieces was leaning against a doorframe, making out with some girl.

That’s a double killer for the night. Where was Yunjin’s ‘ex tingle’ anyway?

Maybe choosing to go home and blast some Taylor Swift or Olivia Rodrigo songs would be a better healing option. But instead, you decided to choose a different type of peace by managing your way through the bodies of college students, towards a balcony you didn't even realise until then.

Luck was fortunately on your side. The balcony was empty and unoccupied. There were small chairs for you to sit and spend the night doing nothing, plus the weather was perfect enough to sit out. That was it, you were going to have your alone time and sober up, hopefully not letting the idea of jumping down tempt you.

Staring into space and sitting uncomfortably on one of the small chairs has somehow caught someone's attention. You heard the glass door to the balcony open behind you, but you didn't really react until a second later, looking up just to see the person you were hoping to see. Sunghoon.

"Why're you all alone out here?" He carefully sat on the unoccupied seat next to you, testing the waters whether he could scoot closer, and you let him. He inched closer without you realising, shoulders pressed against each other now.

"Just wanted to get out of there, it's stuffy," you shrugged, scrunching your nose a little. “Plus, I saw my ex too, what an eyesore,”

“Screw him,”

“Wow,” you stared at him, a hand on your chest, feigning shock. “You’re taking my side despite not knowing my ex,”

“Well, I believe you would do no wrong, it’s definitely him that’s the problem,”

“You’re not wrong, but you also have too much trust in me, Park,”

“Maybe, but that’s because I like you,”

You froze. Literally. Eyes wide and mouth agape. You swore you felt everything around you stop as well. Did he just—? There’s no way he said that, right?

There was a beat of silence before Sunghoon burst out laughing softly at your reaction, the cheesiest grin on his face. “What’s with that look?”

“I’m shocked,”

“That I like you?”

“Yes, but also the fact that you’ve said it so confidently,”

“Well, I’m confident in stating facts,” he shrugged nonchalantly, leaning in closer. “Do you like me?”

“Maybe,” you dragged out your syllables, getting flustered under the intensity of his gaze. Truthfully, you would be screaming ‘yes’ at once. But you know better, especially when Wonyoung’s first rule of flirting was to play hard to get, yet, there’s no promise in how long you’d last. “Wait, but aren’t you here with someone tonight?”

“Me?” he pointed at himself, seemingly confused. “I came here with Heeseung, that's all,” he said, but then, a certain realisation hit him and his expression morphed, a playful smile pulled at the corners of his lips. “Did you perhaps see me with someone?” Was he some kind of mindreader?

“What—” you sputtered, getting busted and instantly flustered.

“I saw you in the corridor just now before you rushed away, I didn’t think you saw me either,” he explained, searching for your escaping gaze as you were increasingly getting embarrassed. “That was Heeseung’s girlfriend, nothing more,”

“Oh,” Were you glad? Yes. But were you also embarrassed? Yes

“Just wanted to make it clear. Plus, I have nothing to hide from you, Y/N. I know you probably heard … things about the hockey team, and I can’t completely defend some of my teammates' behaviour, but you know, not all of us are like that,” he shrugged, gaze turning softer the moment it met yours. “I don’t just start something I don’t want. I make it clear if I want someone,”

His words were sincere, eyes never leaving yours as he said them. You both knew what you wanted there and then: each other.

“I want your trust, even if it means that I have to gain it, I will,” he continued, close to you till the point where you could feel heat radiating off him.

“I trust you, Hoonie, I do,” you whispered, and maybe it was the fact that you both were intoxicated, but shame was nonexistent. Sunghoon was speaking his mind, and you were letting your thoughts be known as well. “I do feel the same as you, I want you,”

You could tell your words had their effects on Sunghoon. His hands were balled up in a fist, trying to keep his composure with all his might, jaw clenched and breathing shallow. “As crude as I sound right now, I would love to fuck you again, but let me bring you out on a date first, please,”

You rolled your eyes at his shamelessness, showing the effects of the alcohol in his bloodstream. Even so, you couldn’t really deny his offer either, but were you going to say that? Nope. “You’re such a gentleman, Hoonie,” you snickered, nudging him lightly. “I'd love to go on a date with you,”

"You would?"

You nodded. "I wanna try this out,"

"Me too," he brushed the back of his hand against your cheek softly, gentle eyes staring back at you. "I won't let you down, pretty girl."

“DO YOU THINK WE’RE MOVING TOO FAST?”

“You literally fucked before you even fully knew each others’ name. Trust me, I don't think so,”

You rolled your eyes at Yunjin's words, though it was mostly true. It was the weekend and Sunghoon stuck to his words like the gentleman he was, sending you a vague message: 'wear something comfortable'. Whatever that meant.

Yunjin was there the whole time trying to give you some bit of mental support as you got ready. All until she had to let you go when it was time to meet up with Sunghoon.

He was waiting for you a few floors down your dorm room, and you unknowingly sped up your steps to get to him quicker. The moment you laid your eyes on his figure, you practically bounded towards him.

"Hoonie!"

Sunghoon instantly glanced up, recognizing your voice at once. The corners of his lips turned upwards, gaze softening and arms reaching out for you. "Hey,"

"Hi," you greeted back, accepting his hand and letting his fingers intertwined with yours.

"You look great," he complimented, even though you were in a simple outfit as per his request. It was the little things that got you.

"Thank you," you took the chance to scan his attire, one that was matching the same simplicity as yours. A white polo paired with dark blue jeans, rocking a minimalistic aesthetic. In conclusion, you want him … badly.

"What do you have in mind?" You asked as he guided you to the location of his car, even making the effort of opening the door for you.

"Grab dinner and then bring you to my favourite place," he smiled simply.

"Your favourite place?" You wondered aloud, your curiosity making him smile wider.

"You'll see,"

Sunghoon brought you to a nice restaurant, one where he secretly made a whole reservation and booked a private area all without your knowledge. It was almost like that night where you had the unofficial date with him, except this time, things seemed different. In the short span of time, something between you and him brewed, and it was obviously lingering in the air.

The dinner was filled with laughter and getting to know a new side of Sunghoon. The man who seemed cold and mighty at first glance, star player of the hockey team, was actually just a softie at heart. He shared about his pet dog back at home, favourite movies and songs, random facts about himself that surprised you too much.

He was also a jokester that popped too many puns and dad jokes, but surprisingly, you couldn't get tired by it. Even when you talked and shared things about yourself, Sunghoon was all ears and maintained eye contact throughout, and you couldn't lie, at one point, you felt yourself under his gaze.

That dinner lasted for almost two hours, but ultimately felt too short. Now it was finally time for the thing you've waited the whole night for: Sunghoon's mysterious favourite place.

All while Sunghoon drove, you got the chance to play your favourite songs on the radio, lip syncing to them, unaware of the dreamy look Sunghoon casted over at you once in a while, the cheesiest grin on his face.

Sunghoon's car soon came to a stop, then he led you out and towards the place you anticipated. Your curiosity and interest only increased as you neared, until Sunghoon pushed open the door and switched the lights on, your mouth opened wide in shock.

You were in a skating rink, an empty one. How did Sunghoon manage to pull this one out? You had no idea.

"You didn't steal the keys or break in, right?"

Sunghoon rolled his eyes at your remarks, a look of amusement on his face staring back at you. "Surprisingly, no. I used to work here, and I got my friend who still works here to sneak the keys to me," he dangled the keys in his hand. "So, this is going to be a tiny secret between me, my friend and you, deal?"

You mimicked zipping your lips shut, excitement evident in your beaming features. "Deal,"

He flashed a smile at your gesture, not just any smile, but the sweetest one. The same one that reached his eyes, presenting you crescent moon-like shapes, gaze filled with endearment. Maybe because he did find you endearing.

"Come on, I promise I won't let you fall," he reached for your hand, pulling you close and you followed him wordlessly, letting him take the lead once more.

He picked out the skates of your size, knowing the place better, and soon came running back to your waiting figure on the bench. You were about to take them from him, but before you could, he was already on his knees.

"I'll help you," he said softly, and the moment you saw the genuinity in his eyes, you couldn't say 'no'.

"You worked here before? What did you do here?" You struck up a conversation as he helped the skates onto your feet, tying them up one after the other.

"Summer job. You know I can never leave the rink," he snickered under his breath. "Took up the job to coach the youths and beginners for hockey. It was humbling to say the least,"

"How so?" It was no lie you couldn't get your eyes off of the top of his head. His silver locks shined even brighter under the lights, the soft sheen of it enticed you to touch it. But that wasn't it, you just wished he could look up at that moment.

"Kids are a difficult bunch to deal with. They're either angels or devils, no in between,"

"Word. I did babysitting before and it was something I never want to do ever again," you recalled back to your own summer job during your teen years. 'Horrible' was all you could use to summarise it. "I would've loved seeing a hockey coach you though,"

Look up. Look up. Look up!

"Really?" With a final pull to the laces, he glanced up, brown irises locked with yours. He was close, and gosh, you were holding back every fibre of your body to not jump into his hold.

"It would've been cute," technically, you meant him. The sight of Sunghoon with kids was something you wished to witness.

He laughed, shaking his head lightly. "You amuse me, L/N,"

You shrugged. "What can I say? I have that charm. Now, are you going to take me skating or what?"

Sunghoon laughed at your bluntness, took your hand and walked towards the rink. There was no lie that you were actually scared to get onto the ice, being heavily inexperienced and having bad balance, that was a bad combo to have. You could trust Sunghoon … right?

"You're scared," his hold on you tightened the moment you stepped onto the ice, legs wobbly and hands grabbing frantically at him. "I got you,"

"I don't think I've got this in me,"

"You're giving up already?"

"Not giving up, just … doubtful,"

"We're changing that mindset today," he sounded too determined that it had you slightly taken aback. Your hold on him remained tight as he led you further into the middle, telling you what you should and shouldn’t do.

You couldn’t stop staring at him, even when he was running through the basics with you, all you could focus on was him. The passion in his voice was hard to miss, his expressions scrunched up in concentration as he looked at you taking baby steps. Soon, you were able to skate a distance away from him on your own, it was a miracle that you couldn’t believe yourself.

“You’re getting a hang at this. Didn’t know you were such a quick learner,” he whistled as he skated towards you, a smile gracing his face.

“Had a good teacher, that’s all,” you manoeuvred awkwardly until you were in front of him, catching onto his arm instinctively.

His hands reached out for you as well, his touch light and gentle, matching the softness in his gaze that stared back at you. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, or what his eyes were expressing, but all you knew was the air between you and him carried an unspeakable tension that you were both aware of. Something in you wished for him to pull you in closer, and maybe … just maybe, he heard your thoughts.

You let out a gasp when you felt his hold on you tightened and he tugged you in after, narrowly losing your balance but managed to keep yourself steady when your hands landed on his shoulder. Eyes wide, mind frazzled as you stared up at him, meeting his playful gaze and cheeky smirk.

You narrowed your eyes at him, though your expressions couldn’t hide your true feelings. “What was that for?”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “Wanted you close,”

He can’t just say that and expect you to not go crazy.

Two can play at that game.

“You could’ve just said that,” your hold on his shoulder travelled slowly down to his arms until his hand which you took and placed on your waist, moving slightly closer to him, all while you maintained an unbothered front as he slowly crumbled.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he grunted out, eyes flickering, gaze lingering on your lips occasionally.

You could only laugh quietly, removing yourself from him and skating away, his touch on your skin still burning. He skated alongside you, twisting and turning around, showing you his hidden skills until it became a chasing game out of the blue. You were skating after him, your movements still lacklustre, but what you didn’t notice was Sunghoon already stopping in front of you, yet you couldn’t find the right momentum to slow down. Oh no.

Inevitably, you crashed into his body right at that moment when he turned around, his arms wrapping around your waist without thinking. Off you two went falling onto the ice where Sunghoon landed on his back with a small thud while you fell on top of him.

“Oh God, I’m sorry, are you okay?” your words came out rushed, trying to push yourself up but the slippery ice only made you more clumsy. “Are you injured? Would this affect your performance when you play? You’ve got a game soon—”

“Sweetheart,” Sunghoon sighed, his head slightly raised. “I’m fine, don’t worry,” he casted you a reassuring smile. “So does this mean you’ve fallen for me?”

He was too unserious.

“Shut up. I know your back's hurting.”

“IT'S GETTING SERIOUS,”

“It's so definitely is,”

Another night, another party with the girls. It wasn't surprising in any way, moreover, it would be more surprising if they didn't go out partying.

You told them about the date, spilling what was needed to be split as per usual. But somehow, the discussion managed to last for over a few days, them still gushing and cheering you two on, already creating delusional scenarios.

"We're taking it slow, okay?"

It was indeed baby steps. A few dates and constant texting, you felt the rush and butterflies that you haven't experienced in a long while.

"Well faster up, this ship needs to sail," Wonyoung said in frustration, being in the frontline of the Y/N and Sunghoon ship.

"It will," Yunjin whispered affirmatively to Wonyoung, while you just brushed it off with a quick roll of the eyes. "He's here tonight too," she nudged you, trying to get a reaction from you, to which you just shrugged casually, but realistically, you were feeling the opposite internally.

“I’m getting an ex tingle,” Wonyoung said, her eyes trained on somebody from a distance away.

“Who?” you tried following her gaze, searching for the person in the crowd.

“Sunghoon's ex,” Wonyoung said with a certain distaste in her tone. “Gosh, I remember her. We used to be classmates back then, and she was the biggest fake I’ve ever met. We had a lecture together once when she was still dating him and you couldn’t believe the amount of times she was talking about him and saying how she’s dating a star player, it was insufferable,”

You and Yunjin exchanged a look that practically screamed ‘yikes’ before Wonyoung continued. “She’s Olivia Lee, by the way, bad reputation to her name. I wonder why they even dated in the first place, from what I heard, the relationship only lasted a month,”

“You’re kidding,”

“I wish I was,”

“No way my ex is here too, I see him over there,” Yunjin groaned, momentarily switching the subject, earning both you and Wonyoung’s attention and diverted them to her ex. You forgot about Sunghoon’s ex and him in general as you and your friends shared crazy stories over a lousy cup of beer.

The night went on without seeing a single sight of Sunghoon, but that didn’t bother you at all. A couple cups of beer and some shots had you tipsy enough to stay in one corner while your friends went off dancing with guys from the frat. There you were, eyes threatening to shut and energy on low, you could really use a mattress right there and then.

A stream of shouts and whoops welcomed whoever that was walking through the front door, which resulted in successfully capturing your attention and waking you up temporarily. ‘You’re late’ was complained by the host to the guys that were surrounded by too many people for you to distinguish. It was all too noisy and messy in the room, so you decided to take a quick run to the kitchen for a refill.

The last you expected when coming out from the kitchen with your cup full was a white haired hockey player standing across the room, his eyes wandering around and searching through the crowd, until it landed on you. The one he was looking for, the one he could recognise even in a room full of people.

His face lit up, trying to make his way to you and having to mutter awkward ‘excuse me’s, never breaking eye contact throughout his bee-line towards you. The moment he successfully got to you, he didn’t even say a word before wrapping an arm around you, pulling you in for a hug.

“Hello,” you whispered in his ear as he rocked the both of you side to side.

“Hey, I’ve missed you—” Okay, that had your heart exploding. “I’m sorry for not being able to hang out much, I’ve been busy with practices. Coach has been on our asses,” he sighed when he slowly pulled away, smiling sadly.

“I get it, it’s fine,” you patted his shoulder in assurance. “We still text anyway, but hey, you didn’t tell me you’d be coming tonight,”

“I wasn’t going to, Heeseung and Jay dragged me here,” he nodded to the direction where both his best friends were, currently chugging down alcohol as if they were dying of thirst. “Which was a bad idea,” he murmured, and you knew what he was talking about.

“Forget about them,” you poked at his shoulder, eyebrows raised. “Just enjoy the night, what could possibly go wrong?”

Apparently, everything.

Sunghoon got roped away soon after by his best friends and you were pulled away by your own as well. It was all chill until you saw Sunghoon in a corner, his back facing you and the flailing of his hands were enough to tell that he was agitated. Your eyes averted to the right, and there she was, his ex.

A sinking feeling grew in your stomach. The sight before you wasn’t even a good sign between them, there was nothing to worry about, but you just couldn’t help worrying for Sunghoon. Maybe because you were too focused on them, and the universe wanted you to worry for yourself instead, because just then, someone bumped into you, causing you to spill your drink.

“Hey! What the hell?” you hissed, flicking away the substance on your hand before turning to look at who the person was. Oh, he wasn’t just any person. It was Juyeon, aka, Mr Ex-Fuckbuddy from the football team.

“Bro—Y/N?” realisation dawned in both of your eyes, then it turned to equal annoyance. Last you remembered, things didn’t exactly go well at the end.

“Hey…” you faltered, not knowing whether to make the dash or to stay.

“Haven’t seen you in awhile, how have you been?”

Was he seriously pulling the ‘how are you’ bullshit question?

“I’m doing amazing, sparkling and dazzling,”

Juyeon’s eyebrows were scrunched in a bunch, a look of doubt painted on his expressions. “Really? I didn’t think anyone else besides me would fuck better,”

You sharply inhaled. He was a douche, you knew that, but to have the audacity to be a cocky, annoying one was surely ticking you off.

You scoffed. “Oh trust me, my last fuck was great, out of the world even,”

“I doubt that, who was it?”

“Why would I tell you? Why are you acting like those nosy asses out there, gosh,”

He suddenly got a hold of your wrist, tugging you roughly and hurting you with his tight grip. “I know we’re done, but we could always call me up,”

“What? Let go of me!” you tried pulling your hand, but his grip was strong, and you were so close to yelling out, having a crisis internally and regretting letting your friends wander off.

“She said let go, asshole,” unexpectedly, Sunghoon’s gruff voice travelled into your ears. Before you knew it, he was standing right behind you, hand grabbing on Juyeon’s, an unrecognisable look on his face, one that was enough to have Juyeon to let go.

“I’m guessing you’re the one she’s fucking,”

“What?” both you and Sunghoon exclaimed in disbelief. To be fair, he wasn’t completely wrong though.

