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jiminrings · 1 year

Text

pink sapphire

pairing: jungkook x reader

wordcount: 11k

glimpse: having jungkook for a husband is great as far as arranged marriages could go; he's easy to love. your relationship's perhaps become so easy that jungkook doesn't think sometimes — and that's what makes it the easiest for you to hate him.

alternatively, you and jungkook married each other for business, but the both of you stay for love.

[ angst, arranged marriage au, fluff n really wholesome scenes (it cancels out the angst i swear), Jungkook Tries Hard (affectionate), miscommunication, jealousy, self-deprecation, sexual innuendos (no actual smut here!!), did i already say that jungkook tries rlly hard and is remorseful the whole time ]

notes: my year-ender fic for 2022 :) thank u for being here — i'm grateful for all ur love n support!! i'll see u in the next one <3

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!!

Jungkook’s a vocal person.

Your husband does not leave a single thought unspoken, sometimes his thinkpieces too impulsive that when he says them in public, you try to play it off by either distancing yourself with him or from him.

“I think the world would be just fine even if all the bees disappear,” Jungkook once said to you with conviction, midway into chewing his cheeseburger. “There’s articles about it proving otherwise but they’re too long for my attention span, but yeah, I don’t think it would be that bad, y’know?” he giggles, looking up at the ceiling in serious thought. “If anything, the Bee Movie taught us that-…”

Jungkook yelps automatically when you pinch his thigh, your hand sternly gripping his knee like both your reputations depended on it (they really did). “Jungkook, we’re literally in a climate change gala right now.”

“I don’t think coffee’s ever that serious. Seriously, world barista championships? New techniques in supposedly making the best cup of coffee when you’re all just gonna shit it ten minutes later? It’s not that deep,” Jungkook once whispered to you in urgency, his annoyance through the roof. He’s glued to your side, intent on whispering all about his irritation.

“Jungkook, I’m begging you,” you wince, screwing your eyes shut and slowly moving the two of you to the far end of the room. “We were literally right next to your uncle whose new wife is the organizer for that very championship you’re shitting on.”

“We need to talk about the tote bag epidemic,” Jungkook once whisper-yelled to you in a rush, holding you by the arm because he just can’t contain his inner thoughts any longer. You’re thankful, sure, that you’re your husband’s go-to person for all of his random thoughts; it’s just that he picks the worst settings to tell them to you.“They look kinda tacky, everybody deludes themselves that they’re functional even if they have zero pockets, and-…”

“And you just offended atleast three different age groups and all of them are in this café. We need to leave.”

Jungkook’s endearing this way, raw and a tad bit annoying. He’s expressive as much as he’s vocal, his hand slotted on your waist like second nature to him. Being married to him isn’t bad. Sure, the circumstances of your union in the first place were for business anyway, but the both of you understood and agreed at the end of the day. By all means, he’s ideal — ideal until he opens his mouth when he’s sleeping.

If there’s anything that your two years of marriage (and counting) to Jungkook makes you realize, it’s that you should value your peace and sanity more than anything.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

Jungkook groggily asks you with one eye open, conveniently seeing you in the act of hovering around him with an ominous object in your hand. Maybe it’s the sleep in his eyes or the fog in his brain, but when you look at him like this– bothered and passionately frustrated, it makes him love you even more.

“No,” you mutter, the snoring mouth strip in your hands just begging to be put on already. “I’m trying to make you quiet.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

Perhaps it’s the sleep in your eyes or the fog in your brain, but you swear you just saw your husband crack a smirk despite keeping you up multiple nights a week, especially for the past month. He’s not endearing tonight, not at all.

“Isn’t marriage all about accepting each other’s flaws?” Jungkook frowns, about to turn on his side when you put your knee to block him.

“We’re arranged,” you deadpan. “I can’t accept you snoring with bass and reverb every night, Jungkook. I can barely sleep.”

“But didn’t you tell me you like it when I make noises?” Jungkook glares playfully. Bringing up your sex life with him out of the blue almost always does the trick, but it probably won’t work tonight now that you’re only awake and breathing heavily from sheer annoyance. “That you adore me whenever I tell you how much I love it?”

“Jungkook,” you hiss, tempted to flick him on the forehead in his sleep repeatedly so he’ll wake up with a mark. “Will you let me put the snoring strip on you or do we divorce?”

“Divorce,” he sighs out, a pinch instantly placed on his thigh that makes him jolt and squeak anyway. Jungkook whines, correcting himself when your hand hovers his chest this time. “Divorcing is bad!”

“Mhmm. Good night, Kook.”

You vibrate just by the prospect of sleeping peacefully tonight without the walls in the house being shaken up by your husband’s snores, tucking yourself in with an exhale that could last for minutes.

“Mmh-hmm!”

Jungkook could only pathetically whine through the mouth strip, resigning to his fate as he just spoons you from behind and huffs.

“What’s that? You want to wear snoring strips every night?” you chuckle, going to sleep with a smile. “What a nice husband.”

( ♡ )

Every now and then, you and Jungkook have to take a refresher course on each other’s businesses. The both of you know a lot already, constant conversations about which meetings happened where and reminders for events that the other will clear up their schedule for.

There’s already the concern and the general knowledge — it’s just all in the technicalities (even the simplest ones) that the two of you are lacking on.

“Is this a mock neck or a crewneck?” Jungkook holds up a shirt that’s yet to be released, eyebrows raised as if waiting for you to mess up. Come to think of it, you have to know now because his family’s holding company had acquired yet another brand and there’ll be a televised event for it — and some reporters ask the stupidest questions to date. You can’t be the weakest link.

“I wanna say neither,” you clear your throat, biting your bottom lip in confusion. It’s a shirt with a collar and that’s the only thing that matters. You know there’s a name for it and there’s a possibility that the choices Jungkook gave you were all bluffs.

Your answer definitely seems to pique both Jungkook’s interest and amusement, resisting the urge to laugh.

“Elaborate.”

“It’s neither of the two. It’s uhm, in the middle?” you tilt your head, only praying that you could bullshit your explanation to your husband, the very person that created the garment. “It’s an all-new neckline created by Jeon Jungkook because that’s what his label is all about.”

Flattering, but really wrong.

“Cool,” he snickers, nodding to himself before he tosses it for you to catch. “It’s a crewneck though.”

“What? Then why did you make me elaborate?” you complain, scoffing to yourself because you know you should’ve went with that answer. Crewnecks should be easy enough to answer but for some reason (read: you stayed up last night watching new-money elitist reality shows instead of studying), you couldn’t answer.

“To see how good you can run away with your answer, duh.”

“And did I run away with it?”

“You ran away with it for like, four meters,” Jungkook commends you, the distance not all that bad in hindsight, atleast until he opens his mouth again. “There’s a hundred meters in total.”

Trivial things like quiz night on each other’s professions remind you that Jungkook’s nice to be with. Banter flows easily and he’s just so charming that so far, you haven’t deeply regretted a single day out of the two years you’ve been married.

You may not be able to name all the different fabrics, silhouettes, and techniques behind Jungkook’s very own streetwear brand, but you know that he likes being held when he’s asleep; that when he taps your thigh groggily after waking up in the middle of the night, it’s him very kindly asking you to rub circles on his back until he falls asleep.

“Okay, my turn!”

Your glass table almost shakes in excitement when you retrieve your sketches, making your husband all the more nervous because you look genuinely excited and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. He doesn’t have the room for error — your family’s jewelry brand turns 100 years old since the opening of its first shop and the event will be widely attended by everyone from all industries. Who’s to say that your eccentric grandfather won’t suddenly host a quizbee all about their craft?

You flash the paper quickly and your husband sighs in relief, grinning in confidence.

“Emerald cut, easy!”

The confidence is quickly washed out from Jungkook because you snort, putting the paper down.

“It’s an octagon cut.”

“No it’s not,” he immediately retorts in disbelief, squinting at the sketch you’ve set down already.

“I sketched these,” you narrow your eyes. You forgot just how quick Jungkook can keep himself in denial. “Emerald cuts have more depth to them.

He succumbs just as quickly as he turned stubborn though, rolling his eyes with the internal reminder to touch up on his jewelry knowledge because your event comes before his.

“Fine, sue me for thinking your drawings have depth and dynamic to them.”

“You’re buttering me up.”

“Is it working?” Jungkook blinks owlishly, proud of himself when he sees the corner of your lips twitching. He holds his arm out to sling across your waist out of instinct, pleased in pink when you lean into him.

“Barely.”

Jungkook frowns, nosing into your hair with a huff. “Look who’s talking. You made up an all-new neckline by yourself.”

“Shh,” you hum. “Let me get away with it.”

These moments of domesticity are what remind you that Jungkook’s never been less than ideal for you. That despite being in the same social circle as kids and only starting off as friends, you weren’t hesitant when both your grandparents suggested the idea of getting the two of you married.

In trivial and domestic moments like these, you think that you would’ve wanted to marry Jungkook even if you weren’t arranged.

“I let you get away with a lot of things,” he playfully huffs, resting his chin on your shoulder intentionally heavy to get you to cave deeper into his embrace.

“Because I barely wrong you!” you reason, rolling your eyes because you know for a fact that although you’re not a perfect wife, you’re beyond ideal.

“I know,” Jungkook rolls his eyes this time, the truth undeniable. You’re right; you’re so perfect for him that sometimes, he thinks he doesn’t deserve you. “How about me? Will you let me get away with a lot of things?”

“I already have,” you sing-song, narrowing your eyes playfully as if in deep warning. “But I won’t always do.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook first realized that you loved him when he missed a single step on the staircase and tumbled a whole flight.

It was 3 AM then, the reason behind his sudden trip downstairs being the fever you developed overnight when you had just gotten home from a ski trip. He had put a wet towel in the freezer in the afternoon and he was supposed to put it on you before you went to sleep. Jungkook must’ve beat himself up for forgetting because he wakes up with a cold sweat, determined to put that frozen towel on you like his life depended on it.

Jungkook thought he was doing well by the way he could navigate clearly even with the sleep in his system, eyes still half-lidded and brain still half-working that he decides to rip out the largest yawn to man mid-step on the staircase — before he knows it, he’s woken up immediately to the bottom of it.

“Jungkook!” you yelled to him then in a panic, eyes wide and frantic to see him at the bottom of the stairs with a sheepish smile. Jungkook knew then that seeing you with a head-splitting migraine visible on your pale lips and fatigued eyes, scooping him up on your arms with nothing but scolding and fussing on rotation — he knew that you loved him more than you let on.

You know Jungkook loves you. So when the bed dips and your arms grow cold despite swearing up and down that the both of you have a free day today, you doubt for a second.

“What are you doing up so early?” you mutter, stifling a yawn to see Jungkook up without a complaint.

“Breakfast with my parents. My crazy aunt suddenly came over and they need backup,” Jungkook answers with a pained laugh, cussing himself for being such a filial son. “Don’t worry, I know you hate her plus you were up all night yesterday so I just told them you can’t come because you’re under the weather.”

You’re put at ease to hear him, sighing a breath of relief — good, Jungkook still loves you and doesn’t plan to leave you. It’s just an inkling you’ve had the last few weeks, the daunting realization that in a couple months’ time, it’ll be three years of marriage with him.

It’s the impulsive, less rational part of your brain that thinks Jungkook’s growing bored of you, confused of how he’s been perfectly content being your husband for almost three whole years.

You go with Jungkook all the way through downstairs, your playful teasing towards him about never yawning again on the steps giving him more amusement (and embarrassment) than necessary.

“Kook?” you question with a furrow in your brow, pointing at the dish that’s occupied still. “You forgot the car keys.”

“Oh. I’m not taking the car,” he smiles, shrugging to emphasize the jacket that he intentionally wore. You missed the detail somehow, the surprise in your voice more evident.

“You’re taking your motorbike?”

“Mhmm!” Jungkook hums pleasantly, the background music in his brain going from calm elevator music to rising bass rift. He’s just about to bid you goodbye with a kiss after he wears his gloves but he’s stopped even before he could come near. You’ve already read his mind.

Your husband knows it when you put your arms across your chest, nodding towards the cabinet with a tone that leaves no room for counterarguments.

“Go wear your full gear.”

“But the breakfast place isn’t even that far,” Jungkook whines, head tilting back. His gear was literally hot, protecting him from sunlight yet physically making him boil inside.

“I want you in one piece.”

“You want me?” Jungkook cheekily grins, eyebrows wagging incessantly with his arms outstretched. That’s it! If he could just act cuter and be a little more-

“Go wear your gear.”

“I look goofy,” he mutters, eyes downcast. The longer he goes without blinking, the faster he knows that he’s going to stick to your words.

“You look safe,” you smile in success when you put his helmet on, securing it extra tightly that draws a whine from him.

Jungkook frowns but he knows that you’re right as always, a relieved sigh coursing throughout his whole body because who knew where he’d end up without you.

“Ride safe, Jungkook. I mean it. Don’t pull any tricks,” you glare pointedly at him, recounting all of the near misses he had from wanting to be adventurous, be it a trip downstairs to the refrigerator or in the middle of a main thoroughfare.

“I promise not to pull a wheelie on the highway, yes,” Jungkook mockingly salutes you, drawing out a faux disappointed sigh from you.

“You’re forgetting something.”

Was he really? Jungkook furrows his brows in confusion, smacking his lips when he seems to get the gist of it. He walks towards you, puckering his lips to the max because he doesn’t want to headbutt you with a solid helmet for just a smooch, landing a gentle kiss on your cheek.��

You appreciate it, but Jungkook’s not quite right.

“No, not that.”

“What?” he seems taken aback, suddenly realizing. “Oh!” he giggles, raising up his right hand in a pledge. “I promise to text you when I get there.”

“Good.”

You have to put more strength to drag Jungkook by the helmet, angling your head to the side to kiss so he doesn’t knock you in the forehead with the extremely safe (and extremely bulky) helmet you got him.

Jungkook smiles in contentment, clearing his throat as he revs his engine. It’s all good then. He had become worried in silence because your three years of marriage were approaching and got scared because what if you grew bored of him already?

Jungkook worries that he’ll mess things up with you one day, but with the way he can see you waving at him frantically on his side mirror when he just left, it’s okay.

He knows you still love him.

( ♡ )

Hoseok’s your most talented and trusted metalsmith.

His work ethic’s unparalleled, your vision only coming into fruition through his support and skill. He’s indispensable to you, your place in the direction of your family’s business cemented by Hoseok’s aid.

Hoseok as both an artist and your employee is different from Hoseok as your friend. Both are cunning but the latter is more ruthless, the lines being blurred every now and then. He loves his job, don’t get him twisted at all — in fact, he trusts you as a boss and the company beyond comprehension that he doesn’t bear any tact for anyone who threatens either.

Not even for Jungkook.

“A collab, huh?” Hoseok squints, looking through the portfolio you’ve handed him. There’s already projected numbers that your analysts have predicted for you but he pays the papers no mind. He clicks his tongue, looking up at you with an unreadable expression. “A streetwear brand wants a limited-edition collection with us?”

Jungkook clears his throat, timidly raising his hand. He’s always known that Hoseok’s standoffish to literally everyone except you, but what he can’t take is being talked about like he isn’t in the same room.

“Uhm, I’m Y/N’s husband.”

“Well you’re the owner of that streetwear brand, aren’t you?” Hoseok raises a brow at him, tilting his head. He looks drastically bored, his tongue poking his cheek.

Jungkook blinks, not exactly knowing where this was going but he doesn’t like it one bit. “Yes, but I’m also her husband.”

“Okay?” Hoseok tilts his head, eyes already exhausted from the conversation. You know that look on him, the one that tells you he’s bored to death and is itching to shut up the nearest person to him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Jungkook rarely gets flustered by anyone else besides you and this time, it’s the bad kind. The embarrassment he gets from just conversing with Hoseok makes him feel like he’s an inconvenience, unease settling into his stomach. Jungkook wishes he couldn’t be so perceptive to know that despite Hoseok’s eyes normally being unreadable, his gaze now on his sketches can be read as underwhelmed.

“Well I-I mean, I’m hearing a lot of us and it sounds like you and Y/N, not me and Y/N,” he licks his lips, recognizing the insecurity that sticks to his tone like honey. Not only does he feel insulted as an artist, he also feels insufficient as a husband.

“That is what I’m saying though,” Hoseok trails off, hand vaguely gesturing for Jungkook to fill in the rest of the blanks. When he doesn’t, Hoseok does it for him. “It’s me and Y/N seeing this brand through. Not you and her.”

Jungkook blinks once, twice.

Hoseok isn’t wrong. No matter how much pain it brings Jungkook to admit it, Hoseok isn’t wrong. Your marriage may be for you and him alone, but your company– your artistry is only yours as much as it’s Hoseok’s. He has no place here and he feels it, his initial confidence that the collaboration he proposed was going to pass already dwindling by the millisecond.

“Hoseok’s right,” you cough, breaking their conversation. The tension was already too thick and you’ve barely made it halfway to looking at the entirety of the portfolio. “Reel it in, Jungkook.”

He’s jealous. He’s jealous and he forgot just how pathetic and insufficient one could feel when the green monster of heartburn decides to make an appearance. Jungkook just about doubts everything, from thinking of how your admiration for Hoseok is probably much higher than the admiration you have for him, to thinking if you even benefit from being arranged to him.

Hoseok looks over the designs, noting all the details silently.

“Huh. I see,” he hums, clearing his throat to try and keep all the crass words he has in mind to himself because you’re looking at him intently. “Skulls. Haven’t seen this one before.”

“You sketched this?” Hoseok nods every now and then, holding up the paper that had deep indents of the pencil on the paper to the point that it defeats the concept of a sketch. Your husband nods, and he wishes he hadn’t because Hoseok comments not a second later. “Figures.”