“Don’t play dumb, jackass. How good are you—”

You couldn’t stand it anymore, interjecting him. “Can you shut up? This has nothing to do with you. We weren’t even together,”

“I sure can fuck better than him—”

What shocked you the most that night after a series of interesting events happened to be when Sunghoon landed a punch on Juyeon’s face. A gasp escaped you and so did everyone around. The people in the room slowed down what they were doing and had their attention on the two instead. For fuck’s sake, you weren’t about to be those typical cliches or Wattpad scenes where you stopped them both. But were you going to let them beat each other up? Hell no.

It took a moment before Juyeon composed himself and threw a punch back at Sunghoon, who only recovered quickly and reciprocated the punch. This wasn’t going to end well. Unfortunately, you didn’t know his friends enough to have their numbers, and all you could do was escape the crowd to locate them.

Finding them didn’t take long when they themselves had heard the commotion. You swore a headache was expecting you since you weren’t even fully sober enough for all this and the weight of everything around you was overwhelming. The feeling of watching both Heeseung and Jay pull Sunghoon out was complicated. You rushed over to check up on him, and everything eventually passed in a blur until you soon found yourself in his car.

It was inevitably silent and stuffy in the car. What happened before this felt like a haze. Sunghoon didn’t even bother cleaning up and left straight away, leaving everyone dumbfounded, including you. Yet, you couldn’t bear to let him leave like that, not when he was hurt. So, you did what you needed to do and followed him.

He knew you were behind him, he just didn’t dare to look you in the eyes after the stunt he pulled. When you both reached his car, he turned around, mustering his calmest expression.

“Let’s go,” he said softly and quietly before reaching over to the car door to open it for you.

Now here you were, not knowing what to say. You couldn’t tell the thoughts going through his brain at that moment. How was he feeling? Was that wound on his lips hurting?

“Hoonie, you know Juyeon is a douche, right? He acts like that to get on your nerves and it didn’t help that he was drunk too. Don’t let him get to you,”

A sigh left Sunghoon’s lips, his grip on the steering wheel absentmindedly tightened. “I know, I just couldn’t believe it. The way he was speaking to you, how he acted and treated you—it made me mad, and the thing is, I don’t know why I’m feeling like this,”

“Like what?”

He seemed as if he wanted to say something he had been holding in for a long time, mouth agape and was ready to spill, but alas, he didn’t have the guts to do so, to tell you how he felt, his true feelings. He shook his head, lips pressed in a thin line. “It’s nothing, I've probably had a long night,” he mumbled, which you found odd, but you figured it wasn’t the right time to press on anyway.

“Plus, I can’t believe you’d let an asshole like that fuck you,” he grumbled with a sour look on his face, frowning deeply and eyebrows etched together.

You let out a laugh, finding his reaction too amusing. “You’re jealous?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged, smiling a little.

“Those were desperate times, okay?” you said dismissively, even though most parts of it were true. “He doesn’t fuck better than you though, that’s for sure,” you mumbled under your breath, hoping he didn’t catch what you’ve just said, but judging from the cheshire grin, you figured he did.

Despite the sneaky remark from you, he was surprisingly silent, which gave you an opening opportunity to strike. There was another thing you were curious about and itching to know, the influence of alcohol simply not stopping you from blabbering anyway. “I saw you with your ex just now,”

At first, Sunghoon looked surprised that you'd brought it up, then he let out a barely audible sigh, lips flattened into a thin line as he ran a hand through his hair. "Just like you, I was bombarded by a drunk ex. I don't know what her problem was but she was having some one sided beef there. We didn't really end on good terms but I've moved on,"

He clicked his tongue, pausing for a moment. "Desperate times, you know?" He playfully quoted you, a knowing smile dawned on his face.

"And we're both moving past it,"

Sunghoon merely nodded, the smile remained on his lips. Slowly but surely, the tension diffused too, and you told Sunghoon some crazy party stories as a way to entertain yourself throughout the ride back to the dorm.

Walking back, Sunghoon had an arm around your waist, keeping you balanced as you tried to not stumble in your steps. “My dorm’s a little far from here, I think it’s at the other end? I don’t want to inconvenient you further so maybe I can go back myself—”

“Y/N, I’m not letting you walk to your dorm in the dead of the night when you’re not fully sober,” Sunghoon persisted, his hold tightening. “Just stay over at mine. I don’t think the guys will be back anyway, they’re probably going to pass out over there,”

“Really?”

“Really,”

Sunghoon’s dorm room was exactly how you'd remembered it from that night. Slightly messy but still clean enough for it to not be a biohazard. The doors to their rooms had their names on it with tiny doodles as a decoration. Hockey sticks and gears littered the area, a whiteboard in the middle of the room with drawn out tactics that you found interesting.

“Nice … whiteboard you have over there,” you nodded at the big object overtaking their living room area, chuckling slightly.

“Easily the best Friday night game to have,” he smiled, helping you with your purse and giving you his hand when you took your shoes off. “I’ll get you some clothes to change into, you can sleep in my bed,”

“What about you?”

“I’ll sleep in the other room,”

You opened your mouth to refute, but nothing came out. Instead, you turned your attention to something else. “Hey—uh—your wounds, they’re not cleaned, aren’t they?”

Sunghoon halted in his steps, turning around smoothly to reveal his busted lips and a small bruise forming around his eye. He shook his head. You gestured for him to come closer, sighing a little.

“I suppose you do have a safety kit around here, don’t you?”

“Bathroom,”

It didn’t take you long enough to rummage through the cupboard in his bathroom to find the red safety kit, taking it along with you out to the room where he sat on his bed waiting.

“I’m a little embarrassed, you know?” he said all of a sudden, with you applying the gel on his lips and him having to resist the pain, wincing once in a while.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’ve seen worse,”

“Me getting busted up in games is normal, but getting beaten up by some lousy footballer is a new low I never expected,”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head slightly. Truth be told, you were ignoring how close you were to him at that moment. He had his legs spread open, you standing in between, his hands resting comfortably by his sides on the bed. Honestly, it took you everything not to go insane.

“I just didn’t want it to be in front of you,”

“Why?” you said slowly, pressing the ice bag on his bruise now.

“There’s something called ‘saving face’,” he chuckled, hands making contact with yours atop the ice bag, eventually reluctantly having to remove yours from it.

“Well, Park, I’m always ready to witness a new side of you,”

Sunghoon let out a laugh of amusement, head tilted to the side with a small grin. “You haven’t seen the singer side of me yet. We need to go karaoke one day,”

“Writing that down later,”

“You should be sleeping instead, sweets, it’s late,” he straightened up, poking your arm gently. “Talk tomorrow?”

You nodded, unable to push down the feeling of disappointment that you had to go to bed already. “Don’t leave the ice bag melting in your room!” you called out as he exited, him only responding with a dismissive wave.

Was it bad that as you changed in his room and got ready for bed, you secretly craved his presence? It probably was. Your promise to yourself about keeping your heart safe was gradually breaking. Something about him just made you open your heart easier, as if he was just too easy to love. Even when you tucked yourself into the familiar sheets of his, you thought of him. The bed felt lighter unlike the last time you were here.

Time was passing but you seemed to be awake, wondering what the girls were up to after seeing their last messages, pondering if you should get out of bed for a cup of water. Your internal monologue got interrupted once you heard the door creak, heavy footsteps filled the room before you felt a dip in the bed.

You turned around, opening your eyes in an instant, meeting Sunghoon’s tired ones in the dim glow from the night light. “Hoonie?”

He turned frantic and sat up, probably not expecting you to be awake. “Sorry. I–I can leave if you want to,”

You shook your head, patting the spot next to you. “Stay. It’s fine,”

“You sure?”

“I am. This isn’t our first anyway,” you tucked yourself in, watching Sunghoon’s careful movements as he made himself comfortable. “I’m guessing you can’t sleep because it wasn’t your bed, huh?”

“Bingo,” he yawned out. “What about you? I didn’t think you’d be awake now,”

You shrugged, reaching over to sweep the loose strands away from his face. It might’ve been a small gesture, but at that moment, Sunghoon froze. “I don’t know, I just couldn’t sleep,”

“What were you thinking about?”

“You’d want to know?”

He considered for a second, then shook his head softly, his gentle smile gracing his features, one that shone even in the dark. “I’ll keep myself curious. Let’s talk in the morning or else we’ll be some sleep deprived zombies. Night, Y/N,”

“Night, Hoonie.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to close your eyes after he had done so. It didn’t fully occur to you that you were barely inches away from him, the close proximity had your skin grazing against each other. You wanted to reach over and trace the moles on his face, to count each of his breaths and heartbeat, but you held yourself back, merely basking in his presence until you slowly drifted off to sleep yourself.

Truthfully, it had been him that occupied your thoughts. You were thinking about him. He was solely the reason you couldn’t sleep.

Park Sunghoon. What were you doing to me?

"YOU'RE COMING BACK, RIGHT?"

Holiday season was coming soon and break was approaching. You were packing some clothes for your short stay back home until your phone rang, noticing it was your mother who'd called.

"I am," you said, glancing around the floor that happened to be a mess of clothes. "Aren't you happy I'm coming home this year?"

"Of course I am," she exclaimed. "But you know what's exciting too?"

"What?"

"Mrs Park and her family are coming over for dinner during the holidays!"

Oh. My. God.

"Huh?"

"Mrs Park? You've met her!"

"Since when were you buddies with her?" You abandoned your packing, now standing up with your hand on your hips.

"Since you were gone, hello? Can't I make some friends?"

"That's not what I meant,"

"Well, she's nice and we have a lot of things in common. Plus, aren't you friends with her son?"

"Uh—" 'friends' was maybe not the most suitable word to describe your relationship with him.

"Whatever it is, get close to him. You know how charming he is—"

"I get it, mum, not setting me up with someone for a day won't kill you,"

"You being single will kill me eventually," she grumbled on the other end, but you decided to wave it off. "Anyway, come back as early as you can, I need help, okay?"

"I will,"

"Bring your friend over too since she's dropping you off. Jennifer, was it?"

"She's the one,"

"I'll pack her some food. Bye."

"Bye," you ended the call with an exasperated sigh, falling into bed and kicking your clothes away.

How were you to survive the holidays when Sunghoon was coming over?

You weren't.

The days leading up to it were long and it didn’t help that it was. When the time came, you still hadn’t gotten a proper grip of yourself to face him either. You couldn’t even explain the reason you felt nervous seeing him. Was it because you haven’t seen him in person for a while? His text messages were nothing but excitement about seeing you again, and you couldn’t lie, it made your heart flip.

Your efforts to make yourself more presentable definitely didn’t go to waste. The moment Sunghoon entered the comforts of your home, his eyes never left yours and your figure. Neither could yours. He was dressed formally, a suit paired with a black tie, hair combed neatly. He knew he had an effect on you and he sure was utilising it well. However, you were affecting him in the same way.

After your mother’s over enthusiastic welcome and overflowing compliments to Sunghoon, you and him were finally left alone. Your mother made sure to give you a knowing glance before leaving, which totally screamed, ‘go get your man’ and you knew she was not backing down.

“Hey, pretty lady,” he whispered to you, greeting you in the absence of each other’s parents who wandered off to the dining area, leaving you two by the door. “You look amazing tonight,”

“Thank you, kind sir,” your hands travelled up to his tie. “You’re very handsome too,” you’ve never seen him in a suit before, and you were very much eating up every part of it now.

“Thank you,” he said, a sense of tenderness in his gaze and voice. “How was your holiday? How’s it going?”

“Nothing much. I’ve done some shopping and lazed around, that’s all,” it was true, being back home, you wanted to do nothing and eventually submitted to staying in bed or calling the girls once in a while. “You?”

“Trained a little—force of habit—played games, watched movies, and even helped Jay plan a date,”

“Seriously?”

He laughed a little, but nodded in response, the dimples on his face making you swoon secretly. There was a pause between you and him, but then you spoke up, unintentionally slipping out your inner thoughts to him.

“Can I be honest?”

“Yeah,” he responded without a doubt.

“I missed you,”

Sunghoon most likely didn’t expect the words that poured from your lips. Hell, he seemed to be in disbelief that you actually said it. Although his cheeks didn’t flush red, the tips of his ears did give it away, turning scarlet by the next second. He let out a cough, trying to mask his reaction.

“I missed you too,”

If you could explode now, you would. The corners of your lips were twitching, eventually stretching into a smile, a feeling of giddiness that you haven’t felt in a long time bubbled internally. Sunghoon’s nose crinkled with a wide smile, his eyes filled with a type of affection that no one else could mirror.

“Guys, let’s eat!”

It was time for dinner, but you simply wanted to stay by the door with Sunghoon. He waited for you to join his side first before leaving, hands instinctively reaching for yours but then again, it was a dinner with your family around, the two of you had to be more lowkey, so all he could was retract his hand. But when he pulled the chair for you, he made sure to slyly place his hand on your waist, eliciting a small gasp and narrowed gaze from you.

Cunning bastard.

Throughout the dinner, Sunghoon didn’t hide how obvious his attention was on you. At all. The occasional glance from Sunghoon was something you didn’t miss, neither was his laughter that filled your ears or his attentiveness whenever you talked. The exchange of brief smiles and knees coming in contact from time to time had your mind on a shutdown, you couldn’t get him off your mind.

When it was time for dessert, your families shifted to the living room area to talk over glasses of wine, once again leaving you two together. There was nowhere else you could be alone with Sunghoon other than your room, so you made the most sane decision by dragging him there, hoping your parents wouldn’t think you’re up to something unright.

“I didn’t strike you as a rock fan,” he glanced around your room, specifically at the posters of rock bands that you kept up since you were fourteen.

“Me too,” you joked, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. “It was a phase I had years back,”

“Emo rocker teen phase?”

“I guess you can say that,” you patted the empty spot next to you, hoping he’d come and join you. “I don’t have games to entertain you here though,”

“Haha,” he said flatly and sarcastically, accepting your silent offer and joined your side, feeling the slight dip of your bed.

“You know, you’re the first guy I welcomed into my room,”

“I am?”

You nodded, shifting awkwardly from the short length of your dress that continuously hiked up. “I don’t really know what to do,”

“You don’t need to, we can just do nothing,” he reassured, bumping your shoulder softly. “We can talk if you want to?”

“I’d love to,” you smiled, not expecting a different kind of intimacy, maybe the best kind even. “Will it be weird to ask if we can lie down?”

“Not at all, sweets,”

Sunghoon happily obliged your request, stripping his suit blazer off, then making sure to take his shoes out before he lied down and got comfortable in those sheets of yours. You, however, could call yourself a mastermind. Not knowing your simple request could somehow let you witness Sunghoon in his white button up and black tie paired with his dishevelled silver hair, you created a new kind of girl dinner for yourself.

You hid your gaze and lied down next to him, feeling the warmth emitting from his body and his cologne entering your senses. It didn’t take long for you to regret your choices and surrender to the fact that you were not God’s strongest soldier.

“How’s hockey going?” you broke the ice (pun intended) first, turning your head a little to sneak a peek of him.

“It’s alright, I suppose?” you felt him shrugging beside you, shoulders brushing against yours for the millionth time. At this point, he should just hold your hand, and you’re also going to pretend you never thought of what you just said. “There was this crazy time a few games back where Heeseung fought someone. I wasn’t surprise that he did since he tends to pull this type of shit but wow,”

You let out a scoff in disbelief and surprise. The sweet looking captain was a hothead on ice? You couldn’t believe that. “What for?”

“Someone talked shit about his now girlfriend, which was totally reasonable for him to punch the guy honestly,”

“It is! Go him,” you said in awe, reaching over to poke his cheek, which obviously startled him before he relaxed into your touch. “Tell me more hockey stories, there’s probably lots of drama, right?”

“Where do I begin?”

Time passed too fast with the way Sunghoon told his stories and you hated the fact that it did. All of the stories he told were extra entertaining when he flailed his hands around dramatically, making sound effects and even acting them out, increasing your adoration for him unknowingly. He was just so cute. But then again, fun didn’t last long when it reached the end of the night and the Park family was ready to leave for home.

You were bidding his parents goodbye before you reached him, standing by the door the same as earlier, having the same emotions and mirroring the same smiles. Secretly, you didn’t want him to leave. What you didn’t know was neither did he, he wished to have you laughing next to him again.

“Thanks for having me tonight,” he said, suit blazer held in one hand. “And especially for your room tour, I loved those posters,”

You couldn’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes at him. “I’m glad you were here tonight,”

Somehow, in your words, it spoke much more than it had been said. The emotions conveyed from it was just enough for him to know, to realise.

“I’m glad you were with me too.”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU SAW SUNGHOON PARTYING WITH A GIRL?”

You swore a blood vessel was about to burst on a Saturday morning.

“I was sober, alright? And if you guys were with me yesterday, you would’ve known,” Yunjin took a sip out of her specially made hangover cure, wincing for a second.

“You know we’re not falling for that,” Wonyoung bit back, leaning in with a questioning look. “Now spill,”

“I saw him yesterday at the party with this girl, got pretty handsy and really close, I’m not sure if they kissed or anything,”

“What happened after?” you asked out of curiosity, slowly losing the war of not giving a fuck.

“I don’t know, didn’t see them,”

Wonyoung gasped under her breath, raising her eyebrows. “That bitch,”

Yunjin shrugged, finishing the last of her drink. “Well, it’s not the best to write him off that quick,”

“I mean, we’re not even dating, he can do whatever he wants,”

“Don’t pull that card here please,” Yunjin had her hand up, both her and Wonyoung staring at you like hawks. “You can’t pretend you two don’t have the hots for each other,”

“Well, you’re not wrong,”

“We know, love,” Wonyoung’s smile turned sinister, a plan already up her sleeve, an idea brewing in that head of hers. “Which is why, you should go on a date,”

“What?”

“Oh my god, spite him,” Yunjin jumped on Wonyoung’s idea almost immediately. “Go text him you’re getting ready for a date or something, make him jealous,”

“He’ll come running, trust me,” Wonyoung clapped her hands, already scheming up a master plan. “I have a candidate in mind, he’s a friend of mine,”

You and Yunjin looked at Wonyoung expectantly, her smile turning into a smirk. “A player from a rival team. Eric Sohn.”

If there was something Yunjin and Wonyoung excelled at, it was being masterminds. You couldn't believe you got yourself roped into this plan of theirs, but maybe you just needed a small push, and so did Sunghoon.

First step: tell him about your date plans.

hooners: you're going on a date?

you: yeah :// wonyoung set me up with this guy

hooners: i seee, where are you having it?

you: at the place nearby, Atelier I think?

hooners: ooo, have fun!