He hums, silently approving here and there of some concepts he could totally get behind. It’s not all rubbish content, but he can’t say that salvageable automatically equates to commendable.

“So? What do you think, Hobi?” you ask when the silence has gone long enough, having noticed that Jungkook already grew too quiet in your corner.

Hoseok calculates in his brain, looking from the portfolio and back to you. He tries not to clench his jaw for the sake of you silently pleading him to mince his words and actions, clasping his hands together.

“Yeah, it’s doable,” he nods, making Jungkook smile despite his ego being a little wounded. He’s bounced back miraculously, profusely thanking Hoseok with an unexplained eagerness to him. Before Jungkook could launch himself to further possibilities though, Hoseok calls for you.

“Y/N? A word, please?”

Jungkook looks back from the door, hesitant doe eyes flitting between the two of you. You don’t know exactly what’s going through his mind but you know better than to project, bidding him goodbye for the timebeing. “It’ll be quick.”

The most commendable trait you can attribute to Hoseok besides being your friend is his passion for your craft. He’s vision-oriented in the sense that he cuts straight to the chase before he could even lose the trail that the sudden burst of fervor leaves him.

“Meridian’s your baby. It’s your grandmother’s grandmother’s baby. It’s coveted. It has meaning,” Hoseok rambles, the sigh leaving him more concerned than it was relieved at being let out. He can’t mince his words now — he can’t put it in any other way besides the truth. “Collaborating with Jungkook cheapens it.”

“Hoseok.”

Your tone edges on a bite, clenching your jaw as you try to take everything in. Hoseok’s been your voice of reason for so long but you don’t know how to accept that voice now, the tinge of guilt slowly staining you because the back of your mind tells you that he isn’t wrong.

Jungkook’s streetwear brand is huge; whether or not you chalk it up to his name being linked to his family’s holding company that’s responsible for other designer brands, your husband’s brand specifically remains larger than life. It’s not a flawless brand, that much you’re sure of, but it’s still of great value.

Just perhaps not of the same degree that Hoseok holds your company to.

“It’s not all bad, but most of his work is dispassionate. It’s typical. Meridian would look cheap if you commit to this fever dream collaboration.”

There’s a rash on your neck, one that’s warm and speaks to your ear of how shitty it must feel to even agree partially to what Hoseok’s saying. Your duties as an artist in the business rarely clash with your courtesies as Jungkook’s wife — today just happens to be one of those days.

“It’s Jungkook’s idea, okay?” you relent, voice low as if in defeat of admission. You don’t mean to belittle him, you just happen to know and listen to reason. “It’s not the best, I know, but it’s honest work. Let’s give him a chance.”

“You’re giving him a chance because he’s your husband, not because you see any potential.”

Hoseok says it without uttering nor a single sense of doubt. He sounds so definite that you don’t even know if he’s still insulting Jungkook or if he’s insulting you at this point, swallowing your words.

There’s truth to your craft but you know there’s an even bigger truth to the unspoken protectiveness you have over Jungkook, the answer sounding seemingly shallow but that’s what it really is — love makes you shallow as much as it makes you deep.

“You’ll know when you’re married.”

“Arranged would be the term for you and Jungkook. Not married,” Hoseok quips. “You’re only holding back your critique. We both know it’s a dead end when it comes to creative direction.”

The both of you leave it at that, the decision being unanimous to collaborate with Jungkook despite your metalsmith’s hesitance. What you say goes, that’s just how hierarchy works.

Unbeknownst to you and Hoseok though, Jungkook’s been listening the whole time — that’s just how love operates sometimes; hidden and relinquished.

( ♡ )

Jungkook’s hurt.

How crude of Hoseok to think of him that way. How worse of you to agree even.

Jungkook’s irrational when he’s hurt, refusing to see reason. He knows at the back of his head that he’s hit a rut and pitching in a collaboration with your brand is his last-ditch attempt in sparking something. Cheap was a word for tackiness and to have your friend use it on him brings him to a new low.

It’s just jewelry. What you make is just jewelry. Just pieces of metal bended and soldered together with shiny gems that don’t possess any real meaning to them besides superficial.

It’s not that deep.

Not that deep to the point that when Hyejoo, his childhood friend turned actress turned fleeting appearance in his life every now and then (whom you hate for some reason), asks him for a favor — Jungkook barely hesitates.

Hyejoo stands before him in a shirt from his brand’s limited collection, one out of the only hundred ever made. If Jungkook recalls correctly, he didn’t even send any items from the limited collection to any of his friends; he left everyone besides you to go fend for themselves.

Perhaps his childhood friend’s truly a fan of his craft, knowing her for her utmost support towards all his releases. To be honest, the two of them aren’t even that close anymore to the point that they’re each other’s first friend to think of in dire circumstances, except now — now when she needs him for a favor.

“But I need a pink ring for the event, Jungkook!” Hyejoo whines, throwing her head back for dramatic effect. Truth be told, she knew no brand that had pink jewelry that was elegant enough for her taste except yours. She’s turned down sponsorships all for a ring you probably keep in your sock drawer. “Yes I can buy from other brands but you’re there, Kook. You’re available and I can borrow from you because your wife has a shit ton.”

Jungkook knows what Hyejoo’s talking about. It’s the one pink ring that you wore on your engagement party with him and it’s become the talk of everyone from how ethereal you looked, the one tiny piece of jewelry tying it all together.

He knows it’s pink and he knows it’s just hidden away in its jewelry box, one that you keep right next to his collection of watches. There was no fancy vault for it either, just tucked next to his timepieces as if they were of the same value.

“Come on, she won’t even notice,” Hyejoo urges him, making him inwardly cringe. She turned up on his front door unannounced asking for a favor and he feels indebted her for the last time she granted him one, the apartment complex that Hyejoo owned becoming the perfect backdrop to his collection that’s still renowned to this day.

Jungkook’s loyal, he knows he is. His loyalties lie with you and he still honors his debt — whether or not you’re caught in the middle. It’s true that you won’t even notice, you don’t even peek at it anyway! For someone who’s a part of a family of jewelers, you rarely accessorize yourself gaudily.

“Fine. I’ll let you borrow,” Jungkook mutters, finally relenting to Hyejoo’s requests. He opens the door wider, on the way to your shared bedroom but looks back hastily at Hyejoo to point a stern finger. “But give it back, okay?”

It takes a great amount of strength for Jungkook to even hand the ring to Hyejoo, not even including the box with her because a) you would know that it was missing, and b) he wants her to wear it at all times until she gives it back the next day. Jungkook takes it personally to flick her wrist to serve as a reminder that he had given it to her already, even going so far to take a picture of the two of them and make her sign on his notes app.

He’s not necessarily betraying you — or so he thinks. It was just jewelry that you wouldn’t miss, same as the shirts that he gives away to his friends. Their retail prices may be lightyears away but you would understand; you always do.

Jungkook gaslights himself into thinking that he did no wrong but the guilt is what slowly gnaws on him, the tips of his fingers going numb every time he looks at you.

Come to think of it, his decision to lend your ring to Hyejoo was out of sheer pettiness even without the assurance that you’ll take notice of it. His hurt over Hoseok’s comment disappeared the moment he handed her your ring, but to his surprise, it’s anxiousness that replaces his irritation.

He kisses you good night still as if today didn’t happen; how his irrationality had gotten the best of him when he got hurt by Hoseok’s remarks over his passion and creativity, and just a few hours later, it’s his impulsiveness and misplaced urge for vindication that lent your unsuspecting ring to his childhood friend.

“Jungkook!” you yell out in panic, urging him awake instantly that his heart beats incessantly despite being pulled out of sleep. You look frantic, the rawness in your eyes not from your lack of sleep, but instead from tears. “Call 911. The Interpol! The CIA! The fucking Blue House!”

“What?! What happened?!”

He’s panicked just as you are, hands shakily clutching his phone. He looks you up and down and inspects you for injuries to which there are none, nothing but overwhelm making your body shake.

Jungkook can’t bear to see you so glum and helpless, your bottom lip trembling as you look at him feeling nothing but pathetic.

“My ring,” you whisper brokenly, the phantom feeling of wearing it making you sob even more. “My ring is gone.”

Jungkook’s mouth dries, the panic in his own body turning against himself, his remorse growing into something larger than life. He could physically see the confusion on your face on the way he paled, his phone dropping out of his hold.

Your husband’s hands reach for you but you don’t take them, recoiling even before he could open his mouth. Jungkook was readable — too readable to the point that you wish he had lied to your face instead.

“I-I can explain.”

Jungkook weakens by the knees when the words drape from the tip of his tongue, your chest sucking in an inhale so sharp that he gets weakened by the force of it. “I lent it to Hyejoo.”

You’re quiet, the type of rage in you simmering ever so slowly that it builds to an immense heat. You don’t know if you can ever muster to look at Jungkook in the eye, your middle finger that knows the grooves of your ring twitching in muscle memory.