'Have fun' was definitely typed with zero genuinity, which also meant your plan was working.

“He's taking the bait. Now, onto the date,”

Eric was a nice guy. You didn't know what Wonyoung managed to bribe him with but surprisingly, he was willing to go out on a date, except he didn't know it was a plan to make his hockey rival jealous. Awkward.

The next step that Wonyoung claimed would be helpful was taking pictures to post on your Instagram after. A picture on your story would be enough to spur him and get him texting you back, or so she claimed.

Eric was in the middle of telling you about his course and his random hockey stories when he paused out of nowhere. His gaze averted over your head to somewhere else, an eyebrow raised in question.

“I—uhm—Y/N, is that someone you know? He won’t stop staring,”

You turned your head around, following Eric's gaze only to find Sunghoon looking back at you.

This wasn't part of the plan.

He cocked an eyebrow, a smirk greeted you. Both of his friends Jay and Heeseung were accompanying him too, but unlike him, they seemed clueless to the fact that you were there.

You stiffly turned back to face Eric, nodding slowly. “It's … complicated, don't mind him or his friends. How's your pasta?”

It would've been easy to ignore Sunghoon if only he wasn't staring at you from time to time and you could feel his burning gaze. He was purposely making this hard for you and you were pissed that the plan was somehow backfiring. So, while Eric was taking his toilet break, you took the chance to text Sunghoon, typing rather angrily.

you: what are you doing here?

hooners: out for dinner with the boys

you: HERE?

hooners: what’s wrong with this place? is the food bad?

He’s got to be kidding.

you: you know what i mean

you: i’m going to strangle you!!!!

hooners: yeah? what else?

You glanced up from your phone, whipping your head to the table he was sitting at, scoffing in disbelief. Trying to continue the last hours of your date was about to be a challenge for you and you were going to be a fighter even if it meant you were crumbling internally.

Ignoring the obvious presence in the room was hard, but despite that, you managed to end your date successfully. You were mentally clapping yourself on the back and cheering happily. Eric, being the sweet gentleman he was, offered to drive you back, but you declined, instead, bidding him goodbye with a friendly hug.

You watched as he drove off, finally being left alone outside the restaurant’s parking lot, or so you thought.

“That was something,”

Park. Sunghoon.

“Mind explaining why you came here crashing my date?”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘crashing’,”

“Really?” you stared accusingly at him, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

Sunghoon coughed, adjusted his posture and put on a serious expression. “Well, that’s b–because I wanted to check up on you in case—I don’t know—something goes wrong. I know when someone’s an asshole and I don’t want you dating an asshole,”

“Thanks? He was actually such a sweetheart,”

You didn’t miss the way Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “Why’re you out on a date anyway?”

“It just happened,” you shrugged, playing nonchalant even though you were feeling the opposite of that. “Why were you getting handsy with a girl yesterday?”

Sunghoon blinked, then again before realisation dawned on him. “Are you jealous?”

“Are you jealous?”

“I am. Now, don’t try changing the subject,”

For a moment, his straightforwardness caught you off guard and made you pause. His bluntness was something you’d always be surprised of. You kissed your teeth, heaving a breath in. “Fine, I am. I know you don’t owe me anything since we’re not official or whatever, but I didn’t expect you out there dancing with another girl … I thought I meant something to you,”

“You do! You mean more than just something to me, Y/N,” Sunghoon bursted out, his desperate eyes searching for yours. “Gods, I got drunk yesterday and I admit, we danced a little too … close, but after that I tried brushing her off before it escalated. I left before anything else happened, which meant nothing happened at all, seriously,”

Were you feeling stupid? Very much so. But were you somewhat glad? You were. Misunderstandings were going to be the death of you always.

“I’d never lie to you, Y/N, never in a million years” he continued on, stepping closer to test the waters. You gave him the greenlight.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed out as you felt him engulfing you in a hug, melting into his touch. “I can’t believe I’m overreacting,”

“You’re not. I would’ve reacted the same, except I wouldn’t have the balls to tell you,” he rubbed your back in comfort and reassurance, your embarrassment soon dissipated and you laughed quietly at what he said.

“Just like today?”

“Kinda?” He was still stubborn enough to not admit it.

You slowly pulled away, but his hands were still around your waist, holding you close to him. “I trust you, Hoonie. I’m sorry I doubted you for a second,”

“You’re okay, Y/N, really. I know I’ve still yet to fully gain your trust and I get it. You’ve gotten hurt in the past, I know, but I promise I won’t do the same. You have to let me into your heart just as much as I do,”

“Oh Hoonie,” you said softly, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him back into a hug, both of your hearts fluttering without each other’s knowledge. “I promise I will.”

At that point, you’ve unknowingly already given up your heart to the man before you, surrendering to him. Because you, too, were willing to give up anything for him, just the same as he felt.

“SO, YOU’RE TELLING ME YOU HAVEN’T SEEN SUNGHOON IN A WHILE?”

Being back home when your parents were away on vacation was a relaxing time for you. Spring break came sooner than you expected. Not only did you get the place to yourself, but also the car for you to drive yourself in and out at any time now that you’re home. It was heavenly.

Wonyoung stopped by for a visit to keep you company, and you expected some chill time together by painting nails, watching movies, singing karaoke, but no, instead, she started digging Sunghoon related information from you. What was her objective? To get to the bottom of why you and Sunghoon weren’t making any advancements, especially in recent weeks of no updates.

“I’ve been busy, he’s been busy, so I guess that’s why,” you mumbled, not realising how disappointing it was until you’ve said it out loud. The text messages he sent were getting less, the times you’ve met up weren’t much. You were pushing these feelings and thoughts down without knowing, finally revealing them now when Wonyoung brought it up. “I feel like he’s avoiding me, actually,”

“What makes you think that?”

“We always have dinner together every Friday, or we try to eat together at least once a week, but lately, he’s been saying that he’s busy. Then, the other time I saw him, he just waved and dashed away, that’s all. We’ve been texting but it felt less than usual,”

“Oh, Y/N,” Wonyoung wrapped her arms around you, pulling you in. “Maybe he’s going through something. I say, give it a little more time, and if it’s still like this, go confront him. There’s nothing better than communication and talking it out,”

“You’re right, maybe I just find him soon,”

“But first, you need some self healing. Come on, let’s watch some movies and put on facial masks,”

Dusk soon fell upon the skies and you ended the day off with another classic 2000s movie playing in the background. Wonyoung was busy showering while you lounge comfortably on the couch, unaware of what’s happening miles away until you heard your phone buzzing with continuous notifications.

jay: Y/N!!! are you here tonight?

you: JAY!!! and where is ‘here’ supposed to be?

jay: the arena duhhh, there’s a game tonight, but it ended already

jay: we won btw ;)

you: really? i wasn’t told of it :(( but yayy! congrats!

jay: thank you! and huh? i thought hoon would’ve told you

you: he didn’t …

jay: speaking of hoon, the thing is … he’s been acting strange all game and idk what’s up with him

you: ?

jay: it’s weird. he’s been very aggressive tonight and that’s so unlike him. he’s not the type to be like this

jay: did something happen between you two? he’s been a little off lately

you: i don’t know too jay, that’s the problem i’ve been facing too

Jay's messages kept circling your mind endlessly even after Wonyoung left and you were ready to call it a night. It wasn't a coincidence that even Sunghoon's best friend found his behaviour odd, something must've been wrong.

You were in bed, snugged in your blankets, phone in one hand scrolling through your Instagram feed, but you couldn't stop the feeling that itched you. Rather than going to sleep, you couldn't help pressing into the messaging app, silently hoping for a notification to pop up from someone.

Sighing deeply, you gave up your last piece of hope and decided to ignore the distress you were feeling. Turning around and calling it a night, you didn't expect your wishes to be heard right at that moment.

Ding.

It came from your phone.

In a blink of an eye, you got up immediately and let the bright light of your phone disorient your eyes.

hooners: are you up?

hooners: i'm outside right now

Outside? Where?

hooners: your house btw

No way.

You scrambled out of bed, almost tripping in your steps and raced to your window looking like a crazed person. There he was, Park Sunghoon, flesh and bones, anxiously waiting by his car and taking peeks at your window, not noticing you.

In those years of living in your house, you've never run down the stairs as fast as you've just done. Swinging the door open, you faced the white headed hockey player.

"Y/N," he started, moving closer, though hesitant.

"Sunghoon,"

His actual name sounded foreign from you, and it only made him realise how much he’s fucked up, but somehow, hearing you say his name brought him comfort after the time away from you. Maybe he was just insane but who knows.

“What are you doing here? It's late,” you continued, nerves creeping up on you.

“I wanted to come see you,”

Now he’s done it.

“After avoiding me for weeks on end?”

“I wasn’t—” Sunghoon’s first instinct was to defend himself, but then he realised that you had a point, and in fact, he was the idiot here. Not to mention, an asshole too.

Your grip on the door tightened, an unexpected feeling of frustration welled up. “You sure? Look, Hoon, I don't know what's been going on with you lately, but it feels like you're pushing me away gradually. Maybe it isn't obvious, but it's the little things … and it hurts,”

“I know that I've been an asshole, and that I've been treating you unfairly, but there's just so many things going on in my head right now,”

“You don't get to do that,” you murmured, shaking your head and not believing the excuse he gave, one that you've heard many times from others. “Tell them to me, then! I'm here, Hoon, I'm always here if you need me. Don't push me away, please,”

Sunghoon was dying internally from the stupidest excuses he gave, and after hearing the desperation in your voice, he swore he was about to break soon. “I can't tell you about them,” he said quietly, chewing anxiously on his bottom lip.

“Why not?” Your frustration grew, stubbornness evident, meanwhile his patience thinned. “You told me to trust you and I do, but do you not trust me? Why can't you let me in your heart?”

“It's not that … not at all … no,”

“Then what is it?!”

“God—It's because I like you! I'm in love with you, Y/N,”

Love?

“It’s not that I’m not letting you in my heart, it’s just—” Sunghoon’s resolve was breaking, he simply couldn’t bear holding in the truth anymore, showing his vulnerability, “—I’m scared,”

You were stunned to say the least, but you kept silent, letting him continue.

“Over the past weeks, I’ve been figuring out what my feelings were, I wanted to make things clear. At one point, I just wanted to reveal it all to you, but everytime I see you I feel like I'm about to burst,” he ran a hand through his hair out of habit, clearly distressed, “I didn’t know how to tell you, I was scared I’ll fuck up, but in those days, I didn’t realise how much I was hurting you too,”

“I was a mess and I didn’t want you to see me like this, I’m sorry,” he took a step closer, your hand wanted to reach out for him, but you found yourself frozen in place. “I couldn’t get you off my mind all game. I knew I just had to tell you tonight,”

You didn’t know what to say. He liked you? Wait, no—he’s in love with you. The best part was that you felt the same, but were you also angry at him? You were.

“You’re so stupid,” you punched his shoulder, gaze narrowed at him after a solid minute of taking everything in. “I can’t believe you were avoiding me,” you mumbled, your rage dissolving into affection, your heart melting and you felt light headed. “But I understand, Hoon, I just wished you didn’t push me away,”

“I know,” he closed the space in between and pulled you close, hugging you and practically caged you in his arms, not that you were complaining. “I’m sorry,”

“I forgive you,” you ran your hand on his back in an attempt to reassure him. “I like you too, Hoonie, if that’s what you’re wondering,”

He pressed a soft kiss on the top of your head and you could feel his smile. “You always know what I’m thinking,”

“Hold on,” you pulled away slowly, your hand absentmindedly travelling to the back of his neck. “Does this—are we—”

“Officially together?” he finished your sentence, causing you to break into an amused smile. “I've been dying to ask this for a long time—well, Y/N, can I be your boyfriend?”

“You’re so cheesy!” you hit his chest, bursting out laughing and your laughs became infectious, resulting in him doing the same. “Yes, Park, I’d love to be your girlfriend,”

“So … as my girlfriend, can I kiss you right now?”

“Say less,”

The moment you crashed your lips onto his, you swore you saw stars. His lips melted softly against yours perfectly. Without thinking, your hands pulled him in with force and your skilled effort managed to close the door behind you, only giving Sunghoon the chance to push you against it immediately.

He let out a soft groan which only sent butterflies down in your abdomen (plus somewhere else that you wouldn't admit there and then), his hands exploring the span of your body just as much as yours did to him. Knowing that you liked him back and getting to kiss you after months of pining had Sunghoon feeling as if he was on top of the world, he just couldn't get enough especially when he hasn't been close to you for weeks.

By the time you two pulled away from one another, you were both breathless and a panting mess, you were craving for him still and the fire burning in his eyes was enough to tell you that he felt the same. His hand travelled up to your cheek, gaze flickering between your irises to your lips, the tension thick enough for you to suffocate in.

“Can I kiss you again?” he whispered, both your lips lingering close enough to brush against each other, and it totally drove you insane knowing he was doing this on purpose.

You nodded, mumbling a quiet ‘yes’ and Sunghoon had never been more relieved, practically chasing after your lips as he dove back in and kissed you once more. He tilted his head just enough for him to deepen the kiss, pouring his utmost love, desperation and devotion into it, conveying an unspoken truth of affection and pining he had for you.

The night might’ve turned into a blur but it was one where you didn’t want to leave each other’s side. ‘Can you stay over tonight’ was answered with a yes and you welcomed him into your bed, staying up pouring secrets and your hidden truths.

What started as an impulsive and reckless night together turned into a blossoming love that you were hoping and dying to keep. A love that you were sure would last for evermore.

IT WAS NO SECRET THAT YOU AND SUNGHOON LOVED EACH OTHER TILL THE POINT WHERE IT WAS SICKENING TO OTHERS. YOU TWO MADE THAT VERY CLEAR AND OVERLY OBVIOUS.

Yunjin and Wonyoung were accepting of him, especially after he paid for your meals with them that definitely won them over. What could you say? You and your friends were suckers for free food and little things. His friends were equally friendly and chill, welcoming you to their gatherings and games.

But other than that, both sides were also increasingly sick of you two, in an affectionate way of course. Maybe they didn’t say it, but they were. Wherever you went, he followed; wherever he went, you followed. You were simply stuck to the hip. So, in their defence, you two resembled a lovesick couple that was still in their honeymoon phase except that phase lasted for almost a year. It was rather insufferable in the beginning, but after months towards a year, they’ve gotten used to it and found it sweet instead.

Example A. At any given chance, your name would be mentioned and so would his. Sunghoon would be caught giggling at his phone pre games in the locker room, sporting your hairband on his wrist and even having a necklace with your initials on it, claiming that it was his lucky charm. Whenever he brought you round to dinners with his best friends and their partners, you and him practically blinded the rest with the amount of love you had for one another. It couldn’t be described, it was all in the gazes and small touches that conveyed the message. Unaware about it, you and him were oblivious and trapped in your bubble.

Example B. You were just as obnoxious as him. Having a picture of him as your wallpaper and creating playlists for him, your friends were gasping at the way you were acting. Hoonie this and Hoonie that, you almost became your mother. Safe to say, you were both made for each other with the same level of obsession and delusions. Your friends were happy for you two nevertheless, and they were mostly glad that you managed to find someone compatible.

Speaking of your mother, the time when you broke the news to her, you knew she would be elated, and she was. The first time you brought him back home, your mother greeted him with wide open arms, having the best dinner ever. It was the same for his parents. They were just as welcoming and loving, crushing your nerves when you went over to meet them.

Life might be stressful still but it was going great for you. There you were in your room rushing a last minute holiday assignment, bummed out that you were missing one of Sunghoon’s game, currently only getting crumbs by waiting for his messages and seeing him days after for your date.

By the time you were halfway through your assignment, you were dozing off, phone placed in ‘do not disturb’ mode, not knowing that your phone was receiving messages then.

Knock. Knock.

The sound coming from the window definitely got you awake at once. Alarmed and wary, you got up from your chair and slowly turned around to where your window was. But the sight you were witnessing before you had you relieved and sighing.

It was Sunghoon, and he was hanging on for dear life, somehow still managing a lopsided smile for you.

Despite still being surprised, you shook it off and rushed over to pull the windows open to let him in, wondering how in hell did he pull off climbing up to your window unharmed. Helping yank him through the window was enough workout for the week, but you got him in thankfully without making any odd or loud noises that might wake your parents up.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he said, rather breathlessly, snaking an arm around your middle, pulling you in naturally.

“Hi,” you whispered, letting him lean down to pepper kisses all over your face, travelling from your forehead to your cheeks before it landed on your lips. “I thought you’re coming over on Saturday?”

“I wanted to come find you,” he smiled against a haste kiss, face beaming. “The team won big tonight and I was sad you weren’t there. You’re basically my lucky charm,”

“Well, your lucky charm is stuck home doing her assignment,” you frowned, pinching his cheek softly. “Will you be staying over? It’s late, and you’re driving,”

“Do you want me to?”

“Of course I do,”

Sunghoon could never say ‘no’ to you.

“I’ll stay with you,”

“I have clothes from which you left last time,” you noted, pursing your lips as you think of where you’ve put them. “I’ll go get them for you,”

“It’s fine,” he grabbed your wrist to stop you from taking another step from him. “Later, maybe. I just want you here,”

Trying to feel so normal and unphased from what he just said, which totally failed. His words got you grinning like an idiot, and you knew you should be getting used to his unprompted affection with words, but it still surprises you and makes you flush at times.

“Stop, I have a boyfriend,” you joked lightly, to which he caught on easily.

He raised his eyebrows, clearly amused. “Oh yeah? I’ll beat him up right now,”

“He’s probably going to fuck you up,”

“He probably stinks!”

“Yeah he does!”

“Hey!” he laughed, wrapping both his arms around you and pulled you into a hug. Contrary to what you’ve just said, he actually smelt really good. Fresh from a shower and having the specific scent of that heavy cherry shampoo you bought for him, you could die in his arms at that moment.

“I love you,”

Your tiredness and drowsiness evaporated once you heard what he’d said. It wasn’t a part of your hallucinations, right? He said it clearly and loudly, it definitely was something you couldn’t miss at all.

“I–is something wrong?” Your momentary disassociation and silence worried your boyfriend who tried checking up on you as he pulled away slowly. You shook your head, wasting no more time to tell him what you feel.