“You what?” you croak, tilting your head. You know what you’ve heard but you just wish you’re mistaken this time, cursing your own accuracy. “Who told you that you could do that?”

Jungkook’s cornered in his mind and he spews the first thing in his mind, no matter how stupid it sounded.

“Yours is mine and mine is-…”

“That doesn’t apply here! You’re so fucking-…” you just about burst in the seams, clenching your jaw so hard to the point that you give yourself a headache. You’re resolute this way, the pitiful look on your husband’s face not getting a single drop of remorse from you. “Get it back.”

You wouldn’t have lent it to anyone regardless if Jungkook asked you, but you would have considered at the very least. For him to take something so special to you and loan it to someone you’re not even fond of ticks a wire in your brain, your anger coming before the sadness fully hits.

“Y/N!” he hisses, angry at both the situation and himself but he now thinks of the courtesy that he didn’t possess when Hyejoo borrowed your ring. “I can’t turn back on my word.”

“What? Your word that favors Hyejoo and shits on mine?” you scoff in disbelief, laughing at the mockery Jungkook makes of you. It’s insulting and saddening and you can’t even begin to think of the extensive cleaning and safekeeping you’ll have to do once you get your ring back. “I said, get it back. You’re my husband and you’re just her friend, you have all the means to take my ring back.”

Jungkook turns somber, a stark contrast to your anger. He pleads with you, finally closing the gap between you to which you roll your eyes.

“The event is tonight. She’ll return it tomorrow. Please, it’ll be embarrassing.”

“For you or for her?” you ask but the rage in your voice is already simmering, the daunting thoughts of how Jungkook thinks of his friend’s sake and himself first than his wife making you clench your fists around nothing.

“Y/N, please.”

His incessant begging does little to influence your decision because you’ve already changed your mind, the rage that dipped in you and the fact that your heart’s already aching despite having just woken up converting you instead.

“Tomorrow morning. I want it back in the case before I wake up.”

The two of you sleep apart for the night and Jungkook can’t even bring himself to contest it knowing that he doesn’t deserve to hold you. He simmers in self-loathing, unable to sleep the night when his phone dings from the notifications it has of your name.

Hyejoo’s look on the carpet trends the whole night, the main focus of everyone being the pink ring that adorns her ring finger. There’s threads of speculations how you and her are either best friends or how she must’ve bought it from you. If only he could, Jungkook would reply to each comment saying that Hyejoo doesn’t hold a candle to your elegance and how the ring has always been yours — that it’s his fault that his friend’s even wearing the same piece.

He’s restless and he can’t even begin to think how much more tired you feel. Of your name being brought up and of him royally fucking up.

When Jungkook thinks it couldn’t be worse, karma one-ups him from the very mistake he committed when he entertained Hyejoo’s favor in his mind.

“You’re stupid,” you spit to Hyejoo who stands on your porch, head downturned in shame. She had half the decency to face you personally but lacks the rest to honor her end of the bargain; she lacks the intellect to respect you.

She lost the ring. She lost the pink ring you’ve treasured and cared for since you were a teenager, losing it after a careless and drunk decision of skinny dipping. You feel like you’ve been made a fool not only by your husband, but also by his friend that you don’t care for at all.

The tears fall out of your eyes in anger, each one being in a rush to exit because you’re full of resentment at this point.

“You’re a brainless, stupid, careless fucking idiot. I don’t want to see you in my household again,” you point at her, making her step back.

“This is Jungkook’s-…” she squeaks, just about to correct you when you point at her even more menacingly. You’re not even joking around as it seems like, eyes angry to the point that they lack of love, even for Jungkook who tries to hold you back.

“I’ll get a restraining order on you.”

Hyejoo scurries out all with the promise to reimburse you (as if she has the money to do so) that falls on deaf ears, your hand slamming the door too hard that your husband swears the walls shook with your force.

You look unrecognizable with the sheer disappointment you have for him, your anger dripping off of you thickly that he’s rendered speechless.

“You,” you seethe. “I fucking hate you.”

You never told him that before.

You’ve gotten mad at him on several occasions but never to this degree where you tell him that you loathe him. This is the furthest that you’ve took it, the honesty behind your words making his bottom lip tremble.

Jungkook’s eyes have been perpetually moist since last night but it’s only now that his eyes sting with white hot sadness. You’re only reacting out of your state of overwhelm; you must be, right?

“I hate you so, so much, Jungkook.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“No, I really mean that,” you scoff to his face, shaking your head in absoluteness. “What would you do if I sold your car, huh?”

Jungkook wants to apologize to you so bad but he doesn’t have the right words to give you the proper one that you deserve. He gives you an answer off the top of his head, the disappointment for himself growing if he does otherwise.

“It’s just a car.”

“Well this is just not a fucking ring to me! It’s not simple like that!” you burst, your movements jerky.

“I’ll buy you a new ring,” he whispers, wanting to tug at his hair for being so stupid. He should’ve considered the possibility that Hyejoo has a knack for being careless; he failed to account that he went behind your back to lend your ring to someone else in the first place.

“I can buy my own rings!” you exclaim. “What you don’t get is that this means the world to me! If your uncle gave you a car, and I gave it to someone else and now it’s on the bottom of the ocean, what would you feel?”

“It’s just a car from my uncle. I can replace it. I can buy a better one.”

Jungkook knows he’s just making excuses. He’s just being defensive now that he’s cornered and has no excuse for behaving so poorly. He can’t escape the anger and the disappoint he’s flooded with, not when you cry out of sheer distress.

“Not if my aunt isn’t here! Not if this ring is one of the only things I have of her!”

Sure, your aunt was dodgy. She’s the black sheep of your family and had done more than a lot of questionable things, but she cared for you. She had given you her own ring when you were twelve and whilst it was too big for you to wear, she gave you a chain for you to wear it around your neck.

The ring is something you can easily replicate but the thought behind it is what you can’t take back. It’s not the only piece of her that you have but it’s one of the earliest things you obtained; one of the most notable pieces out of the bunch.

“You don’t think. You don’t care. You don’t love.”

For Jungkook to carelessly seize it from you and loan it to someone else grips your heart like a vice. You’re gonna dwell on it for more than a couple of days and realize that you have more sentimental and elegant things you have of your aunt eventually — but what matters to you is how you feel now. How Jungkook had disappointed you so bad, you feel like throwing up.

“I want to divorce you,” you seethe, meaning your words at the heat of the moment. Jungkook stands frozen, hearing his own heartbeat thrum in his ears. “I can find a new husband. What I can’t find — what neither you nor Hyejoo can’t find is my ring.”

( ♡ )

You do it while he’s sleeping.

You take advantage of Jungkook’s fatigue and disorientation from crying his eyes out, passed out in the couch while he hugs himself with his arms to try and replicate your embrace. It’s already morning and it only looks like he slept just minutes ago, positively dozed off.

You take much care in slipping of the platinum wedding ring from his finger, joining your discarded one in your palm. There’s only carelessness when you scoop them into a tiny drawstring bag, taking it to Hoseok and doing a regular work day as if your head hadn’t pounded with hurt just last night.

It’s only convenient for the both of you; Jungkook’s decision slingshots back to him, and your client would be happy. Hoseok texted you last night asking if he should grant the request of a high-profile client with a titanium pendant, and it just so happens that you have two chunks of it that you no longer need. It could be melted and repurposed — after all, it’s just jewelry according to Jungkook.

The guilt of your impulsiveness doesn’t hit you instantly, it only comes with confusion when you see your husband in shambles.

When you come home, the whole house is upturned. Jungkook’s frantic, waking up to a hand that bears no wedding ring; no proof of you. His eyes glaze with relief briefly when he sees you, urging you to take in the situation fully.

“The police. The CIA! Interpol! MI6 — or is it MI7? Fuck, Mr. Bean’s movie was too good! Get the Blue House on the line!” he blubbers, looking back and forth the cushions of the couch and his hand. “My wedding ring!”

It’s perhaps a ballsy move made on your part, but you can’t guilt yourself into bearing the blame. You made your wedding rings and it only makes sense for you to get rid of them. The bands are symbolic, made and upheld with love for the last two years but in your haste of upset, you’ve given them away.

You perhaps regret it slightly, the fog in your brain lifting but only faintly. You’re still mad and disappointed at Jungkook, and perhaps you don’t mean the bit of divorcing him, but you do mean wholeheartedly the sentimentality you have behind all your jewelry.

The platinum in your ring finger just felt too heavy last night that you grew weary of it, not thinking twice when you removed yours and Jungkook’s. Even if the two of you make up and you don’t end up divorcing Jungkook, you wouldn’t want to wear the same ring that brought you the same pain during its stint.

“I sold them,” you answer, turning your back on him before you could see the anguish in his face. “We have no need for them.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook’s making you a rice bowl as an apology.