“I love you too,”

His stare softened, the worry in his gaze turned to relief. The biggest smile appeared on his face, his eyes turned into crescents and the constellations of moles shone brighter than ever. There were times where Sunghoon felt actual happiness. Ones where he won championships and important games, childhood memories, but this was surely going to be a new addition.

“Should we call it a night soon?”

“Are you just trying to get me to cuddle you?”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, though not denying it. “Yes,”

Letting out a soft chuckle, you knew him by now, his patterns and the littlest details about him. Shaking your head slightly, your face had a playful grin plastered on. “Race you to it?”

“You’re challenging a pro-athlete now?”

“Hm, maybe?” you didn’t even give him a second before dashing away to your bathroom, leaving him stunned and frozen.

“Hey! That’s so not fair!”

“Boohoo! Got a head start!”

“Unfair!”

If this was what it’s like to be with Sunghoon, you’d never trade it for anything, even if he’s an annoying sassy man at times. Never in a million years would you have expected yourself dating the star player of the hockey team, player number 23. He showed you colours and taught you a secret language you couldn’t see with anyone else. He showed you what love meant and what it was worth.

The road that led to him and this might’ve been questionable and long, not to mention, crazy and stupid, but alas, there was so much love and affection that couldn’t be measured. It was a crazy, stupid, love.

taglist: @1800-beomgyu @yawnzshit @shinrjj @skzenhalove @taekwondoes @lalalalawon @ce1ight @enhacqke @winteringdream @strvlveera @rikisly @rikakhai @renchai @sievenderz @fariylixie0915 @enhastolemyheart @ckline35 @imhuh @yenqa @jayfrvr @tobiosbbyghorl @liikno @vizstars @kells5595 @addictedtohobi @rikisly @luvkpopp @delulu4-life @leep0ems @moonlighthoon @internet-folks @flwrshee @beansworldsstuff @bitehee @asyleums @luv4cheol @yur1a1 @dammit-jjk @kjrcrz @jhopesucker @enhaz1 @lilriswife4life @jenblovescatsbro (bolded can't be tagged)

special thanks to those who've been here since the start. i'm super thankful and i know who exactly you are! so shout out to all of you and i hope you'll look forward to my future works. as for those that tune in from time to time, still, thank you for supporting me and my works. quite emotional about the fact that this series had ended since it's my first ever one and to be able to receive so much love from it just makes me feel genuinely amazed. i'm really happy that you guys enjoy my writing and give me words of encouragement. i love reading all your messages/asks/comments. grateful that you're here, love you all. much love and kisses from me. thank you.

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snaxle · 29 days

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artist: can you guys reblog my art please? reblogs > likes! 🥺

tumblr user: umm no??? you're such a piece of shit i hope your blog gets deleted since you hate people with mental illness and are here begging for reblogs 🤣🤣🤣 dont you know you should only post art for yourself and not for validation, god you're so ridiculous and also your art is ugly so !!!!!!!!! stop guilt tripping people !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

poll runner: if you dont reblog my "soda vs pop" poll right now im gonna kill and block you because im trying to run a very serious poll and i need proper samples. it's obvious this website doesnt care about reblogs anymore since there's 30,000 votes on this poll and ONLYY 19k notes. you people are fucking ridiculous and if you cant reblog my poll then you hate trans people and want orphanages full of babies to float into the atmosphere and never be seen again

tumblr user: omgg soo true i will now reblog this soda vs pop poll 100 times because op is soo correct about people not reblogging anything anymore

#og

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hcuyk · 5 days

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OUR INFERNO | CHAPTER ONE

SYNOPSIS ✧ despite being your greatest archnemesis/rival/enemy/frenemy/whateverthefuck he was, haechan had always been by your side. that changed when your boyfriend was brought up, creating a newfound rift in your whateverthefuck relationship with haechan

PAIRING ✧ rival!haechan x fem!reader

GENRE ✧ high school au, enemies to fwb, angst, smut, fluff(?), humor(?) (these mfs bicker a lot), pining

WARNINGS ✧ 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT — cheating, profanity, mentions of physical fight/bruises, underaged drinking, obsessive/possessive haechan : NSFW TAGS : outdoor/semipublic sex, dubcon recording, spit/drool/tears, oral and fingering (fem receiving), penetration, scratching/ripping, humping, minimal praise, degradation, sub!hyuck for 0.002 seconds, petnames (princess, good girl, babe/baby, slut)

WORD COUNT ✧ 19k

≡ [ OUR INFERNO EXCLUSIVE ] @flwoie — fill out the form or comment/send an ask/dm to be added!

. . . . . . OUR INFERNO M.LIST ✩ next [ TWO ]

⋮≡ [ PERMANENT TAGLIST ] @armysantiny @nyujjan @the-kpop-simp @sunwoosberrie (lmk if you prefer to be tagged for both, or for only hyunjae/haechan!) — fill out the form or comment/send an ask/dm to be added!

NCT DREAM MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION

AUTHOR'S NOTE : haechan's version for the original our inferno is finally here! i hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

PART ONE: CHASING THE SPARK (THE FIRE TETRAHEDRON) — fuel, oxygen, and heat | CHAPTER ONE

“Genuine question.”

“Shoot.”

“Who the fuck does Haechan actually think he is?”

Unphased by your up-and-coming rage rant, Jaemin resumed snacking on the protein bar he had brought with him. He tossed his free arm over the camera equipment and backpacks sitting next to him on the bench, watching you stride back and forth within one of the many hallways in the recreational center.

“Well, he is your boss.”

“No, he’s the student executive producer,” you corrected, your legs unwavering as you kept a consistent pace to release your frustrations. Jaemin shrugged and tossed one leg over the other, staying relaxed despite the hot fumes emanating from your upright and angered figure. You paused momentarily to look him in the eye.

“Emphasis on the student,” you clarified.

“Emphasis on the executive, Y/N.”

Baffled at how he was defending your greatest archnemesis (well, more like your greatest frenemy), you ignored his rebuttal and started pacing again. Your steps slowed as you envisioned the sensations you experienced just minutes before, back when you, Jaemin, and Haechan were at the indoor pool to report for your school’s broadcasting channel. Technically, you were the one reporting and filming while Haechan was the subject of interest, and Jaemin was there for physical support.

Chills latched onto your skin as you remembered what it felt like to have Haechan’s bare torso looming over you, his eyes peering over your shoulder to glance at your footage. While staring at the camera, his gentle, irregular breaths would continuously hit your skin. Water from the pool would trickle down his hair and into your shirt, reaching your backside. When it happened, you could barely comprehend Haechan’s ‘advice’ and instead focused on feeling every cold droplet travel through the crevasses created by your spine. You winced at the thought of that happening again, yet somehow you could still hear his irritating voice near your ear, telling you all the reasons why your B-roll of his lap swimming was ‘trash’ and ‘unusable.’

For a moment, you stood there in the hallway frozen, unsure of how to move, before realizing you were just reliving a moment from earlier and that Haechan was still in the locker room changing.

“I’m going to make a complaint,” you declared, turning back towards Jaemin for his encouragement. Alternatively, you were met with the sight of your best friend completely failing to conceal his judgment and disapproval towards your suggestion.

“Against Haechan? You gotta be kidding, right?”

“Yes,” you answered confidently. “Wait, I mean no, I’m not kidding, but yes, against Haechan.”

Jaemin eyed you skeptically, trying to decipher why you felt threatened enough to report someone like Haechan. You may not have spent all your previous years in high school with an affinity for Haechan, but it wasn’t like you hated him either—not in the way you truly loathed others. If that were the case, you wouldn’t spend nearly every day with him, bickering until the sun chose to set.

“Sure, maybe my B-roll was trash, I can attest to that, but that does not give his bitchass the right to, not only shit on how ‘awful’ I was doing, but also yank the camera out of my hands and delete all the footage I got because they weren’t ‘perfect enough.’ What kind of psycho is that?” You glanced over at Jaemin, trying once again to get him to back you up, but the most he gave was a slight nod. Everything you were spurting was half-mindedly being decoded because he had ended up placing more significance on inhaling protein. Regardless, you continued.

“And you would think, hey! As the student executive producer of a high school broadcasting team, he would understand that no! I indeed do not record half-naked people swimming in a pool, whether it be for a career or a hobby. He should also at least have the decency to not swim seven hundred miles per minute while I’m recording. Of course I’m not going to catch up, especially when he barely told me how he wanted things to be recorded? Isn’t he fucking insane for that? Not to mention all the goddamn splashing because of how fucking long his limbs are—”

“You’re explaining this like I didn’t witness the whole exchange,” Jaemin grumbled.

“And you would think he knows, right? That Mr. Executive-slash-Captain-of-the-Swim-Team should either be more considerate when, A, he’s kicking water in my direction when he’s swimming or, B, station me away from the edge of the pool? Just a thought, but fuck me, I guess.”

“Well yeah, but the—”

“Also! Not to mention the camera has the fucking ability to zoom in, so why was there even a need for me to stand by the pool anyway?” You scoffed at the absurdity, almost tempted to cackle like a villain because of it. “The least he could do was tell me how to record it or find a way to adjust and compromise without occasionally soaking me with water on purpose, which I know damn well he was—”

“That’s just how-”

“We have a tripod, for god’s sake!” you exclaimed. By now, Jaemin had given up on providing you with his input. He opted to rest against the wall, finishing up whatever he had left of the protein bar, and occasionally would roll his eyes.

“But even then, who the fuck wants to see him swim anyway? We’ll probably only need like…what? A minute of the footage for the B-roll? So why the hell is he treating it like it’s about to be nominated by the goddamn Oscars for Best Picture? He just loves to nitpick and control me like a fucking puppet—”

“Keep talking and you’ll potentially strain your throat,” a new voice interrupted.

You jerked around to find Haechan, the culprit of your rant, exiting the locker room with a small duffle bag that contained both his swim gear and his school clothes from earlier in the day. His brown hair was only halfway dry, some strands still stuck to his forehead as he approached where you were pacing.

You halted in your path and stared him down. Haechan immediately caught onto the mood you were in, and instead of being shocked or hurt, he grinned.

“You.”

Your attempt at threatening him with one word made Haechan laugh.

“Hey, I’m just looking out for you.”

“Oh here we go again,” Jaemin mumbled, tossing the wrapper of the protein bar to the side. He pulled out his phone and went on TikTok, deciding it was more worthy of his attention than listening to you two banter—something he had been experiencing for well over five years.

As a mutual friend of yours and Haechan’s since middle school, Jaemin understood the frenemy dynamic better than either of you. Eventually, over the long years he had known you both, he learned to leave you two be.

“What about me, though? Are you going to try and tattletale on me?” Haechan feigned sympathy as he gave you an exaggerated pout, tilting his head like a puppy’s. “C’mon. I’m just doing my job.”

“Sorry, but I don’t remember ‘being a dick’ being listed under the requirements for your oh-so-important position of power.” You huffed at him and crossed your arms, choosing to face elsewhere as you rooted the soles of your feet to the ground.

Haechan furrowed his brows, his eyes never leaving you, as he addressed the third party within the shared space.

“Jaemin, was I being a dick, or is Y/N exaggerating?”

Jaemin glanced up at his phone and scrunched his nose at Haechan in annoyance.

“Don’t even try to bring me into whatever…this mess is.”

“No, tell him,” you demanded, now looking at him. Your glare was enough to burn Jaemin into ashes, but it was nothing compared to Haechan’s gaze piercing into your back. Knowing that he never looked away made you shiver, hating how fixated he seemed to be—and seemingly without reason too.

“Listen, I wasn’t being a dick. I was treating you the same way I treat everyone else. I’d honestly argue that you’re just narcissistic and think everything is about you when—”

“Oh wow, thank you for admitting that you’re a dick to everyone else!” You tossed your hands up for dramatic appeal as you spun back around to look at him. He scoffed, but his demeanor was quickly shadowed by a smirk that appeared on his lips, testing you with the arch of his brow.

“Oh really? Do you see anyone else complaining?”

“I’m complaining,” Jaemin muttered.

“People don’t complain because they’re scared of you, Sherlock,” you retorted. At this point, Haechan had already caught onto your bullshit of making evidence up, and it was why this exchange ended up lasting for as long as it did. Nevertheless, his ego continued to build the more you spoke.

“You’re not scared of me?”

And you keep falling for the bait.

“Why should I? You’re nothing.” You approached him and pressed a finger into his chest, taunting him as you stared straight into his eyes.

Suddenly a competition seemed to have materialized because now you both were locking eyes, too stubborn to look away.

“One day you’ll wake up and realize your position doesn’t mean shit. You take it too seriously and make everyone’s job your job when this should be a learning experience for the rest of us.”

“And who exactly is ‘us,’ babe?”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Don’t call me that–”

“And it’s also starting to sound like jealousy to me.” Haechan’s eyes finally shifted, but instead of looking away from you like you initially wanted him to, you trailed his line of sight down to your lips. He eyed them shamelessly—technically making you win the unspoken eye contact competition, but at what cost? “I won’t believe you until I receive firm evidence and testimonies from the other students in the club, then maybe I’ll consider your concerns. Deal?”

What you despised most was how well Haechan knew and provoked you to get under your skin. He was a raging flame, making your blood boil from both irritation and excitement. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, but after nearly six years of banter with Haechan, you knew damn well you enjoyed every second of it. It was like a nonstop competition, and you were always on the edge of winning.

Maybe it was also because you were so used to him constantly being above you. He was the president of the student council, the swim team’s captain, and specifically the one who snatched the executive position away from you in the broadcasting team, yet somehow you were still able to compete at his level of arrogance and egotism.

Even though you may never be able to top him in the foreseeable future, you at least knew how to match his fury—his fire, with your own.

“You’re pathetic.” You took a few steps back to gain some distance while his eyes flickered back up to yours. He bit his lip playfully, his smile only growing even wider.

“Woah, Y/N. Exposing my degradation kink so soon?”

“I-...you- w-what?!” you sputtered, your jaw falling slack as Jaemin’s head snapped up, staring at the two of you in disgust.

“Get a room—!”

“I’m going to make sure you get degraded from your position, you freak!”

“Not exactly how that word works, princess, but I’m glad you’re at least passionate.” His cooing made you want to slap the living shit out of him, your eyes protruding from their sockets are you glared.

“Are you fucking bricked up or something right now—?”

“Hey guys,” a woman’s voice called out. Your heads turned to look at the end of the hallway, catching one of the recreational center’s workers waving in your general direction. She pressed her lips together and smiled, attempting to be as professional and understanding as possible. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but is it okay if you guys turn it down a notch?”

You and Haechan both nodded and whispered apologies, feeling like kids who just got scolded for shoving paintbrushes down the drain. Fortunately, the worker’s smile radiated genuine warmth and consideration, providing you some sort of reassurance that you guys weren’t too much of a disturbance (even though you guys totally were).

“You two are the most childish fuckers I know,” Jaemin deadpanned, finally shoving his phone away as he switched between looking at you and the man by your side. His eyebrows bunched up.

“And apparently horny too.”

“I would move across the country if it meant I never had to see him again,” you grumbled, striding back to the pile of equipment to pick up your backpack and the bag with all your reporting necessities (boring script, stationary, and a couple of notebooks shared with all the broadcasting students to collect notes and inspiration in).

“Hello? I’m still here.”

“Look at that. He already misses me.”

“I’m going to hurl,” Jaemin unnecessarily announced, and Haechan’s face soured.

“Ew.”

“Exactly. That’s how you two make me feel whenever you guys are together.” Jaemin got up on his feet and grabbed the wrapper to shove into one of his pockets (no littering, kids) before outstretching his limbs dramatically.

“I swear I developed back pain from always listening to you guys bicker.”

“Or, hot take,” Haechan interjected, “maybe it’s because you’re always sitting with your back arching forward like it belongs in the Arches National Park–”

“Yeah yeah, shut the fuck up.” Jaemin waved him off with his hand and rolled his eyes. “I came here to help carry stuff, not listen to your bullshit.”

He picked up the bag that contained the camera and passed it to Haechan. He offered to hold one more thing, but with only his backpack and the tripod left, Jaemin didn’t see much need for his friend’s assistance.

Jaemin then faced you, his face stern and rid of emotion.

“You too, Y/N,” he stated seriously. “None of this ‘he said this,’ ‘he said that,’ ‘please fuck me’ bullshit from you either.”

You gaped at him, arms wrapped tightly around the crew’s bag.

“Now why the hell do you think—”

“Zip it.”

Without giving you much of an opportunity to continue, Jaemin sped off in front of you, ready to leave the building. You couldn’t even look at Haechan as heat rushed to your cheeks, struggling to trail after Jaemin’s speedy steps.

Despite carrying heavier items, Haechan caught up to you with ease. You wanted nothing more than for Haechan’s feet to either slow down or speed up tremendously, but of course he purposely chose to walk by your side, attached to you by the hip.

“He sees it,” Haechan sing-songed. “Everyone sees it.”

“Sees what?” you snorted, oblivious to what he was indicating.

“That you want me,” he replied nonchalantly.

The moment you two stepped outside the doors of the center, you stopped to face him, trying to confirm what exactly he was implying.

“You can’t be serious.”

Haechan, who also stopped with your steps, shrugged.

“You’re the one in denial.”

Realizing that he was serious, you felt every muscle in your body tense up.

“Haechan,” you stated firmly. “I have a boyfriend, remember?”

Instead of receiving something witty from Haechan like normal, his relaxed facial features suddenly scrambled into one that expressed remote shock. His lips were slightly parted, eyes searching yours for any hint that indicated you were lying or messing around with him, but you were serious.

The aggressive playfulness from earlier had evaporated faster than boiling water, and you watched as he became stilled. Your heart started pounding, anxiety creeping up within you due to not being able to read Haechan like you normally do.

“Since when?” he asked. His voice was quiet, his tone firmer, and by now, Jaemin was already by his car, too far from the two of you to understand what was going on. Hell, even you could barely understand what was happening.

“Earth to Haechan?” you joked, nervously laughing in an attempt to eliminate the newfound tension looming in the atmosphere. “It’s always been Yeonjun, remember?”

For a moment, Haechan could feel his mouth drying up. All his thoughts were held captive in his throat, and his lips remained parted as if they weren’t meant to collide at all. He stared at you like you had just teleported in front of him.

“Y/N,” he stated calmly, “he cheated on you.”

Your initial response was to get defensive, claiming that you already knew that because hell, it was your relationship, but then your brain acknowledged the true elephant in the conversation.

“How-...how the hell do you know about that?”

“I- You know word just-…That doesn’t matter. What matters is why in the world—”

“It was a mistake, okay?”

“A mistake?” As Haechan’s brows raised, so did his tone. “You know, people—decent people, don’t make mistakes like that.”

Seeing how Haechan was gritting his teeth, how his eyes were locked on yours, built up a foreign frustration within you. Something about the way Haechan was behaving felt like he was trying to control you.

All the rage from before had now returned, yet this time, there was no more leniency from you—not when Haechan was being more condescending than he had ever been.

“You know nothing, Haechan, so frankly, I really don’t care about what you think about my relationship with my boy-”

“You’re still with him??”

“Look,” you snapped. “Just because you have the luxury of crushing my hopes and dreams on a daily basis, it does not give you the right to dictate what’s wrong or right about my love life and my decisions. Understood?”

And just like how you always are, Haechan refused to shut up.

“How is it dictating when it’s common sense to dump a shitty person?” He dropped the bags onto the ground, and not once did he look away from you. “He’s never treated you well either, and you know that—”

“It’s not your decision to make,” you repeated. You could feel the three key elements of creating a fire stir up within you. You had the fuel, the oxygen, and the heat, and Haechan was the chemical chain reaction that would set it off. “How dense can you fucking be to not back down?”

“He cheated on you,” he reasserted, and there was a rage in his eyes that you had never once encountered. “He’s done so many shitty things, and he hasn’t changed–”

“Again, none of your fucking business–”

“And I’m pretty sure I saw—”

“I am not going to repeat myself-”

“Can’t you just listen to what I-”

“Drop it.” You were seconds away from yelling at him, ready to unleash all your anger because never once has someone threatened your love life—Yeonjun, the man you considered your soulmate. Your flame had officially engulfed his, and all Haechan could do was stare at you in disbelief and disappointment.

Turning to look away, you gazed up into the sky and scoffed, not understanding why tears had begun to pool up in your eyes. At the end of the day, Haechan meant nothing to you—you didn’t even consider him a friend.

After moments of experiencing what it was like to be suffocated by a tension so unbearable, you eventually found a way to ground yourself.

“I can’t blame him, you know,” you whispered, using the back of your hand to wipe away your tears. “We were angry. He just–...he needed an outlet, and at that time, that outlet happened to not be me, okay?”

Haechan stared at you, his mouth desperate to say something, anything, to make you see what he sees—a relationship that isn’t meant to be. That you didn’t deserve to be treated this way. Maybe you were no more than an acquaintance to him, but he knew you have always deserved better.

“He isn’t someone worth fighting for.”

“And that’s none of your business,” you scowled.

“It isn’t right—”

“Stay in your fucking lane, Hyuck.”

Haechan clamped his mouth shut, and the sight of you completely breaking down tore him apart. Possibly it was all the years you spent together growing up, constantly arguing, yet he knew he was always one to look out for you.

You sucked in a cheek, gnawing at it as your chest urged for you to forgive him, to apologize for lashing out without much notice, but in the end, you prioritized your pride over him.

Not only was Haechan’s persistence a stab to your heart, but you suspected that Jaemin was the one who told him. By spilling your secrets, it was as if Jaemin saw the knife that impaled you and yanked it out of your chest, causing you to bleed to your death.

“I’m done with this conversation,” you muttered, dropping the bag in your arms to the ground by his feet. Your plans had changed to you walking home alone, wanting nothing to do with the other two boys for the next hour or so.

When you turned around to walk away, you knew Haechan was going to try and say something. You knew him best whenever he was at his worst, so you spun around to face him for the last time that day to cut him off.

“Never fucking cross that line with me again, got it?”

And with that, you left.

Jaemin apologized to you the morning after.

He normally drove you to school, and you debated getting into his car when he showed up. Thankfully you chose to do otherwise because the second you stepped inside, Jaemin was apologizing profusely. He talked about how anxious he was all night when Haechan told him what happened, and he wouldn’t have known what to do if you didn’t forgive him. Obviously you did, and the rest of the car ride was spent with him explaining his side of the story.

According to Jaemin, he only told Haechan about how you got cheated on because it seemed like Haechan already knew. As Jaemin recalled the whole scene, you two assessed the signs, such as how Haechan didn’t provide any sort of reaction when Jaemin dropped the news. In fact, it had seemed like Haechan had brought it up to Jaemin instead.

Regardless, it became the last of your worries because all that mattered was that you were back to being on good terms with your best friend.

But avoiding Haechan felt like lighting a match in the rain.

It was your agonizing reality for the next two months, and although you could argue that you had gotten closer to your boyfriend during the supposed ‘Haechan Drought,’ you were still plagued with him being everywhere around you.

He was in all your classes, and you never truly processed the extent of how involved Haechan had always been throughout high school with you. You weren’t on the swim team, but you were stuck with him during meetings for both the broadcasting team and student council.

Yet it all felt so different.

Unless he was called on, Haechan would talk much less unprovoked and would never look at you during meetings. When he would address the entire team, he would glance at you for a split second before looking elsewhere, no longer watching you like a hawk.

You had also gotten quieter because without Haechan to banter with, you recognized that you barely had friends in any of those classes either.

There was no longer a fight between your flames, and you two kept as much distance as possible. You were thankful that there hadn’t been an instance that interrupted that, such as being forced to record more B-roll with him, and you could only hope that the rest of your senior year would remain the same.

Then you would never have to see him in college.

Now you were back to being the mediocre student that faded into the background. People knew your name at best, but none have ever tried to become your friend aside from Jaemin. No matter how involved you tried to get, the closest you were to anyone was a classmate.

Haechan had always overshadowed you too, and for the first time in years, you were detached from his fumes—yet somehow, some way, the smoke from his fire would remain in your lungs, continuing to suffocate you even more than it had before. It didn’t give you that breath of fresh air of new friends or a better life; instead, it helped you realize that you didn’t matter. It was a miracle that you even scored Yeonjun as your boyfriend.

But then that begged the question: why did Haechan bother spending his time ridiculing you?

From the very beginning, you had always meant something to him, and you couldn’t pinpoint how or why. When there was no competition in academics, he treated it as if there was. Every time you ranted, he would listen, whether it be about him or something else. Even when you talked about how your chicken from the cafeteria was burnt, he would give you his own before calling you stupid for not noticing until you sat down.

He never shrugged you off like you were nothing or shut you down because your emotions were invalid. He entertained you each time with ease, and most importantly, he knew when to respect your boundaries. Haechan was probably the most mindful person you knew and could often tell when you were distressed or needed another form of reaction from him.

He knew when to stop.

Yet when it came to the one instance involving Yeonjun, he crossed the line multiple times. Why?

“Haechan isn’t here today.”

“Huh?”

“Didn’t show up for a single class.”

Jaemin watched you play with your food with a fork, rolling the cold, barely spherical peas around and into the stale rice.

“That’s not like him,” he replied.

“Yeah.”

“I wonder why.”

“I wonder too.”

After the driest possible conversation in existence, you sighed and dropped your fork into your tray.

“I need to stop forgetting to pack myself lunch. This shit makes me lose my appetite, I swear. We should call the police and tell them the food they’re serving is illegal and a disgrace to this country.”

“Keep it away before I lose my appetite too.”

You didn’t react nor respond to what Jaemin said, letting the conversation rot as you pouted at your food. The cafeteria was unusually louder today, making it easier to space out into thought.

Jaemin took out his sandwich with a wide grin and started eating, grateful he never had to deal with what the school was feeding thanks to his mom, but eventually his eyes shifted over to you. You were unmoving with your gaze locked onto an empty spot on the table, so after moments of debating between asking you what’s wrong and ignoring you to devour his lunch, he opted to set his sandwich aside and stared straight at you.

“Why are you thinking about him?”

That was enough to garner your attention, your head snapping up to stare at your best friend like he was the craziest person you knew for mentioning Haechan, much less suggesting that your mind was wrapped around him.

“What?”

“Haechan. With his perfect attendance, a day without him should be a blessing, yet you brought up how he didn’t show up today and then moped harder than anyone I’ve ever seen mope. You should be over the moon, dancing on the tables and stealing people’s food, not-...” Jaemin waved a finger at you, “whatever this is. You seem out of it.”

“Well it’s not because of Haechan, I’ll tell you that,” you snorted. Your eyes fell back down to your tray, and the more you looked at it, the more nauseous you got. You scrunched your nose. “If anything, it’s probably because of this shit food.”

Jaemin rolled his eyes before tearing his sandwich into halves. You perked at the sight and ogled the half Jaemin taunted you with. You were about to thank him and take it into your possession before Jaemin jerked back his arm, making you whine.

“Throw away your food, then I’ll give you it.”

“Fine,” you grumbled. As Jaemin returned to his delicious, most scrumptious, packed lunch you had ever seen, you picked up your tray and walked it to the nearest trash can. As you dropped the whole thing inside, you heard your name being called.

“Y/N!”

You whipped around to check to see who it was and smiled at the sight of Nagyung waving at you. You wouldn’t consider her a good friend, but you knew her well enough since she was the vice president of the student council.

She ran over to you with a stack of paper in her arms, relieved to have caught you.

“Y/N, hi! I’m so glad I found you. I was scared I wouldn’t because of how packed it is.”

She flashed you her usual glowing smile, and you noticed that she was a bit more giddy than usual, making you question why she was choosing to talk to you in the first place. All your conversations normally took place before, during, and after student council meetings, so this was slightly out of character.

“What’s up?” you asked. As you looked at her, you noticed how her outfit was slightly more put together than it normally was. She had on a cute top that suited her chest perfectly and a skirt that you had never seen her wear.

“Your outfit’s really cute today.”

“Really?!” Her bright demeanor then faded into concern. “Wait, is it too noticeable or out of the blue? Is it bad?”

“No, no. Not at all!” you reassured. “It’s just the right amount of perfect.”

“Great! God, that means the world coming from you. It’s because!...” She stopped to glance around, making sure that no one was eavesdropping, before taking a step closer to whisper. “It’s because I was finally asked out on a date by my crush!”

She could barely contain her excitement, holding back a squeal with her bottom lip latched between her teeth. Her sunshine-like energy made you grin.

“That’s great! I’m glad you’re making progress.” Your eyebrows pinched as you tried to recall the last time Nagyung had updated you about her crush. “You’ve been pining after him for so long—whoever ‘him’ is, anyway.”

The question of who Nagyung liked had always gone unanswered. She never told anyone, not even the ones who knew her best, but she loved gushing about her mystery crush to everyone she knew. All people really knew, you included, was how down bad she was.

A part of you wondered if it was someone you knew—someone pretty like Hyunjin or well-known like…Haechan.

“Oh, I wish I could tell you, and maybe I will if things go really well and we become official!” She squealed and hopped in her spot, unable to resist giving you a half-hug with her free arm. “This is so exciting, Y/N!”

“I’m really happy for you.” Your smile was genuine until you thought about why she was looking for you, starting to doubt that she called you over just so she could tell you about her date.

“I’ll let you know how it goes, swear. But! That aside, I also have something for you.”

You knew it.

Your brows raised, and when you didn’t catch on, she gestured to the papers in her arms with guilt.

“I know this is kind of a dick move, and I’m really really sorry, but I promised to put up fliers for prom today. My date is right after my last class.” Her frown had deepened, and for a split second, you found yourself sympathizing with her because who wanted to let down such a cheerful personality, especially when this was life-changing for her?

“So you want me to do it?”

“Exactly! Please, that would be great. It shouldn’t take too long, too.”

You thought about how you would have to give up an evening of playing on your switch or extra time to study for an upcoming exam, but you knew it was your duty as secretary to help out whenever needed.

Not to mention that it would also make you a decent friend not to hold Nagyung back from her soon-to-be love life despite her poor date planning. If you were in her shoes, you would have wanted her to do the same for you too.

“Sure,” you accepted. “Why not?”

“You’re the best, seriously!” She handed you the fliers as she began to fill you in on the extra details.

“I already told Mr. Barajas that I wasn’t feeling well and that you were going to do it, so he said it all worked out and to not worry about it,” she rambled, happy to give the extra weight (both literally and metaphorically) to you. “I just printed these out, so everything should be perfect to go. Oh, and don’t worry about any extras! Just set them on Barajas’s desk when you’re finished. Haechan will also be in 142 with tape ready for you.”

The mention of the forbidden name nearly made every cell in your body halt.

“What?”

Nagyung tilted her head at you, confused, before finally realizing.

“Oh crap, I forgot! I’m so sorry, I really did forget you guys weren’t on good terms. I hope it’s okay that he’s helping you out. I mean, he’s supposed to, but it was meant for him and me to do it together, not you two, so…God, I’m really sorry Y/N.”

Before you could even react to the newfound information, she continued.

“I really have to go now. Thank you again! I promise I’ll make it up to you!” And with her rosy pink cheeks and a stunning shade of red on her lips, she basically skipped away and waved goodbye to you with a smile, so you reciprocated it with an awkward one of your own.

When she turned her back, your smile immediately dropped and you sighed heavily.

“Have fun on your date,” you mumbled, your eyes falling to fliers in your arms. As you skimmed the one on top, you noticed it was to promote going to prom while also including a big QR code to vote for who should be your school’s prom king and queen. You expected it since it was the last meeting’s topic of discussion, but what you weren’t aware of was who were listed as nominees.

There were eight names listed under ‘Prom Court,’ and while you expected Haechan’s, Nagyung’s, and your boyfriend’s names on it, your jaw nearly hit the ground at the sight of your own.

With every passing class period, your anxiety would kick up a notch.

The dread of talking to the face you had been avoiding for two months engulfed you, and it caused you to develop the urge to ditch your current class to go hunt for Jisung, the student council’s historian. You wanted nothing more than to dump the stack of fliers into his arms, and knowing Jisung, he wouldn’t ask any questions. Hell, you were certain that if you asked him nicely, he would do it for you because of how naturally sweet and endearing he was.

But the guilt of ditching your secretary duties kept picking at your skin, and besides, all you had to do was treat Haechan like a colleague. That should be easy, right?

As you suffered through the last few minutes of class and your teacher’s incessant ramblings about the upcoming exam, your thoughts drifted over to what would happen the moment you stepped into room 142.

Haechan hadn’t shown up to a single class all day, yet he was expected to set up fliers after school. As your thoughts snowballed, you arrived at the baseless conclusion that maybe Nagyung wasn’t aware that Haechan was absent today, therefore someone else (like Jisung) would take over.

Suddenly, your back had straightened with feigned interest in your teacher’s last few words. Something about Jisung being there instead of Haechan had excited you; it felt like you were free and that the universe was listening to your prayers. The gamble of seeing whether it would be Haechan or Jisung (or literally anyone else) had your right leg bouncing, eyes on the clock, and when the bell rang, you shot up from your seat, backpack over your shoulders and fliers in your arms, before dashing out of the classroom.

You sped down the hallway to 142, Mrs. Zhang’s room for Chemistry, bug-eyed, before having your delusions crushed at the sight of Haechan’s stupidly large height leaning against one of the counters. Your feet stood glued to the ground by the doorway, your eyes locked onto him.

Covered from head to toe in sweats, Haechan was immersed in whatever was on his phone, scrolling through something as his brown waves peeked out from inside his hood. Without any hint of him acknowledging your presence, your shattered hopes slowly began to rebuild.

Maybe if you were quiet enough, you could sneak out with the tape and do everything on your own, avoiding him at all. Actually, scratch that. You didn’t even need the tape. All you had to do was go to another teacher’s room, steal their tape for half an hour, and then return it with ease.

The plan was effortless, and you mentally smacked your forehead for not thinking of it earlier. Right as you were about to execute it, your backpack slammed against the doorframe as you turned on your heels.

“Nice try.”

You groaned out of embarrassment (and slight pain) and forced yourself to turn around. Haechan’s phone was now face down on the counter, and his arms were crossed over his abdomen. His face remained stoic as his eyes met yours, wielding a tension you didn’t recognize.

Now that you could properly look at him, you noticed a few details that you hadn’t before, such as the small tear on his lower lip and the bandaid on his cheekbone. If you looked long enough, you could catch light patches of purple across his skin, and the sight hindered all your thoughts, your brain too occupied with piecing together how he ended up like this.

“What happened?” you blurted, your gaze shooting up from his lips to his eyes.

Haechan staggered at your suddenty, but he managed to keep himself stilled, his brows pinching.

“What do you mean?”

Even if Haechan didn’t mean to, his question became an invitation for your unfiltered thoughts to spill out of your mouth.

“You didn’t show up for any of our classes today,” you began, “but now you’re here? For some stupid fliers? You’re barely dressed properly like you normally are, your hair isn’t straightened, you look pale, Hyuck, and what’s up with the bruises or the bandaid on your cheek–”

“Are you seriously psychoanalyzing me?” he asked with a scoff. There was no humor in his tone. Instead, it looked as if he was irritated, perhaps even more than you were.

Haechan barely met your eyes, and his arms closed himself off from you.

“What–?”

“You’re evaluating me like I’m some sort of lab project, Y/N.”

“No, no I’m not,” you rejected. “I’m just saying things are a little off.” You kept your eyes firm on his, even as he pushed himself off the counter with his phone and made his way over to you. “And you know, you really can’t blame me for being somewhat worried when one, you don’t show up, and two, you look like a whole mess—”

“Just hand over the fliers—” he interrupted, gritting his teeth as he outstretched his arm in your direction. You dodged him by turning your body 180 degrees and stood your ground.

“What happened?” you repeated, this time more firmly.

Haechan looked at you, a blank expression on his face, before turning back around to grab the roll of tape left on the teacher’s desk. When he returned, he shoved it into your arms while simultaneously stealing half the stack. You protested with an exclaimed ‘Hey!’ yet he didn’t bat an eye and skimmed over the contents of the flier on top.

Bothered by his lack of response, you frowned and made sure to block the doorway, refusing to let him leave until you received answers.

“Why are you acting like this? Pretending that I’m not even—”

“I’ll do upstairs, you do downstairs,” he muttered.

“Did you get into a fight? Why weren’t you here today? Why are you here now—”

“You’d think you’d know,” he finally answered, pushing past you like you weighed none less than a feather.