Buttered fried rice, egg, bacon, and all with a generous amount of cheese. It’s his hangover food when he needs something greasy and filling but the only difference from his past hangovers and your anger at him is the latter barely feels like it could be rectified.

He says his apologies again through the door and he’ll happily repeat it to your face if you stand longer in front of him for more than a minute, his panic even larger than the oil splashes he’s gotten from making your bacon eagerly.

“I’m so sorry, baby. It was stupid of me to lend your ring to Hyejoo behind your back and I swear I won’t do it again. I know that ring meant a lot to you and I-I was so pathetic by invalidating that,” he mutters through the door, looking at the frying pan every now and then to make sure he wasn’t burning anything. “I have every intention of finding your ring and making it up to you, cross my heart!”

It feels insulting, even. For him to think that he could change the ache of your heart with a simple hot meal. Jungkook realizes that he really is dense when you don’t answer the door for the twenty minutes that he knocks. When you do open up, he feels even more dumb.

Just twenty minutes ago, he wired you twice the amount of the worth you estimated your aunt’s ring to be. Combined with the pitiful amount Hyejoo wires you, it’s then do you realize that you’re not fazed by money. The initiative is there, sure, but the ache in your heart hasn’t subsided completely.

You do miss Jungkook. It does tug at your heartstrings to see and hear him beat himself up over and over again the more you realize that you’re attached to your aunt’s memories rather than the ring itself, but just two nights away from each other won’t absolve everything he’s done and failed to do.

When you open the door, you’re greeted by the sight of your husband who tries far too hard for his own good. Melancholy isn’t a good look on him because he looks the most unkempt he’s ever appeared in two days than the two years you’ve been living with him under the same roof.

Jungkook waits for you to register his attempt, holding up a hot bowl with his bare hands that you resist the urge to take it from him for a second. His ring finger’s occupied by a cheap mood ring, rapidly turning red at the moment from the heat of the bowl.

You look down fully expecting to be swayed even just a little bit, but when you do, you feel the kick to just slam the door right back.

“I hate runny eggs,” you scowl. “Two years married and you don’t even know how I like my eggs cooked.”

Jungkook wants the ground to swallow him whole.

He wishes that if it was true that chickens are the last true descendants of dinosaurs, there’d be a chicken the same size as them that pecks him into oblivion.

He hurriedly turns on the stove and scoops up the egg back into it, careful not to have any of the runny folk get on your meal. He itches in frustration, his ring finger that’s temporarily adorned with a cheap and clunky mood ring being accurate by turning blue in sadness.

Jungkook’s so out of it, so disappointed in himself that he doesn’t notice he cooks the egg until it’s burnt, the char of it reflecting how poorly he thinks of himself now.

It’s like when you were disappointed in him that time when his outlandish aunt made a rude comment about you and you were speechless the whole night that he stayed silent. He remedied it by later groveling at your feet and marching to his aunt and laying out all of his intentions for her to grow up and apologize to you, the same aunt that’s now blacklisted from all the gatherings.

It’s like when you were upset at him when he left abruptly in the morning and didn’t tell you where he was going because he didn’t know if you would care, partying it up in a different country for his friend’s bachelor’s party and coming home a day later with you hot on his heels. Jungkook made it up to you by once again apologizing profusely and updating you on his whereabouts since then (sometimes he gives too much information), always making it a point to bring two powerbanks with him so he can text you when he’s left and arrived.

This time though, he doesn’t know how exactly to make it up to you. He’s been in contact with professional divers to try and look for the ring for you, but he can’t be of much help until he comes along to know for sure. He’s thinking of all these different ways and approaches but he’s unsure if any of them are sufficient enough to rectify his mistake.

Jungkook feels pathetic because he swears he loves you and knows everything about you, but here he is — crying about how he doesn’t even know how you like your eggs cooked.

You’re upset at him, and he can’t do anything right for you.

( ♡ )

Jungkook tries again at dinner.

It’s the day of Meridian’s 100th anniversary and the two of you play it up for the cameras, your husband’s attention on you so keen and affectionate that you almost forget you were supposed to be mad at him.

He takes advantage of the cameras during the carpet session, tugging you close with his hand on your waist as he seizes the chance to hug you tightly at the end when you enter the hall with no cameras in place. He breathes you in as he always does, hesitant to let you go and exhale because you’re the very scent and existence of love.

Jungkook studied, of course he did. He’s touched up on his jewelry knowledge because he’s more than desperate now to seek your validation, nervously smiling all around as he waits for people to stop approaching you in your table.

His attention’s fixed on your necklace, the stone on it similar to the very ring he lent and lost. He’s brought it up about five times already, animatedly reciting trivia about it as if you’re not the literal face of the jewelry industry. He clears his throat, leaning in for you to whisper intimately, but just loud enough for the other people to hear a tad.

“Ah, that pink sapphire looks so good on you, babe.”

“Shut up,” you mutter sharply, making Jungkook’s heart skip a beat. You melted against him when he was hugging you, that much he was sure of. He doesn’t know why you’ve become harsh again all of a sudden, forgetting that his lapse this time was opening his mouth. “Stop saying that.”

“Saying what?” his brows furrow, swallowing the lump on his throat. “Pink?” he guesses, eyes wavering as he tests the waters. “Pink sapphire?”

It takes a lot in you not to make an outburst. Truth be told, you’ve started easing up on Jungkook but his attempts at trying hard is just too much and in the wrong direction, hearing pink sapphire over and over again reminding you of the ring you lost.

“Yes, that! Stop talking.”

“But I did my homework! Of course I’m not gonna stop talking,” he defends himself, the nervousness rising to his throat like bile. God, what if he did the wrong homework? What if he’s missed the assignment all along?

“Clearly you didn’t try hard enough because you’re wrong, Jungkook. This isn’t a pink sapphire — this is a pink diamond.”

Jungkook’s brain stops functioning for a solid five seconds, his mouth drying. The only proof that he was still breathing is his big eyes threatening to water.

“And so is my ring that you gave to your friend without asking me,” you add.

“What?!” he sputters in disbelief, recounting to all the other times he named the gem in multiple occasions even before today. “B-but I said it so many times before! You didn’t even correct me!”

“I didn’t correct you because you looked so proud of yourself!” you exclaim, surrendering with a sigh. Pink sapphire was the first gem that Jungkook had managed to name in your trivia night on the first month of your marriage, his avidness on getting it “right” so contagious that you didn’t have the heart to correct him.

“Pink sapphire is dirt cheap compared to pink diamonds, Jungkook! You just keep saying sapphire over and over again because it’s your birthstone,” you mumble, looking around to see if there were any people growing nosy at your conversation. “I let you say it over and over again to the point that I wore them instead of diamonds because you just can’t shut up about them,” you grit.

This is the only time you reference your sentiment with the jewelry itself in words, your last profession of your disappointment in him being the removal of your wedding bands.

“That’s the thing with you — you can’t tell. This isn’t just about emerald o-or octagon cuts, Jungkook. This is our marriage and you gave a girl that I don’t like my ring that meant so much to me! Now you can’t get it back.”

Jungkook’s speechless, holding back tears. You fear you’ll cry yourself when you look at his round, pleading eyes so you don’t, squeezing in the last word even if he always lets you have it.

“And now I’m correcting you because you’re embarrassing me. Now please, lay off with the gem terms.”

( ♡ )

Things have been tame between you and Jungkook.

You’ve aired out your grievances and Jungkook’s still trying hard as always, perplexing you because he hasn’t gone restless. It’s progressively warmer between the two of you but it’s nowhere near to what the two of you used to be, the air between the two of you going static that you’ve utilized it for your own.

It’s just a quick getaway for the day, hopping aboard a yacht with the intention of giving yourself a break. You’ve reflected enough but not alone with yourself, the period of space with Jungkook being much-needed.

Until you’re mistaken of course.

You think your mind’s playing tricks on you when the boat rocks more than it would with waves, but the all too familiar figure coming into your vision turns out to be real. It’s Jungkook in the flesh, wearing his scuba suit and gear.

It’s a pure coincidence that is. All Jungkook knew was that you were going on a yacht today and you didn’t specify where; meanwhile, all you knew was that he was going to be scuba diving, but he didn’t specify where either.

It’s purely kismet but your bodyguard Taehyung doesn’t seem to think so, legitimately thinking it was a pirate instead of your husband so he repeatedly smacks him with an oar until you stop him.

“Jungkook!” you call out, getting your bodyguard to stop. Atleast he has the decency to look sheepish, but he was genuinely concerned! He thought you were being hijacked by someone dressed in the most unassuming scuba suit, holding a plastic bag in his hands.

Your husband barely winces from the pain because he’s high from all the adrenaline, chest rising rapidly in succession. “Y/N, baby, I — hold on, I’m gonna, wait-…”

He looks tired still but there’s a light to him, either his radiance has come back or it was just the sun behind him but either way, it was nice to look at Jungkook who isn’t groveling at your feet for once.

He finally catches his breath, standing up to his full height as he tries not to ramble his words.

“I bought all the fish.”

“You did what?” your eyes widen, pathetically looking at the vast ocean around you. Perhaps you’re so startled (and amused) by Jungkook’s sudden and silly appearance that you forgot to apply common sense, just as breathless as he is.

“Okay maybe not all, but I did buy a lot of fish,” he concedes, nodding incessantly. He’s too excited that he can’t contain himself, even more-so when you finally look at him without disdain staining your features.

“For what?” you ask, genuinely curious.

Jungkook smiles, never having been more proud retelling you his previous failure.

“Your favorite seafood restaurant? I bought them their stock, provided that they’ll open up every last fish in there to see if they had your ring,” he shrugs as if it’s a common thought process to abide by, later shaking his head. “They don’t.”

If there’s just one trait that Jungkook had to be known with by everyone, it would be his persistence.

Jeon Jungkook is endearingly, cloyingly, and annoyingly persistent with the things he desires and the things he’s passionate about. You’re his wife — you’re his every last desire and passion. He had wronged you fresh from a week and some days ago but that timeframe has already given him ample time to fully redeem himself.

He can’t undo what he did. He can’t reverse the time he lent his wife’s ring to his friend who loses it not a full day later. Jungkook can’t take back any of the things he did but what he can do is be dedicatedly persistent in correcting himself.

He’s tanner, his muscles are bulged and straining, and his skin’s itchy with all the salt but he takes all of these things in stride — he’s become a better person through persistence.

“I also tried snorkeling for a week and I still couldn’t find it,” he trails, biting his bottom lip while he clasps his hands behind his back. “But I tried again today.”

It’s either relief or endearment that fills your face full, but nonetheless, the light that Jungkook sees from you lulls him to the comfort and warmth he’s been yearning from you for the past week. His eyes are strained and his body feels itself moving in waves as if he was still underwater, but he just closes his eyes to savor the moment.

You bound to him to put him in an embrace, your husband instantly melting in your hold. It’s either all the salt in his eyes or it’s just the realization that you’ve finally forgiven him and it’s all the love he feels for you, but either way, you hold Jungkook tighter.

“I found your ring.”

( ♡ )

You don’t know when Jungkook first loved you.

You can’t pinpoint an exact moment when Jungkook started acting differently towards you because he’s always been the same way from day one, the same qualities that make him both annoying and endearing having been there from the start.

You could always ask but you can’t bring yourself to. It shouldn’t bother you at the end of the day because the important thing is that Jungkook loves you. He loves without reservations, the pinnacle of his love language being his patheticness in trying hard.

Jeon Jungkook may try hard for everyone, but he tries the most for you.

He wakes up early and you only realize his absence when you turn to pat the warm space he’s supposedly left behind, making you rub the sleep out of your eyes.

You wonder for a second that if Jungkook left the bed early and is quiet at the moment, he’s probably at the bottom of the staircase again because he yawned while going down. There’s no schedule today for either of you and you aren’t sick for him to make any sudden trips downstairs, his absence making you wonder this time.

There’s clanging coming from the garage, piquing your interest largely. There sits Jungkook wearing less safety gear that you’d like, blocks and blocks of wood surrounding him.

Your husband looks up, unassuming as usual while he breaks out into a grin.

“I’m making furniture for you.”

“That’s not necessary,” you snort, recounting all of the pieces you’ve acquired from your friend who’s an expert on woodcarving. Jungkook seems to know this too but he’s insistent, shaking his head eagerly.

His eyeglasses (his prescription ones instead of the actual safety ones) fog up from both his sweat and the few tears he’s shed out of frustration, taking them out so you could see the passion in his eyes. The passion’s definitely there, dampening his eyelashes and even tinting his eyelids pink.

“No, I’ll paint it up real good and it’ll blend it to your aesthetic.”

“Besides that, Jungkook,” you warn, coming down to squat on the space beside him. “You’re not good with tools.”

“Not good at them like Hoseok?” he questions, raising his brow. He’s frustrated and cranky and he just compared his (eager yet improper) use of large power tools compared to Hoseok’s expertise in using much, much smaller tools. Jungkook’s sweaty from all the effort, vaguely gesturing to the item in front of him. “Please, can Hoseok do it like me?”

Your husband points to the lopsided bench (?) slash coffee table (?) slash abstract piece (?) in front of you whose message is that they’re tired, only the scoopers for faux blood missing. It’s quite the spectacle. Not necessarily a statement piece because it raises more questions than any resolute takeaways at all.

“No, not really,” you joke around, winking to get the joke across your husband’s skull who sometimes reads between the lines too literally. “He can do it much, much better than you.”

“I’m trying to be romantic!” Jungkook whines with no real harm. “Go ahead, why don’t you divorce me and marry him because he’s so good with using a hammer?”

The two of you were back; the same playfulness and warmth rekindling, if not stronger. Some things were just too strong to grow out of, such as Jungkook’s double takes when it comes to another name being linked to you.

He’s just making sure, still as desperate to gain your validation even before the ring incident took place.

“That was… a joke if you couldn’t tell,” Jungkook laughs robotically, eyes narrowing and widening at you every two seconds. “I’m just kidding. You knew that. You wouldn’t do that… right?”

You wouldn’t.

He knows that you love him. He had known it during his state of vulnerability and he knows it now even in a state of security. He knows it even without a wedding ring, your promise of making new ones for the both of you remaining in his mind.

The downfall of Jeon Jungkook wouldn’t be his persistence that also bears the ability to be his uprising, it was never that. Jungkook’s downfall would only be the loss of you and it’s the only absence that he can’t risk.

Your husband tries so hard that it brings you secondhand embarrassment at times, his mishap with the pink sapphire cementing in your mind just how much of himself he dedicates to you, even with lapses along the way.

Jungkook tries so hard that he ends the day with splinters on his hand and his sinuses clogged with far too much dust. His effort doesn’t always equate to the best but he gives what he always has when you’re in the equation.

It’s a wooden box for your rings, a shallow heart with your initials carved on the inside. It’s smooth even without the varnish, a stark contrast to his hands that are all rough from doing all the labor.

“I can’t give you jewelry that you already have.”

Jungkook admits to you whole-heartedly, sitting at the end of the bed while he watches you admire the box in your vanity.

“But I can make shirts for you. Stitch up your name real nicely on my chest pocket,” he offers, the smile on his lips growing. “I can make furniture for you,” he shrugs, chuckling at himself. “I can’t guarantee that it’s usable but I can make furniture a little.”

You smile so warmly that Jungkook forgets all of the little pains, melting away his fatigue. If you could put all the love you have for Jungkook in a single space, even the mansion the two of you reside in won’t be enough.

“Cooking too. I can also cook a-and make perfect rice and I promise to remember how you like your eggs in the morning.”

Jungkook knows it to heart by now, even without the reminder he’s written himself pasted on the counter. Your eyes were just so glossy and moist that Jungkook can’t help but to spring to your side, patting them dry with his shirt.

Your husband wipes away your tears even before they could form and it pushes them out further, the voice in your throat dwindling. It’s the cheap and rusting mood ring on his ring finger that gets you to sob, seeing the faint green outline that it leaves.

He takes notice of your observation, understanding that jewelry means much more to you that he could comprehend which is why he’s quick to remedy your thoughts.

“I can always get tattoos of you if that’s what you want,” he continues, smiling sheepishly. “Actually, that’s what I want.”

Jungkook takes off his ring and it forces you to blink away your tears, lips parting open when it clicks.

It’s your initials on Jungkook’s ring finger, recognizing it as your own handwriting.

You’re filled with a great amount of gratitude that runs even deeper than the ink on Jungkook’s skin, making you sniffle and it gets him to bury your face against his chest while he shushes you.

“Why would you get that?”

It belatedly hits you that since you took your wedding bands, your husband’s left ring finger had not been vacant since.

“Because you sold our rings,” Jungkook shrugs, the look of ease on his face evident. “You sold them but we’re still married to each other,” he gently kisses your temple, letting you hold his hand to look at the tattoo closer. “We’re married. I still want people to know that I’m married to you.”

“Well,” you clear your throat, distraught with your emotions. “Your mood ring says you’re sad.”

“Passionate would be the term,” he sniffles, transferring the cheap ring to your finger. He giggles when it changes colors immediately, the timing of the situation being impeccable. “Okay now my ring says you’re happy.”

“Are you?” he asks whilst laughing but the both of you know it bears a weight.

“I am,” you answer just as seriously. “We’re okay, Jungkook. I forgive you.”

If you ask Jungkook what would his greatest joy and his greatest pain be, both answers would be you.

“Is your tattoo artist still around?” you ask while he puts you close to his chest, snapping him out of his trance.

“What for?”

“I think I want to match your permanent ring.”

“Are you real?” he mutters to himself, questioning your existence that he still isn’t sure if he deserves to have and love for the rest of his life. “Are you really real? You exist?”

“Yeah, he’s still around but I’d rather do it on you myself,” Jungkook answers eventually, returning the question. “Is that okay? Let me learn for a few months and I’ll tattoo my initials on you myself?”