Your brain had fully malfunctioned at that point, unable to decipher what he meant as Haechan walked off to the nearest staircase. As his footsteps echoed down the hall, you thought about what he was implying yet came to no resolution. Did he assume that you were caught up in your school’s latest gossip? Or that you were the main admin for his biggest fan page on Instagram?

The idea made you snort, and you scowled bitterly at his childish attitude. It wasn’t like you were a complete stranger intruding on his personal life—hell, you felt like you deserved an explanation because of how you were forced to do this with him.

As you stormed off past the remaining lingering students to the nearest bulletin board, you questioned how you were going to do this on your own.

You had put up fliers countless times in the past few years yet never alone. Luckily, you had a general idea of where the fliers should go when it came to the school’s hallways, but as you approached your first destination, you struggled with ripping off pieces of tape while holding the stack at the same time. It would’ve been easier with a partner by your side, one who either did the tape ripping or placing of the fliers, but you weren’t desperate enough to fall into the role of a helpless princess in need of her pretty (useless) prince.

After some trial and error, you found a method that consisted of setting the stack on the ground occasionally so you could rip off pieces of tape. Then you would slap said pieces of tape onto your wrist, having them readily available as you put up a few fliers at a time.

Although slightly time-consuming, it was working well and kept you at a steady pace until you heard crashing footsteps behind you from afar. Without paying any mind to it, you bit back your curiosity in order to focus on the wall in front of you, but then you made the mistake of taking a step back, bumping into the person who was sprinting.

You lost your balance and fell forward before catching yourself shortly after. However, the fliers had already flown out of your arms, scattering across and down the long hallway.

Ready to curse out the offender for running down the hallway, you were surprised when you saw that it was Nagyung behind you, pouring out apologies while a loopy grin was smacked onto her face.

You steadied your anger and told her it was okay, getting down onto your knees to collect all the fliers. Her ‘sorry’s could only go so far with her smeared lipstick, a dazed gaze, and her hair holding the mold to someone else’s (presumably her crush’s) hands in them, but you still excused her, knowing that she was over the moon right now.

“It’s okay, Nagyung, I promise.” You forced out a chuckle as you crawled to scavenge for the ones that flew a few feet away.

“I really didn’t mean to,” she pouted, but it was shortly followed up with bubbly giggles. “God, Y/N, can you believe this? Oh, it’s going so well! I think I love him, I do.”

“Good for you,” you grumbled, hoping that she didn’t hear it as you continued to move down the hallway, hating how far the fliers had escaped from you. You also hated how she just stood there without intent on helping you at all.

“I have to really go now. Got volleyball practice soon, but I think I’m seeing him tomorrow too!” She waved you goodbye.

And just like that, she continued running off.

You stared at how you were only able to collect half the mess, hating how Nagyung had somehow managed to delay you even further from being in the comfort of your bed. You were also salty at how her date was taking place at the school, wishing she could’ve dragged him around while she taped stuff up before getting dick-downed of some sort.

Deciding that she and her business weren’t worth your time, you continued to pick everything up as quickly as you could, wanting nothing more than to go home.

When you finally finished collecting every last flier, you were prepared to get back into the groove of things before feeling your phone vibrate in the side pocket of your backpack. Wondering if it was something important, you took it out and beamed at the idea of it being a new message from Yeonjun.

Dating him felt like falling in love with him all over again whenever he texted. Your heart would pound in your chest when you thought about him and explode whenever he gave you his attention and time. You were addicted to him, especially knowing that he was yours after liking him since middle school.

So to say you were disappointed was far worse than an understatement. It was from a number you hadn’t saved yet always recognized and undoubtedly remembered by heart.

Of course it was Haechan.

You had Haechan’s phone number due to previous class projects and group chats, but you had never once saved it because you thought he was undeserving of being a contact in your phone. Nonetheless, with how the years have passed and how much his number infiltrates every group chat you were in, it was only fair that your brain had unintentionally memorized all ten digits.

The message he sent consisted of him saying that he was done with the fliers, and you rolled your eyes. Even after the way he treated you earlier, he still chose to let you know and brag about how fast he was.

You shoved your phone away vigorously, ready to return to your slapping-fliers-on-walls duty, before perking at the sound of footsteps behind you once more.

Automatically assuming it was Nagyung or another student staying after for a club or sport, you were stunned when you heard his voice.

“You’re not even halfway yet?”

In no fucking universe are you turning around; not for him.

“Go gloat somewhere else,” you snapped. The next flier you taped up was nearly slammed onto the wall, but Haechan was left unphased by your sudden outburst. He stood next to you and remained quiet, even when you left to place the next flier a few feet away on the opposite wall.

When he didn’t follow, you sighed out of relief, yet somehow you couldn’t help but peek at him, eyeing his hands that were tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants. He was staring straight at the lopsided flier you had put up, and when you decided you had enough of peering at him, he was back by your side.

“What are you doing?” you grumbled. He was the one who pushed you away, yet now here he was, glued to your side like how he was two months ago.

“You’re taking too long.”

“I had a mishap,” you explained, “but that’s none of your concern.” The lines on your forehead bunched up, and you waved him off, bending down to place the stack on the ground. Figuring it wasn’t weird at all, you continued your method of ripping off pieces of tape and slapping it onto your wrist.

And Haechan was totally judging.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Just go home.”

Despite being on the ground and sitting on your heels, you could physically feel the heat on the back of your head due to his eyes burning a hole into your skull, and for a split second, you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“I can do it myself,” you explained.

“What are you even doing?”

“Can you just go?” You picked up the stack once again as you rose to your feet, doing your best to avoid whatever look was on Haechan’s face. He was probably stifling a laugh or keeping his expression smug, but when you did cave and peek, his face was still solemn, his eyes on your wrist with concern.

“You’re struggling.”

“Thank you for your observation, Mr. Obvious,” you retorted.

“Let me do it.”

Taken aback, you whipped your head over to his direction.

“You’re kidding.”

“You don’t even want to be here,” he reasoned through gritted teeth. “Just go, and you can thank me later.”

“Thank you?!” Appalled at his audacity, you couldn’t help but laugh out of disbelief. “Seriously, Haechan? You want me to thank you for stealing my job? Again? You can’t be fucking serious.”

“Because you can’t take any criticism ever, or in this case, any form of help, so just let me do it.”

Haechan was eerily calm about the whole ordeal, his energy far from matching yours.

“I do take help,” you refuted. “I just don’t take yours, and neither do I need it, too.”

“You’re so goddamn stubborn.” And within a blink of an eye, he had managed to snatch the stack of fliers from you.

“Hey!” you yelled, feeling as if it was deja vu from earlier (you really needed to step up your defense), and reached out to take them back, but he was quick to turn his body, shielding them from you.

“Give me the tape and go,” he urged, emotionless. The Haechan in front of you now was someone you truly didn’t recognize because the Haechan you knew would have made fun of you and held the fliers above your head, teasing you for being so weak.

Yet he stood still, creating a barrier between you and the duty that was forced upon you. You didn’t want to be here anyway, yet you were so insistent on making sure Haechan wasn’t stealing your work again. You weren’t incapable, and you hated how he always managed to be faster.

Even now, he was miles away from being playful with you, and yet he still had a way to shove it in your face.

“Haechan, I swear—”

“Give me the tape, and you can run off to your little boyfriend waiting for you by the entrance.”

Your lips parted at his words, eyes wide as you worked to comprehend his words. You questioned how he knew about Yeonjun’s whereabouts, how he knew that Yeonjun was waiting and that you didn’t, but knowing that he was serious, you reluctantly gave up and dropped the roll of tape on the ground, forcing him to pick it up.

You were sick of constantly arguing with him, and even if he was lying about Yeonjun, at least you would be away from Haechan. There was no point in fighting for your dignity anymore, not when Haechan’s narcissism was insufferable.

By walking away with heavy and quick strides, you hoped he felt humiliated by how poorly he was treating you—how he had always treated you like this.

As much as you wanted it to be true, you hoped Haechan was lying just so you had more evidence against his self-absorbed and shitty personality, but alas, you found Yeonjun standing precisely where Haechan said he was.

Regardless, all stress and frustrations had lifted from your being, and you called out to your boyfriend with a smile that would make your cheeks ache in minutes.

“Junnie!” You waved your hands with a small bounce in your steps as you rushed over to him.

Your boyfriend’s head shot up, surprised to see you. His utter shock quickly switches to one of sheer happiness, tucking his device away before opening his arms for you.

“Hey, baby!”

You tossed yourself into his embrace, hugging him tight after pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“What are you doing here?” With your face in his neck, your voice came out muffled, and it made Yeonjun laugh.

“Had to stay after to discuss my grades with a teacher, then I decided to stay back a bit for you.” He cooed and kissed the top of your head, holding you incredibly close. When you pulled back, his hands had moved from behind your backpack to your hips instead, holding them as you stared up at him.

“You were waiting for me?” you asked, eyes wide with stars in them.

“Of course I was, baby.”

You were radiating, feeling happier than ever. The last time you saw Yeonjun was a week ago, and with your clashing schedules, you two very rarely get the opportunity to make plans. Your hands rested atop his shoulders, and when he pulled you in for a kiss, you smiled.

But then it fell.

Something felt off.

If someone were to inquire Haechan about who his heart belonged to, your name would be his answer—whether he intended to say it or not.

Haechan had always been considered the school’s favorite. His intelligence may not be up to par with others, but his authority was what made him a prominent member of your high school. Some blame it on his looks, but most were aware enough to know that wasn’t the case.

Haechan knew how to think on his feet, and his problem-solving skills outwitted everyone within his grade level. Reaching tranquillity had never been an issue for him, allowing him to be levelheaded while making decisions. He emitted an aura that made classmates truly listen to him and the ideas he shared, and overall, it made him a great contender to lead every group and organization he was in.

Additionally, Haechan’s heart was what won over most people. His lack of vulnerability seemed to be his only flaw, but it was an obstacle he could overlook when it came to empathizing with others. By actively being involved in the community through volunteering and holding fundraisers, everyone could recognize Haechan’s devotion to hope for humanity.

All these traits were what led Haechan up onto the pedestal and the public eye, a household name for all families in the district. Titles and awards naturally gravitated towards him throughout the years, resulting in him winning the vote as president of your school’s student council and enough scholarships to provide him a full ride at most universities.

It was safe to say that competition against Lee Haechan was sparse, and you were no different.

Your grades would teeter around his standard, hence how you two collectively ended up in the same classes, but aside from that, you had nothing else that could compare to what he was capable of.

Except for one thing; your fury.

There was an inferno inside you at all times, and instead of your body shielding off your heart with steel, people around you would come to find out that your heart was the reason for that large blaze of fire, possessing a passion unlike any other.

Haechan had never once seen a peer with as much fight as you. It was a trait only you encapsulated, one that you weren’t afraid to express. You stood up for yourself and your beliefs, and it was easy to pick fights with him when he had been troubling you from the very moment you two were assigned to sit next to each other in seventh-grade algebra.

Haechan yearned for you ever since, his only want being your attention. You gave him the drive to succeed in high school and thrive in his senior year, and he was positive that he wouldn’t be doing this well without a reason to show off in front of you. He wanted your praise, your acknowledgment, but he loved the chase the most.

Unfortunately, that was the exact reason he ended up here.

The chase was what made him fall for every part of you, wanting nothing more than your lips on his and the ability to have you by his side at all times, but it was also what landed you with your current boyfriend.

It was like his life was a video game with God giving him the hardest difficulty setting by making sure you were obsessed with someone undeserving of all that he wanted. There wasn’t even a chance of you two possibly being friends in your eyes. Meanwhile, Haechan would argue that you two had more chemistry than any other couple in your class, but that hope was crushed, shredded, and stomped on when he found out you still devoted your love to Yeonjun.

Regardless, it didn’t change who you were as a person. Your heart was still just as large and beautiful, and your drive to succeed hadn’t lessened. The bickering never faltered, and it wasn’t like Haechan was opposed whenever you expressed disgust at the thought of him being turned on because of you (and that was because he found the idea of you thinking about him hot—yes, his expectations were that low).

So it was why after two months of almost zero to no contact, you treating him as if those months didn’t exist created the largest dilemma he had ever faced. He spent the next week thinking about your intentions and why you seemed to care so much, specifically right after when Haechan had willed himself to believe that he meant jackshit to you. You effortlessly toyed with his heart, leaving him in everlasting misery, while you seemed to do completely fine.

What was a typical and ideal lifestyle for you was a nightmare and tormenting hellhole for Haechan. He didn’t just crave the warmth and comfort from your undying flames.

He wanted to burn.

Insanity engulfed him on the days spent without you, leaving him to wonder why you had to make things extensively worse by pointing out his absence or how he had put less effort into his hair. Why did it seem like the concern you expressed was genuine? Why pretend that you cared for him as much as he cared for you?

He was going insane—so insane that he drove to a college party with three other friends in his sedan on a Wednesday night.

It was being held by a fraternity he and his friends were far more than familiar with thanks to Jaehyun, an upperclassman he met in his sophomore year and remained friends with since then. The beginning of the senior year marked the origin of parties and hook-ups in weak sporadic attempts to get over you.

At this rate, Haechan could argue that he was more experienced than half of the current college freshmen class. Getting girls in bed was the easiest part; the hardest part was forgetting about you. From what was a method created to move on from you became one that prepared him for when you wanted sex with him.

But with your constant longing for Yeonjun, Haechan made sure that this party would be different.

Although accustomed to having sex with various women, Haechan had never been one to drink. This was a fact about him that raised eyebrows, specifically Jaehyun’s when he first tried urging Haechan with a drink, but tonight he vowed to change that. He was normally their designated driver, but when Haechan informed Mark of his plan, the elder was more than delighted to remain sober so Haechan could get a taste of alcohol.

“Hey, man! It’s about time!” Jaehyun exclaimed the instant he found out about Haechan’s willingness to drink, pulling a fresh bottle out of the cooler specifically for his friend.

“That’s what I told him!” Mark projected his voice over the music, giving Haechan a supportive pat on the back.

Haechan rolled his eyes at his friends’ remarks and thanked Jaehyun for the beer, hanging around by the counter as the three conversed and caught up. The two laughed at the way Haechan’s face scrunched up at the taste, Mark shoving him lightly with the claim that Haechan was being overdramatic.

With his earlier mindless decision of tossing on a mesh long-sleeve shirt over his black tank top, Haechan had attracted another partygoer by his side momentarily after his first sip. She wrapped her arms around one of his and inserted herself into the conversation with hopes of getting Haechan in bed by the end of the night, and crazily enough, he considered it for a moment before feeling his phone vibrate in his back pocket.

Normally it would be something he’d ignore, but it remained persistent, signifying that he was receiving a call. He didn’t know who would be calling at this hour—well, aside from Sunwoo and his usual complaints about Haechan partying as a high schooler on a school night.

After setting the glass down on the counter to grab his phone, any urgency to intoxicate himself as quickly as possible vanished the very second he saw your name glowing on his screen. With an awkward retraction of his arm and a forced cough, Haechan excused himself and answered the call.

“Hello?”

With music pounding inside his ear canals, it was expected that he couldn’t hear anything you were saying. He navigated through various crowds to reach the entrance of the house, his heart replicating the booming vibrations from the loudspeakers as he prayed that you wouldn’t hang up on him.

“Okay, I…I should be free now,” he stammered after stepping outside. The sudden stillness of Mother Nature was a drastic change from the party scene, coercing him to focus on his racing heartbeat and the anxiety accumulating in his tightening chest. He was breathing heavily, both from pushing through people in a rush and also because of you.

You never failed to render him weak and helpless, leaving him like a puppy longing for their owner’s guidance.

There was a silence, but he could hear your gentle breaths hitting your phone.

“I need a ride.”

Haechan blinked, his body tensing up, as the many thoughts in his brain scrambled to make meaning of what you meant. However, it didn’t matter because you hung up shortly after, leaving him alone to revel in your words.

Your bluntness and suddenty made Haechan malfunction, his thoughts leading him to question if he had even heard you correctly. Rarely did you ever reach out to him, and what could you need him for? Especially after lashing out at him and ignoring him for two months? Of course, there was that one day a week ago when you two were forced to talk together, the day he was given a one-day suspension, but you two returned to treating each other like strangers like it was natural.

He stared at his phone in hopes of receiving more information, that you’d perhaps call again to reconfirm or say you had the wrong number. He felt like he was dreaming—that the person he had wanted for so long needed him for once, but he couldn’t help but also believe that this may be the beginning of another nightmare.

But it was you, and Haechan was willing to risk it.

After checking his call logs to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, he rushed back into the fraternity house, thankful he didn’t proceed with drinking any more than he did.

He found everyone exactly where he had left them (the girl included) and announced his departure. The girl made sure Haechan knew how disappointed she was, but that was his last concern as he grabbed the beer bottle and handed it to Mark, giving him a pat on the back.

“Drink up and find an Uber.”

“No fucking way you’re leaving us this soon, man.” Jaehyun shook his head in disapproval, his forearms resting against the countertop.

“Another time, I promise, yeah?” Haechan started walking away, waving to them as his heart continued to thrum in his chest.

“He’s lying,” Mark snorted, taking a swig before bidding Haechan a bitter goodbye. “You owe me!"

Haechan ran out of the house, his legs making quick and long strides as he ran to his parked car down the block. His newfound adrenaline made him think about what he was sacrificing to be with you. Was leaving the party and betraying his friends worth spending even a second with you? What if you were asking him to drive you and your boyfriend somewhere? Could his heart even deal with being used like that?

But as much as Haechan hated it, he knew he was making the right choice. The self-respect he had for himself was buried six feet deep beneath the surface of the earth when it came to you.

God, he really hoped he wasn’t hallucinating.

For a split second, Haechan truly debated what he was doing after getting into his car. He was already driving, but he didn’t know where to go. Luckily, it didn’t take you long to send him a text with your location, and it was a place he was familiar with.

It was a park that he often frequented as a kid since it resided by his old neighborhood, and he was thankful he knew exactly where to go because he knew he would’ve definitely crashed the car while pulling up your location on his GPS. Haechan was doubtful it was the alcohol in his system making his fingers shake and his mind uneasy. He blamed you for his hysteria, one that had developed over years of endless longing.

Luckily the drive wasn’t long thanks to the roads being mainly void of other vehicles (and maybe he did speed a few times, but he considered it justified). Before pulling into the parking lot, he spotted a lone figure curled up on a nearby bench. A small weight had been lifted off of him, relieved it was just you, and he parked aimlessly while his eyes rested on you.

You seemed unphased by his added presence, your arms unmoving as they stayed wrapped around your legs. The bench you were sitting in was facing away from the parking lot, but with his headlights illuminating the view in front of you, you certainly had to know he was there.

In an ideal world, Haechan would leave his car, join you by your side, and, if he was lucky, he’d pull you into his arms and hold you close against his chest. He wanted to be there for you in whatever way he could, but he ended up being a deer in headlights, too afraid to make the wrong move and lose you again.

He sat there for a minute, watching you, and as soon as he received the confidence to reach for the handle of his door, you were up on your feet. His fingers paused midair as he traced your movements, his arm eventually falling to his side as you approach his car.

Despite how slow his mind was working, Haechan knew to unlock the car right as you opened it (he would’ve died out of embarrassment if he had forgotten), and neither of you greeted the other.

Without any explanation from you, Haechan refrained from staring at you like he normally would, but your outfit made it incredibly difficult. It wasn’t much, just an oversized long-sleeved shirt that reached your thighs, but it was far from the usual clothes he’d seen you wear, like jeans and a nice-fitting blouse. For a moment, he believed you had no pants on, but then he knocked some sense into himself, realizing that you were probably wearing shorts that were hidden.

While Haechan attempted to keep his composure and respect your boundaries, you were eyeing him shamelessly, once again analyzing every detail about him. Beads of sweat pooled up on the back of his neck, and his hair was straightened yet fuzzy. As your eyes trailed downwards, you noticed how the mesh hugged his biceps, catching every crease that defined his muscles. He was quiet, his index finger resting against his lips.

Where did he even come from?

And why was he so quick to listen?

You held back your tongue from dumping out your thoughts, knowing your questions would end up unanswered like before. Your body instinctively rested against the divot between the car door and your seat, keeping your distance from Haechan. He was meant to be a stranger, perhaps someone you loathed, yet there was an odd comfort that encased you from him just sharing the same air as you.

You cleared your throat, turning your head to look away when he flinched and snapped his gaze towards you.

“Drive.”

Your demand was no louder than a whisper, but Haechan picked it up effortlessly and was already backing out.

“Where to?”

“Anywhere.” Haechan raised a brow at your answer, and you buried yourself further into his seat, directing your gaze out the door. “Just-...anywhere, Hyuck.”

The nickname had his throat tightening and his chest leaping, nodding in your direction as he drove on autopilot. With no destination in mind, he strolled through familiar roads, his fingers tapping against the wheel.

You stayed silent, creating a tension that was unbearably thick, yet none of you felt the need to leave; neither of you wanted to leave the other, even if it meant having to deal with the looming elephant in the room (or in this case, Haechan’s car).

After spotting the recreational center from afar and its empty parking lot, he instinctively pulled in. There wasn’t a proper explanation for why he decided it’d make a great destination, especially when it was the place that created a rift in your relationship with him, but it felt right.

It was empty, open, and serene—a perfect place to stay as the moon shined.

Haechan stepped out of the car after parking in the middle of it, and when you didn’t follow, he moved to your side and opened the door. He was hesitant but took the risk of offering his hand to you, a warm, nervous smile on his face. He wanted you to know he was there to listen, to be there for you, because, Lord, he would hand you the world if he could.

“I’m not in the mood for walking,” you mumbled, but Haechan shook his head.

“We’re not going to walk, I promise.”

Your eyes flickered up to his briefly, skeptical of what he had planned, but ultimately caved. You ignored his hand, and he pulled it back with regret. When you stood there, your eyes on the sky, he closed the door behind you and guided you to the hood of his car.

Without a second thought, he sat on top of it and gestured for you to do the same.

“I sit here all the time. Helps me think.” He leaned back against his windshield, his hands holding the back of his head as he kept his eyes on the sky. When you didn’t move, he started to feel stupid, wondering if you two were better off in the car, but then you joined him.

You copied his position, staring upwards as your hands rested over your abdomen.

Haechan opted to keep to himself, deciding that he didn’t want to make this worse for the two of you. Instead, he fixated his thoughts on the stars in the sky.

There were only a few, but it was a rare sight due to the constant air pollution in your city, so he considered it a miracle. You, on the other hand, were spacing out in thought, and Haechan could tell through his occasional peeks. Without much control, his eyes started tracing down your arms. They then landed on where the hem of your shirt rested, now looking at your bare thighs.

Feeling as if he just reverted back to being the shyest virgin in the country, he gulped and immediately looked elsewhere, trying to get you off his mind despite you being right next to him. His racing heart was all that he could hear, and now he wondered if you could hear it too—if you knew how much you affected him.

And your voice broke the silence.

“How long have you known?”

Okay, maybe his brain did fall out of his skull because Haechan had no idea what you were talking about. He turned his head and caught how you stared up at the sky. Your eyes were glossy, holding the reflections of the whole galaxy within them. They sparkled, and for a beat, Haechan had forgotten your question, too infatuated with your beauty.

His silence resulted in you turning your head, gaze meeting his, and that was when he noticed the tears.

“About Yeonjun and Nagyung.”

Your light, your flames, his burning desire; all were gone in a flash.

Your voice was delicate, and Haechan knew that with one move, he could break you.

Directing his gaze heavenward, Haechan sighed and brought his arms down to rest over his chest. Somehow he was able to feel all the pain you were experiencing, his heart twisting while his stomach churned and sloshed around in his body. He thought about how to respond as he chewed on the inside of his lip, questioning if he should answer at all to avoid hurting you.

But you asked, and as always, Haechan delivered.

“I don’t think I ever really knew until last week,” he explained, “but I could always tell.” Suddenly, the fight from a week ago had resurrected, and Haechan was forced to relive it all.

The hallways were empty when Haechan left the broadcasting room, a backpack strap slung over his shoulder while the other dangled behind him. He was in the middle of scrolling through his emails when he picked up on the sound of Yeonjun’s voice around the corner.

His footsteps halted, and Haechan caught Yeonjun’s fatal words.

“How does tomorrow sound?”

Nagyung’s squeals followed after, and Haechan stood motionless.

At first, Haechan had no thoughts circulating in his brain, but after hearing their lips collide, he started coming up with solutions, such as interrupting or taking a video to send to you. Unfortunately, before he could act on either of them, he heard footsteps dashing off, practically skipping, as the two bidded one another goodbye.

Haechan couldn’t pinpoint the reasoning behind his upcoming actions, but he knew how to describe how he felt.

Anger was the first and only emotion to surge up within him, his fingers instinctively balling up into fists. His muscles had tightened while a forest fire ran rampant through his veins, causing his blood to boil.

Then with quick strides, Haechan shoved his phone away and made a sharp turn around the corner, tossing his backpack on the ground after spotting Yeonjun against the lockers. The latter had a dazed look on his face, his lips curled into a smirk as he typed away on his phone, but that was changed once he looked up at the sound of Haechan’s backpack crashing against the ground in front of him.

There wasn’t a second in between Yeonjun’s face of surprise and Haechan’s arm being raised, and before Yeonjun could react, Haechan’s fist had slammed into his jaw.

It was a blur from there, but Haechan knew he had won even after authorities dragged him off Yeonjun’s body. He had received a few jabs in return, but it was nothing compared to the black eye Haechan gave him.

The fact that Yeonjun managed to cover it up with makeup the day after was a miracle, and no one in the school knew about the fight since it happened after school. Haechan wanted it to stay that way, but a selfish, cruel part of him wished that everyone knew how sick your boyfriend was.

Well, now he was unsure if he was still your boyfriend.

Haechan turned his head back towards you, his cheek meeting the cold metal of his car.

You pursed your lips at his response and nodded slowly. If it were any other day, you wouldn’t have believed him. There was no universe where you’d choose to listen to Haechan over Yeonjun, but after a week of investigating and getting your head out of your ass, you found out on your own terms, and all the pieces made sense.

“I didn’t mean to.”

Haechan’s voice jerked you out of your thoughts, and as you adjusted to look back at him, you were surprised to still find him staring at you.

“I’m not a violent person, Y/N,” he whispered, an enduring hope lingering in his eyes. He wanted you to believe him, and for once, you did; you truly understood the man you hated most.

“I know, Hyuck.”

Haechan eased at your words, and the two of you fell back into a more comfortable yet aching silence. His fingers drummed against his abdomen, and after a while, he got sick of looking at the same four stars, so he closed his eyes, focusing on enjoying the light breeze instead. His heart was still racing, but it was less alarming. Regardless, he hated knowing that he potentially contributed to how much you were hurting right now.

Maybe if he had done something to prevent it earlier, whether it be telling you as soon as he found out or keeping completely out of your business so you could live in bliss, or, if he wasn’t so scared, he could’ve asked you to be his far before Yeonjun had. Maybe it wouldn’t have changed much, but Haechan would never know since he never tried, and now he was going to beat himself over it because now you’re devastated over losing your boyfriend and it was potentially his faul—

You laughed.

Haechan snapped his head towards you, his brows raised at your sudden change in mood—but it wasn’t the type of laugh he expected. Your laugh was one filled with pain, and he watched you shake your head, trying to refuse the tears that were rapidly welling up in your eyes once more. You sniffed and wiped the tears away with the back of your hand, choosing to look in the opposite direction because the last thing you wanted was for Haechan to see you vulnerable.

“It’s stupid,” you murmured. “This entire thing is stupid. I’m so fucking dumb.”

His lips parted to interject, to tell you that you were, in fact, ‘not dumb,’ but he clamped his mouth shut, knowing that his words probably wouldn’t help. From what he’d learned in the past, you liked it least when he tried telling you otherwise, no matter the situation.

“I should’ve known. I did know. The whole world knew. Even you knew, but it makes me think, was Nagyung just flocking around, flaunting to everyone that she had a crush on my boyfriend and managed to win him over? I just—I…I don’t know-...” You paused to catch your breath, beginning to choke on your tears as your chest shook, “I don’t know what I did wrong, you know?”

You shut your eyes, allowing the pain to engulf you. You knew fully well that your punishment was to deal with the pain, but you felt like you didn’t deserve it—that you deserved none of this. Why was this a penalty for being in love?

It was humiliating having everyone witness the reality you shielded from yourself, choosing hope and love over the truth.

“I just never felt more stupid in my life, and I feel even more stupid knowing that I still love him.”

Haechan sucked in his lips, gnawing on them as he bit back all his feelings, from his brain shredding to his heart weeping.

“I love him so much that I would let him do it to me all over again because I keep thinking he’d be better. I know he can be better, so why-...It’s just- Why do I do this to myself?”

Tears cascaded down your cheeks, each one leaving behind a trail for others to fall. They started pouring out of you rapidly, soon sobbing at the heart-wrenching pain of being betrayed by everyone in your life, Haechan included, because why, out of everyone, was he here for you when he should be the last person who cared?

You always wanted Haechan to be the antagonist of your life story, to have him as your biggest enemy and threat, so why was everyone else but him hurting you? Why was the villain of your fantasy taking the role of your knight in shining armor?

And yet, as much as it pained Haechan to process all your emotions, his mind wasn’t running correctly; he had you alone for the first time in months. He wanted nothing more than to pull you in his arms and whisper words of comfort in your ears, knowing you deserved it more than anyone, but he also wanted to shake you awake and slap you out of your misery, praying that you’d forget about Yeonjun; that right now, you being vulnerable was his chance to swoop in, to set whatever you wanted him to into flames, as long as if it meant you’d end up okay.

You sat up because if you lied down any longer, you would’ve started drowning in your own tears. Your sleeves were soaked, and he sat up alongside you, figuring that he should do something about it.

Haechan got back onto his feet and stood in front of you. He barely knew what he was doing, but that didn’t stop him from replacing your sleeves with his cold, clammy hands over your cheeks. There wasn’t a time that Haechan could recall where he had been this gentle with someone, and when you didn’t push him away, he tilted your head up to look at him.

Even with tears running down your cheeks, you looked angelic as ever.

Each droplet mirrored a star from the sky, and your eyes sparkled as they stayed locked on his.

“Take me,” you whispered, and Haechan’s whole world stopped.

“...What?” Haechan had only intended to wipe your tears away with the pads of his hands, perhaps whisper something along the lines of him being here for you for the night (and the rest of his life, let’s be honest), yet your first words were—no, he had to have been hallucinating.

Your hands trembled as they reached for his wrist, and although you were severely broken, the grip your fingers created was firm.

“Please.”

Like a moth to a flame, Haechan admired how pretty you looked, your lips plump and eyes wide, and he wanted nothing more than to take you into his backseat and treat you the way he’d always wanted to, especially after hearing your pleas, but he knew better. You both knew better.

“What exactly are you implying?” he asked, feeling like you had just inhaled all his oxygen and left him breathless.

You released his wrist and opted to hold onto his sleeve, tugging on it as you tried to get him to understand you.

“I want it to hurt, Donghyuck.”

Your tears were gone, and there was a hint of dominance in your tone that would’ve had him dropped to his knees in front of you. You were also one of the very few who resorted to calling him Hyuck, and now his actual name. He favored Haechan, but after hearing ‘Donghyuck’ from your lips, his preference had completely made a turnaround.

But Haechan worked to collect his thoughts, fully aware that this was wrong and he’d have to be the bigger person here. As much as he hated himself for giving up the perfect opportunity to have the girl of his dreams, he couldn’t ignore the large concern over your current mental state.

“You’re not thinking straight, Y/N,” he reasoned softly, his fingers reaching up to brush your hair out of your face, and for a second, Haechan swore he felt the alcohol kicking in—or perhaps it was you instead. The thought of being able to have you right now, to touch you and press his hands over your skin, to have you as his for just this night, was so intoxicating that he was seconds away from foaming at the mouth.

“I don’t need to think straight. I don’t want to think at all.”

Everything felt hotter and tighter, but he kept his composure, though with his eyes dropping to your begging lips and then your delicate fingers, he knew he was beginning to lose whatever was left of his sanity.

But he also knew you were using him; you had to be. There was no other explanation. It was only minutes ago when you professed how you continued to feel about Yeonjun—that your heart still belonged to him, and Haechan was allowed nowhere near it. He was your backup, your second option, yet that happened to be better than nothing, right?

Especially when he could have you right here, right now.

“You’re using me.”

Your expression didn’t falter.

“Then say no. Make us go back into your car and drive me home.” Your hand dropped from holding onto his sleeve but that was so you could wrap your arms around his neck, slowly bringing yourself closer to him. His cheeks were flushed as his mind flooded with possibilities of what could happen. Never had you ever wanted him, and he’d been dreaming of a moment like this for years. Your tear-stained cheeks, your pouty red lips—he wanted all of you.

“But you won’t,” you whispered, your breath hitting his skin. Your eyes landed on his lips, now craving him as much as he craved you. You needed a release, an outlet, to justify Yeonjun being better than Haechan. Haechan was worse in every way possible, and you wanted him to prove that to you. “You’d do anything I’d say, wouldn’t you?”

“What makes you say that?” Little did you know Haechan was crumbling inside, completely melting as his fingers grew weak at the idea of your lips on his. His hands, although wary, traveled to your waist, feeling your curves before trailing his hands down to your hips to grip them.

“You love me, don’t you?”

His heart stuttered, all words caught up in his throat, but he knew there was no defending himself—not when he was practically drooling at every move you made; he was hyperaware of the hand playing with the hair on his nape, the way your lips nearly hovered over his, and how your tears glistened under the moonlight.

His entire existence was confirmation of your words, and you knew it.

“You’d do anything for me, Hyuck. What’s stopping you now?”

There was a stillness as you two stared at one another. He swallowed and pulled slightly back.

He knew better.

“You don’t want me.” He was brokenhearted, a part of him understanding that you’d never be his, yet he wanted you in so many ways, wishing to have your mewls fill his ears and the smell of sex staining his clothes. The bulge in his pants was forming and pressing up against the tight confinement, making him groan.

He dropped his head downwards, his forehead leaning to rest against yours, as he closed his eyes and did his best to regulate his breathing—repeating in his head and out loud, again.

He knew better.

“You’re using me.”

You both knew better.

Yet with your lips ghosting his and your eyes half-hooded, you were prepared to give into the dark side.

“And I say take advantage of it.”

Haechan dived and pressed his lips onto yours, hunger driving his every movement. There was no stopping when he felt your lips curling up into a grin, his hands shifting to wrap around your torso to drag you closer. His heart burst at how perfectly his lips molded with yours, and it seemed as if there was fire shooting up into the sky and exploding—they weren’t fireworks, and the explosion was far bigger and more dangerous. It lit the entirety of the sky, the moon and stars included, into flames, a desire unlike any other.

Your left hand pressed firm against the back of his neck while the other traveled through his hair. Meanwhile, his hands had snuck beneath your shirt and felt for your lower back. Heavy breaths left the two of you as desperation crept through your veins, dictating your every movement.

The cold touch from his hands ignited your nervous system, every sense activated and overstimulated by Haechan as you released a breathy moan into his mouth.

You didn’t want him, but fuck, you needed him.

When you would pull back, his lips would chase yours, and you two fell into an endless cycle. He couldn’t even fathom how you were pulling away for air when you were his oxygen. Maybe you weren’t oxygen itself, but the fumes you emitted had already replaced his need for air, deluding him into believing that you were what he needed to stay alive.

You were suffocating, toxic, and destructive, and he wanted more.

After retracting from the kiss for the nth time, you turned your head to hold Haechan back from continuing. You both were panting, your cunt soaking, and he stared into your eyes like a puppy awaiting their next direction.

“Good boy,” you praised, and he laughed lowly and sheepishly, dropping his head as he processed what happened and the idea of it being potentially over.

“You’re lethal,” he breathed out.

“And you’re pitiful,” you spat. There was a playful grin on your lips, but those words ignited something within Haechan. He raised his head and cocked a brow at you, questioning your genuinity.

Just minutes ago you were crying over a guy that treated you terribly, and yet here you thought you had the authority to call him weak.

Perhaps he was; he was falling deeper into your pitless trap, enticed with every movement of yours, but he knew for a fact you weren’t any better than him.

You both were sick in the head for falling for people that treated the other like shit, yet your drive, your fuel, to win over the hearts of the people you loved was so strong, and it made you two unstoppable.

Haechan would punch Yeonjun all over again if he could.