You furrow your brows, not a single doubt placed on you if your husband was the one to tattoo you. “Yeah, but is that okay with you? You’re the only one who’s gonna have me on you for a couple more months. I can’t reciprocate because you want to ink me yourself.”

Jungkook only smiles, the warmth enough to outshine the sun.

“That’s not new to me,” he reassures you. “I loved you even before I married you.”

#thank u for 2022 :) consider this as my gift for the holidays!!!#jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook angst #jungkook angst imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook au #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #bts jungkook imagine

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strzlun · 9 months

Text

BET

// shim jake //

pairing: popular!jake x nonpopular!femreader

word count- 4.3k

genre/cw- fluff, angst, confessing, party setting, profanity(one word), one sided arguing, two people so deeply in love, crying(sobbing), jake redemption arc(?), reader and jake go through it

summary- Jake’s secret gets exposed to the one person who he wanted to keep it from

________________________________________________________

Jake and you were the couple everyone wanted to be. It was the classic trope, popular boy and nonpopular girl. At first, people thought you guys would only last a few day, a week at most.

So imagine everyone’s surprise when you and Jake are celebrating your one year anniversary. It was obvious you were madly in love with him, it was quite embarrassing at times but you never really let it affect you. You knew you loved him and that’s what mattered.

Jake on the other hand was openly obvious on how much he loved you. He didn’t care though, he was more than happy to show you off as his girl for everyone to see.

You and Jake celebrated your one year relationship in private with a beautiful candle lit dinner and a drive around the city, windows down and blasting music.

You remember that night when Jake tapped your shoulder and when you turned around, your heart dropped seeing Jake down on one knee.

He pulled a box from his jacket pocket and opened it. You gasped seeing the beautiful overlapped diamond ring. You looked at him and saw the way his eyes sparkled in the moonlight, his eyes held the universe in them.

“I know this may not be much yet, but I want to promise you the entirety of my love. I will never stop loving you and I promise the next time this happens, it won’t be a promise ring. It will be a real ring, asking for your hand in a an eternity of love” Jake took out the ring and held out his hand for you to offer

Your smile couldn’t be contained anymore, you offered your hand and Jake placed the promise ring onto your ring finger. When he got off his knee, you launched yourself into his arms. He giggled as you tightly hugged him.

You both were stupidly in love for each other and that didn’t bother neither of you one bit.

You weren’t surprised when Jake’s close friends decided to host an open invite party to celebrate the two of you’s one year relationship.

So the night of the party, you and Jake were already accepting the congratulations from everyone walking in the party on your one year relationship.

Jake had his hand on your waist, keeping you close to him. You giggled when he would place soft kisses against your temple, he smiled hearing you. He was in a bubble of you and he loved being in it every single second.

“Mind if I steal Jake for a minute?” Sunghoon appeared in front of the couple, already peeling Jake away from you

“Not really asking if you’re already taking him away Sunghoon” He sheepishly smiled at you before dragging away your boyfriend who gave an apologetic smile

You waved goodbye to the two fading figure and once they were gone you sighed and went on your phone to pass some time. Some people here and there continued to congratulate you on your relationship, you thanked them and went out with the night.

The minute waiting for Jake soon turned into 30 minutes and your feet were already hurting from standing and walking around the party.

Luckily, you managed to escape upstairs of the house, already feeling your social battery drained. You sat on the top of the staircase and looked passed the rails to everyone having the time of their lives.

You smiled softly as you rested your head against the rails, you closed your eyes and let your mind overrun with the blaring music playing.

But soon you were knocked out of your daze when you felt your phone vibrate. You anticipated it to be Jake wondering where you were, so to your disappointment when you saw it was just a random number texting you.

You were going to ignore the message, thinking it was a wrong number but the mention of your boyfriend in the conversation caught your attention quick.

: Hi, I know this may catch you by surprise and I’m sorry but I will really like for you to know something

: Shim Jake isn’t what he says he is

You: Excuse me who the hell are you?

: I rather keep my identity a secret but I am someone who used to be close with Jake, but I stopped being friends with him after what happened.

You were stunned as you read the message, you knew all of Jake’s friends even if he had so many of them, you knew most of them. So who could this person be?

You: What do you mean what happened?

: I’m so sorry to do this to you on your one year anniversary but I couldn’t handle holding onto this any longer. It’s unfair to you.

: [Attachment: 1 file]

: Please listen to the attachment, I’m so sorry

You: What the hell is this?

You: Who are you?

Your messages no longer sent to the number, they had blocked your number after randomly texting you about your boyfriend supposedly not being who is supposed to be.

You were going to delete the conversation but something was eating at you to listen to the attachment. It could be some sick prank that someone is playing on you, but the way your gut squeezed in unease was more than enough for you to shakily tap the attachment.

It was a video, you could notice it was Jake’s room. You could see Sunghoon and Jay, Jake’s two close friend sitting on the floor and your boyfriend sitting on his bed.

The person recording remained unknown to you, you assumed it must have been the person who texted you.

You played the video and raised the volume to hear it, the moment it began you could hear Jay and Sunghoon laughter. It was something you got used due to the frequent times you heard them when hanging out with the three of them.

“Alright Jake you ready for your bet?” It was Sunghoon’s voice

“Give it to me Sunghoon”

“I bet you can’t make a nonpopular fall in love with you”

“That’s your bet seriously Sunghoon? I thought you would give him something hard” Jay scoffed hearing the bet

“Oh but I’m not done yet. We get to choose who he had the pursue and if you can’t get them to fall in love with you in a span of 2 months you have to pay up”

“How much?” Jake’s voice sounded intrigued with the bet his friends were placing

“200 dollars” You could hear the Oo’s from the people in Jake’s room

“Alright, who are you giving me Sunghoon?”

Your heart pounded against your chest, not ready to hear the next words to come out of Sunghoon’s mouth. You didn’t want to believe it just yet, you hoped it was all still some sick prank.

But when you heard your name, you stared at the video not being able to comprehend the thoughts in your mind. There was a ringing in your ear, the blaring music faded into the background.

Soon you heard Jake snicker in video, your attention was brought back to the ongoing video.

“That’s easy Sunghoon, get ready to pay up 200 dollars. She’ll be in love with me in no time”

“Why are you so quiet Heeseung?” Jay suddenly asked causing the person who recorded to ultimately end the video

You stared at the ended video, you vision was blurry. You weren’t one to cry no matter what hit you, but this time it was different. You wanted nothing more but to scream and cry your eyes out.

You didn’t know it was possible to feel such pain in your heart, but it seemed Jake made it possible for you to feel it.

You aimlessly stood up and walked down the stairs. Everything was numb in that moment, the music was muffled in your ears, the ringing only getting worse. The tears burned your eyes, you tried so hard to keep them in but it was hard. One kept falling after another.

Everything you have ever known, felt, seen, experienced with someone who you thought loved you, turned out to be a lie. None of it was real, it was all some big delusion that you believed.

You believed that Jake had actually loved you.

You thought he felt the same, you thought everything you and Jake experienced together was real. You felt sick knowing that it was because of some stupid bet him and his friend made.

You were together with Jake for one year all because of a bet.

With everyone was too busy in their own world, they weren’t able to notice you and you were grateful for that. You headed towards the front door but was stopped when you felt a hand wrap around your wrist.

You turned to face Jake who smile soon fell when he saw your state. He soon felt anger take over him, seeing you crying thinking someone had done this to you.

“Who did this to you?” Jake’s voice change to a dark one, he was okay with people bothering him but when it came to his girl being bothered he wouldn’t take a single bit of it

“You did” Your voice was soft but somehow Jake was still able to catch it, he looked into your eyes and he felt his heart churn in unease

Jake gulped before dragging you back up the stairs to a private room in the house. When he closed the door, he faced you, who sat on a chair facing away from him. You had your hands covering your face as you tried to regain your composure but you couldn’t.

Jake walked over to you and kneeled down on his knees to remove your hands from your face. When he did, he saw your tear stained face and he wanted nothing but to take your pain away.

“Talk to me, what happened?” Jake’s voice was warm and soft, if it weren’t for the moment you would’ve melted into his voice but you could only scoff at him

“What happened? Humor me Jake, how did it feel like to play me like an idiot?” Jake froze in his place, you couldn’t have found out, there was no way you knew

“What are you talking about?” He knew he was going down a risky path, but he was willing to try anything in order to salvage his relationship with you

“Your little bet with your friends, Was I really that easy for you?” Each word felt like a stab of reality to Jake’s heart, you found out and he didn’t know what to do

“Say something!” You were growing frantic, you hated how he wasn’t saying anything after realizing you found out

“I’m sorry” Jake began to apologize nonstop and he held your hands tightly in his, you could feel his hand shaking

You scoffed and shook his hands off you and you got up from the chair, you were getting mad. Was that all he could say to you?