Without a second thought, Haechan ducked his head down and ruthlessly attached his lips to your neck, eliciting a gasp from you. He kissed your skin fervently, his fingers teasing the rim of your shorts, and your hands shifted to hold onto his shoulders for support. You found yourself tossing your head back, providing him more room to do as he pleased, that if Yeonjun were to see you with marks on your neck, then maybe he’d want you back.

“Bold of you to call me pitiful,” he grumbled, sucking onto your neck until a blot of purple began to form.

“But it’s true, no?”

“You’re just as bad, Y/N.” He licked a stripe up your neck and over the mark, and the sensation made you cringe, disgust itching at your skin due to being covered in his saliva, but you wanted more of it. You wanted Haechan to treat you like you were nothing, to treat you worse than Yeonjun ever had, so you could direct your blame over to Haechan instead of your unknowing boyfriend.

You turned your head and slotted your lips with his again, already addicted to how perfect they were for you. Haechan knew the exact way to kiss you, to keep you on your toes, as your slick pooled up in your underwear at the mere thought of Haechan touching you.

The kiss was eager, a fight for control, and when Haechan didn’t surrender, you raised your knee, forcing your thigh to brush up against his crotch.

He gasped at the sensation and pulled away, bangs hanging over his eyes as he looked down at the sight. You teased him by keeping your touches gentle, but you made sure to keep your leg moving. Nothing intrigued you more than seeing Haechan beg or rut against your thigh, further proof of how pathetic he was for you. You gained a sense of ego knowing that he could have any girl in the world, that he has had every girl, and yet he would always come back to you. Now that you had him, it would be harder for him to return to a life without you under him, moaning his name.

You wanted to be his downfall.

Your nails latched onto the mesh, taking note of how easily it would be to rip the material, before pressing your thigh firmly up against his dick, making him jerk.

“You’re-...oh my god, Y/N,” he gasped, breathless. His eyes meet your devious ones, how you were basically Satan himself, and somehow, someway, he wouldn’t ask for anything different. “You’re playing a losing…a losing- game.”

“What more do I have left to lose?” There was some truth in your words as vulnerability struck you. Your leg then lowered as you regained a slight sense of reality, realizing that you were forcing Haechan into being your selfish source of relief. You hated Haechan, sure, but you knew this was the last thing he deserved—to use him when he’d been nothing but accommodating to you.

And your sick and twisted plan was that after this encounter, you’d leave him to rot.

Haechan didn’t deserve that at all.

But Haechan was already too far gone, too intoxicated, to even consider the repercussions of how he’d end up after this. The loss of contact with his crotch was what had him picking you up from his car, the tips of his fingers digging into your thighs, as he led you to the backseat.

Your eyes widened, your senses fully back, but you made him like this, and you were going to pay for it. Although scared for about what’s to come, the anticipation had you drooling, your lips pressing fierce kisses onto his skin while he opened the door with you in his arms.

He laid you down gently and crawled over you, keeping you trapped between his arms.

“This is what you wanted, right? For me to tear you apart until you can run back to Yeonjun and justify how poorly he treats you?”

Your brows bunched up at his words, your legs getting antsy being under him. There was no answering him, not when Haechan already knew how you were going to respond.

He brought one of his hands into your shorts and made the aggravating decision to slide his fingers over your underwear, depriving you of contact with his fingers.

Yet even with your underwear being a divider, he found your clit with ease and immediately started rubbing circles into the bud, making you buck your hips with a whine. The friction of the cloth was something you were unfamiliar with, and lord did it mess with you.

“You want me to treat you how he sees you? Worthless and undeserving of respect?” He flicked your clit and kissed your jaw. “If that’s what you want, that’s exactly what my princess is going to get.”

“Fuck,” you moaned, using your hands to push onto his shoulders and force him down. The drive to ride his tongue was strong, and if he kept teasing you, you would have lost it.

“I know you inside and out, Y/N. I know you better than him, and this is how you treat me.” He sucked in a cheek but ultimately decided to comply with what you wanted. He pulled off your shorts yet left your underwear on, and his brows raised. He wasn’t sure how his fingers had missed the texture of lace, but what you were wearing was certainly lingerie.

You looked down to see why he stopped, and when you realized why he froze, heat rose to your cheeks.

“I wanted to feel pretty,” you whispered, shutting your eyes after turning your head. It was embarrassing, now that you thought about it, but Haechan’s heart soared, and he wanted nothing more than for you to know how ethereal you looked.

But he shoved the feeling away, allowing his frustrations to get the better half of him.

When he pulled off your underwear, he cooed at how your essence oozed onto the material and raised the undergarment into the air, waiting for you to look.

“Did I do this?”

His mocking tone kept you from looking, but your curiosity got the best of you. You were met with the sight of a large wet, dark patch on your underwear, biting down on your lip as you looked at him with wide eyes. If you thought about it, you couldn’t remember the last time you felt like this, or if there ever had been a time when you craved someone this badly.

He tossed it to the side and his hands massaged your thighs, keeping them spread open so he got a proper view of your core on display for him. The sight truly stunned him, reminding him that this was you he fantasized about and replicated with other girls—no one else.

“Do you normally take this long?” you rasped, tossing your head back against the seat, and Haechan rolled his eyes.

“I do you a favor, and this is how you treat me.”

“A favor is a stretch—”

Haechan plunged two fingers into your mouth, having them press firmly down against your tongue. He latched onto your jaw and pulled your head forward and up towards him, having your eyes meet his.

“Remind me, Y/N, who was begging for this?”

He dropped your head back down against the seat before you could even respond and used whatever saliva accumulated in your mouth as temporary lube, figuring that your slick would help him with stretching you out. You grunted at the impact, feeling helpless, as Haechan finally inserted his fingers inside of you.

Haechan’s fingers were enough to have your eyes rolling, but it was the ring that he wore that stimulated you the most. You weren’t aware that he was even wearing one, yet the cold band against your raging wet heat made you whimper and desperately grasp for his hair.

“Donghyuck, please,” you begged.

He chuckled and kept his movements slow, forcing you to fuck yourself onto his fingers weakly. When you did, he was in awe at how stunning you looked, how you seemed to be in your own world, and how you were enjoying him. By curling his fingers, a moan was pulled from your throat, making your eyes open as you looked at him. You continued to pool around his fingers, your voice weakly begging for so much more than his fingers and the cold air that brushed against your skin.

Never had you felt more vulnerable, but Haechan never once made you feel like you were doing something wrong, making you cling desperately to him. You forced his face down into your crotch and jerked at the feeling of his nose brushing up against your clit.

“Shameless, aren’t you?” he commented, laughing lowly, but you were too out of it to care.

“Shut the-...F-fuck, oh my god.”

Your whines had gotten more incessant the more useless he became, his fingers now completely stilled inside of you as he watched you roll your hips with a cheeky grin. He wanted to drag this out for as long as possible, knowing fully well that he could last all night.

When he took out his fingers, you were yanked out of your bliss and nearly begged for him to put them back in, but before you could get a word out, he had replaced his digits with his tongue. Your slick was dripping onto his lips, and as he dragged his wet muscle up and down your folds, he made sure to collect a small puddle of you onto his tongue to eventually swallow, wanting to savor you.

“Oh-...Oh my god, Hyuck—” Your orgasm was approaching, unsure of how it was here so soon, but you recognized the signs from the coil in your chest tightening to losing every sensation to the man beneath you. You rocked your hips continuously onto his tongue, and his thumb attached to your clit, making you see stars with how rapid his movements were.

He pulled his face back and forced his fingers back into you, and the final curl was what made you reach your peak, your hips in the air as you cried out his name.

As you came down from your high, you caught a glance of the way Haechan was looking at you; to him, you were otherworldly, and it was a sight he’d never forget. He wondered if Yeonjun ever saw you like this, if he ever made you feel this way, and suddenly his admiration had soured and contoured to something of darkness, rid of any empathy as he now looked at you with some form of disgust.

“All this for me, and you still have the fucking audacity to choose him.”

The mention of Yeonjun had your eyes wide open, tears reappearing at the mention and while being in your most vulnerable state. Your legs shook from the aftermath, feeling too weak to continue, yet Haechan seemed to have other plans.

Instead of shoving his fingers back into either of your mouths, he hovered over you and made sure you saw the way he dragged his fingers around your abdomen, drawing aimlessly over your skin with your essence before dragging a hand up to your breasts, massaging one of them as his other hand rested by your waist.

“Tell me, Y/N, did you buy this for him and never got to use it? That’s why you’re wearing it now with me? Am I your sloppy seconds?”

There was a slight growl under his tone, and while you shook your head subconsciously, he worked to remove your shirt, wanting a better look at your bra, before being met with a necklace you had been hiding; one with Yeonjun’s name.

And Haechan took no time breaking it from your neck.

Your jaw dropped, and you snapped out of your daze by sitting straight up, yet as you were about to yell at him for breaking your necklace, he shoved three fingers back into your pussy, shutting you up by having you moan at the intrusion.

“It looked cheap, anyway,” he muttered, forcing his mouth against yours momentarily to nip on your lower lip, tugging on it so your focus remained on him.

“That was—he’s mine,” you forced out, gasping at every thrust he made with his fingers, your sweet spot being abused as your hands latched onto his shoulders. You made sure your nails dug into his skin, wanting it to hurt, before pulling onto the mesh, wishing for it to tear.

“He’s not yours, princess. Tell me, how can you say that when his dick has been up other girls?” With his free hand, he grabbed your face and made sure you were staring straight at him before shoving it to the side.

“You need to fucking wake up and realize that you can dream all you want about how he’d react if he saw you hopping on my dick, but guess what? He wouldn’t care.” Haechan pulled out his fingers and left you alone in the backseat.

You sat there, a wreck and vulnerable, as you tried to catch your breath. You lay back on your forearms, curious eyes following his every movement.

“There’s a reason he hasn’t left you yet,” Haechan explained, opening the front door to his car to grab a condom and his phone. He tucked both into his back pocket before returning to you, bringing your lips to his before continuing to talk within the kiss.

“He’s stringing you along so you can boost his ego. He knows you will always be there for him, and you allow him to use you like that?”

You wrapped your fingers around Haechan’s neck, squeezing it before pushing it away to keep your distance, your frustration starting to grow.

“I’m beginning to think you’re all bark and no bite, Donghyuck,” you muttered, and with whatever strength you had left, you pushed him against the seat and got into his lap. Without hesitation, you started rocking your hips over his clothed dick, hoping your slick would seep in so he could feel you.

He hissed but allowed you to do as you pleased, his grip tight on your hips.

“I-...I think…if you asked me, you’re the one who’s projecting. I’m the one in a relationship, and you’re just a side piece.”

The speed of your hips increased, and Haechan felt ecstasy on the tip of his tongue, the confinements of his pants physically paining him the more you continued.

“You’re jealous, Hyuck. Just admit it.”

You pulled at his hair, loving the absolute control you had over him at that moment, but in one languid motion, Haechan managed to push you back down, this time with your stomach against the seats. You could feel your bodily fluids sticking to the nylon, and with how hard Haechan was pressing down into you, you were barely given a chance to move.

With one hand on your lower back, he kept you still as he took out both his phone and condom, making sure to place both on top of your bare skin.

“What’s there to be jealous of when you’re here under me? You want to be fucked stupid? Fine. Don’t fucking complain when you want me to be the villain.” You lurched at his words, refusing to let him win, but you were completely unable to do much damage as Haechan kicked off his pants and boxers while still keeping his weight on you.

He then picked up his phone and pulled up the camera, making sure to take a photo of you in his car before clicking record and tossing the phone onto the ground, hoping it was close enough to pick up on your sweet noises.

“Make sure to be loud for me, yeah? I’m sure Yeonjun would love it if I sent that video to him.”

“You wouldn’t fucking dare,” you bit back, your hand reaching out in an attempt to grab the device, but Haechan was quicker to grab your wrist, pinning it behind your back.

“I wouldn’t because I know how to appreciate what’s mine.” Haechan released his hold on you to roll on the condom, giving you the opportunity to move and take his phone as you pleased. To your dismay, there was no more effort left within you, only an ache to feel Haechan inside you.

“He appreciates me,” you mumbled, trying to convince yourself otherwise as you waited.

“Does he record you? Jerk off to your moans every night? Because I would, Y/N, just for you.” His voice was now by your ear, and when you turned your head to look at him, he pulled you into another hungry kiss, his dick now grazing against your hole.

“You’re fucking insane,” you bit back into the kiss, and he grinned against your lips, guiding his dick into you as he spoke.

“Psychotic, just for my princess.”

Venom laced his voice, dripping menacingly, and the insertion of his tip had you grasping for something in front of you, anything, and it was only then that you were able to process how thick his cock was.

“Can you take it?” he asked, his voice slightly softer than before. When you gave him a curt nod, he continued pushing in further. Maybe lube should’ve been an option, but you were so wet for him that it didn’t matter, knowing that the stretch probably would have hurt regardless.

“Fuck, fuck—he really doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Haechan gasped, his head resting against the back of yours. It was better than anything he’d dreamed of, better than any girl he imagined, because it was you, and your body was made for him.

“When was the last time he fucked you?” He was fully inside of you now, and when you didn’t answer, he decided to take it as a sign to move. With a firm grip on your waist, he pulled out just to slam back in, making you yell as you clawed at the seat, wishing there was something to bite on as you endured the pain that was quick to morph into pleasure.

Every glide pushed you further into the car, your forearms occasionally hitting the door, as his hips moved vigorously, working up to a pace that had you moaning without pause. Tears were flowing down your cheeks at the overwhelming pleasure of being manhandled—of being Haechan’s rag doll when he was meant to be yours, and your body seized up, being worked up to your orgasm once more with how precise each thrust seemed to be.

He adjusted to raise one of your legs to his hip, giving him a new angle to pound into you as he worships you with his dick, and you shook out of pleasure, whining as you saw white and reached your second orgasm for the night. You pulsated around his cock, strangled moans ripping from your throat as tears mixed with your drool by your chin.

And Haechan showed no signs of stopping.

He made sure to press your face down against the seats, wanting every liquid to fall and stain his car, giving him something to remember you by.

Oh, and there was the recording too.

While kneeling inside of the cramped car, he slowed his movements and inclined his torso towards you. In one swift motion, he wrapped his arm around your neck and pulled you up, locking you inside his elbow as he forced you to look into your reflection in the car window.

“Look at you, the school’s favorite slut. What happens if the recording drops? The whole school would know you’re mine, wouldn’t they?” He pressed his chest against your back, the mesh rubbing against your skin as his lips remained near your ear, forcing you to listen to every word.

You limped against him, your flames completely burnt out, and your fingers tugged onto the mesh around his arm, successfully ripping it after some time, but Haechan seemed unphased. In fact, it turned him on even more knowing that he had you locked in, that you were his.

“Look at your pretty cunt taking me in so well. It was so wet for me, wasn’t it? It still is. And guess what? You’re in my car. You belong to me, and my good girl is only now just finding out about it, isn’t she?”

“I-I’m…I’m not-...not yours,” you retaliated, creating red angry marks into his skin with your nails as you endured being used, stifling your moans as you looked at how wrecked you were, how bare you seemed to be compared to Haechan. You were much more of a mess, from your hair to the bruises on your neck. Your pussy kept tightening up around his dick, convulsing occasionally with every hit toward your g-spot, and you held onto Haechan each time.

Your head drooped down, thinking about how your heart ached for Yeonjun, yet the rest of your body was meant for Haechan.

“Whose fucking dick is inside of you right now?” He scoffed and pulled on your hair, forcing your head back up so he could directly speak into your ear. “Wake up, Y/N,” he demanded. “You’re mine.”

He dropped you back onto the seat like you were nothing, leaving you completely helpless, your throat void of any words as your eyes closed and met the back of your skull, too fucked out to communicate. You tried reaching for the door handle, just something to hold onto, yet you couldn’t.

“You tell me I’m pitiful, that I’m basically delusional when you’re going to be the reason my car will smell like sex for weeks.”

Your face was forced back into the puddle of liquid you created earlier, being shifted back and forth against the seat as if you were made for his dick and not vice versa.

“It’s crazy how pathetic you are, how willing you are to break yourself down in front of everyone just to have him. That-...fuck…that you’re so convinced he wants you and you two are soulmates.” He dragged his fingers through your hair and grabbed your roots. “You called me, you wanted me, and I have you right now, moaning my name, and you have nothing.”

Something about his words kept bringing out your orgasms, each thrust adding to the pleasure immensely. You didn’t know how much you could handle—afraid you may pass out from how much he was using you, from his tight grip around you to his dick hitting inside of you mercilessly.

Haechan whispering ‘I won, Y/N’ was what had you losing it, your high this time ending up stronger than the rest. You were fully crying now, and yet he continued as if you were nothing.

He peppered your shoulder with kisses and had the slight decency to slow his pace, but he also took note of your sobs.

“Don’t tell me you still want him,” he began rambling, his lips still on your shoulder. “Don’t tell me after this that your heart still belongs to him, because if that were the case, I’d make you call him right now. Say you wish it was him instead of me, and that he’s the love of your life while you’re stuffed with my dick. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You could no longer think, and what you hated most was how reactive your body was—how you were just able to come for the third time, but Haechan’s dick solely being inside you snapped some other straw you weren’t aware you had, finding that your last high was incoming.

Haechan had picked up the pace by then, and by knowing your body incredibly well, he reached down to your sensitive clit to relieve you. You both knew your fourth was incoming, and you held on tight to his arm.

“D-Dongh- hyuck, I’m—”

“Mine.”

You cried out, your entire body shaking, and Haechan pulled out, immediately releasing onto your back with a guttural moan after yanking off the condom. He was forced to catch his breath, watching you float in and out of consciousness.

Your eyes were closed, struggling to breathe through your sobs, and Haechan consoled you with a kiss on the back of your shoulder.

“You’re mine, Y/N, whether you like it or not.”

He then pressed a kiss to your cheek before leaving to grab paper towels from his trunk. You were heaving, still shaking, and left alone as a mess in his backseat, yet with him gone, you felt even more useless, wanting him back by your side instantly. You weakly cried out for him, your nails dragging against the seat in hopes of being in his arms soon, and maybe he was right.

Maybe you were his.

OUR INFERNO [ M.LIST | TWO ]

NAVIGATION — NCT DREAM

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