“You played me like an idiot Jake. You made me fall in love with you like an idiot, only to find out that I was just a mere bet”

“God I am so sorry, it wasn’t supposed to be like this” Jake muttered, shaking his head as he could feel the tears welling in his eyes

“What wasn’t supposed to be like this? That I wasn’t supposed to find out? You’re unbelievable Jake”

How could you be calm in this moment, you could feel your heart breaking with every single word he said. You could see the tears in his eyes and you wanted nothing more but to embrace him into a tight hug. But you stood strong, you knew that this probably will be the last time you will ever speak to him. You needed to make sure you don’t regret this moment.

“No! It’s not like that”

“Then what it is like ? Mhm? Please do tell me the bigger picture of this bet that I seemed to have missed” Jake stood silently, he couldn’t even face you any longer

He hung his head low as he face the ground, feeling the strong gaze you had on him. He could feel himself crumble into shame, he felt sick to his stomach for allowing this to ever happen.

“Was it worth it Jake?”

Those words were the thing that caused Jake to finally look at you again, your eyes were red and filled with tears. You looked broken in that moment and Jake hated himself for being the reason behind it, he promise himself after he fell in love with you that he only would be the reason behind your happiness.

Jake wanted to scream, he wanted to tell you that it wasn’t worth it. That you mattered much more than that stupid bet. He had so much to tell you but he couldn’t seem to find a coherent way to address them all.

So he stayed silent, his mouth opening every now and then to voice some words but nothing was able to come out. You only smiled, nodding your head with the tears falling once again.

You gave Jake a chance to explain himself but he came short and said nothing. You assumed that the bet was worth way more than you, you chuckled to yourself.

You really thought Jake loved you, how naive you thought.

Jake watched you as you began to take off the promise ring he gave you. He felt sick to his stomach, he wanted to stop you from taking it off. His hand reached out to stop you but his arm was shoved back by you.

You glared at him through the tears and roughly threw the ring at him. It hit his chest before falling to the ground next to his feet.

No other words were exchanged between the two of you before you opened the door and walked out, making sure to slam the door behind you. You quickly rushed out of the house, not wanting to be seen by anyone in this state.

But the moment you made it out the house and walked a block away from it, that was when you finally crumbled and sobbed into your hands. You never expected your first heartbreak to hurt this badly.

Jake stood in the room, trying to process what had just happened. Did he just lose you in a span of an hour? Jake looked down to the ring you threw at him, he bent down to pick it up with shaky hands. He let out a sob with a shaky smile as he held the ring in his hand, he should’ve known better.

He shouldn’t have played you in the first place. He never should’ve listened to his friends when making the dare. Now he had to face the consequences of his action, losing you, the only person he loved with his whole heart.

Jake rushed out the door, holding tightly onto your ring hoping that some day he can place it back on your finger. When he rushed down the stairs, he asked people if they had seen you. When every person he asked all said no about your whereabouts, he was growing frustrated.

Jay and Sunghoon saw Jake frantically running around the party with a tear stained face. They quickly went up to him but they were greeted with a shove from him.

“What the hell happened Jake?” Jay worriedly asked seeing how unstable their friend was becoming, Jay tried looking for you but you were no where in sight

“She found out” Jake hiccuped through his sobs as he could feel his body become weak at the thought that finally sunk in, he truly lost you

“Found out about what?” Sunghoon asked

“The fucking bet!” Jake yelled, not caring about the glances he was getting from the surrounding people

“Get everyone out, the party is over” Jake grumbled before pushing his friends to the side as he rushed out the house to look for you

Jake was greeted with the night breeze, he was able to breathe properly just for a moment before his breathing become heavy again. He grabbed his phone from his pocket as he opened his car, he started to call you nonstop.

When he was sent to voicemail after every call, he sent messages hoping that you would respond to him even if it would be to shut him up. He just wanted to know that you hadn’t blocked him yet.

He started his car and began to drive over to your place, he knew you must’ve went back home. He just hoped that you would be willing enough to hear him out even if it was just for a second.

Jake’s grip on his steering wheel was tight, he tried to even out his breathing but it was hard. He rolled down the windows in hopes that the fresh air could help him breathe better. But he was struck with the memory of you, sitting in the passenger seat window rolled all the way down as the wind hit your face.

He wanted to cry even more but refrained from doing so. He gulped down his sob, roughly wiped the tears in eyes, stepping on the gas pedal even harder. He needed to arrive to your place as fast as he could, he needed to fix everything.

When Jake arrived at your place, he knocked and knocked hoping that you would open it but when he noticed all the lights out and no response. You must have not went home that night.

Jake plopped himself onto the stairs leading to your front door, he laid his head against the rails and sighed heavily. His eyes were closed tightly as he bit his lip to stop the quivering of them.

He will stay the whole night if he has to. He just needed to see you again.

The next morning you were dropped off at your place thanks to your friend who kindly allowed you to stay the night. She didn’t try to pry when you called her sobbing asking if you could crash her place for the night. She just welcomed you with open arms, and you couldn’t feel more thankful.

“You can crash at my place tonight, if you need to. You know the passcode” Your friend smiled warmly and you could only give a heartily smile, you face hurt from all the crying you did last night

“I’ll let you know if I will” You opened her car door and walked out it, waving goodbye as she drove off

You sighed before walking to your place, you grabbed your keys out. When you looked up to your front door, you shrieked when you saw Jake sleeping against the rails.

The shriek caused Jake to shoot his eyes wide open to see you you standing in front of him. He roughly rubbed his eyes, checking if it just wasn’t his mind playing tricks on him.

When your figure didn’t disappear, he let out a smile before standing up. You notice his bloodshot red eyes, the tears he failed to wipe away on his cheek, the way his usual styled hair was disheveled.

You knew you weren’t in the best condition either, but it was obvious who was in the better condition between the two and it definitely wasn’t Jake.

“What the hell are you doing here? Did you wait all night here?” You asked, you hated how you were still worried about him but you couldn’t blame yourself it has only been a night since everything went down

“I waited for you to return” Jake muttered and you sighed deeply at his words, you closed your eyes for a moment before opening them again

“Can we talk please?” Jake’s voice always managed to do something to you and this moment was no different, you nervously gulped down

You knew you shouldn’t hear him out, but part of you still had hope for whatever salvage was left for the relationship.

“You have 5 minutes and then I want you out” You lightly shoved Jake as you walked up the stairs to open the front door, when you opened the door you expected Jake to walk in but when you noticed he was still at the bottom of the staircase you sighed

“Are you not going to come in?” Jake stared at you dumbfounded for a moment before rushing up the stair and hesitantly entering your place

Of course this wasn’t the first time he was here but it was definitely the first time where he felt uncomfortable to be in your place and in your presence. He didn’t actually expect you to agree so when you did, he was beyond happy but nonetheless nervous.

“I suggest you start talking” You told, you were in no mood to mess around, you were tired, your eyes hurt from the crying, you wanted nothing more but to crash

“Look at me” Jake’s voice was soft but you didn’t dare to look at him, you know if you did, you wouldn’t be able to stay strong, you would crumble before him

“Please look at me” Jake’s hand hovered over your chin, he was hesitant to lay a finger on you not wanting to make you feel less comfort

When you swallowed and looked up to face Jake, you felt yourself fall into the abyss of love. You knew you wouldn’t be able to stay strong if you saw him so up close to you.

Jake gave you a quick smile, the same damn smile that made you weak in your heart for him.

“I’m going to be honest with you from the very beginning, I never meant for this ever happen”

“You’re right, I first talked to you as part of the bet. It was stupid one I made with the others, we and especially I didn’t expect for the bet to go beyond more than just a bet”

“The more we continued to spend time together, the more I realize how wonderful you were. You made my heart do backflips and I knew that wasn’t normal. I was scared at first, I knew what this meant. I was growing feelings for you”

“Even though it was all supposed to be a bet to make you fall in love with me, I was the one that fell so madly in love with you”

“So I cursed Sunghoon and Jay out and told them the bet was off. I wanted to pursue you fully and solely based on my own feelings and not because of the bet”

“The one year that we spent together must have been the best year of my life, you made me feel alive. That’s rich coming from me since I’m known to always be going out every weekend. Yet, you changed that in me”

“I realized that I didn’t need to go out every weekend to have fun. All I need was you and I was set for the rest of my life”

“I know I messed up big time. I know and I don’t even feel like I deserve to even been in your presence after everything I did”

“But I’m so in love with you that I’m willing to fight to possible salvage the little bit of hope that I have in my heart”

“I love you so much”

“I’m so sorry for causing you so much pain. All I wanted was to make to you happy. I completely understand if you don’t forgive me, you can hate me all you want”

“I truly am so sorry for everything. I really do love you. Don’t question my love for you in the slightest. Every ‘I love you’ I told you, everything that I told you was real and true”

You didn’t notice how badly you were crying as you heard his words. You felt a slight anger but mostly relief knowing the relationship began because Jake truly fell in love with you. Even if the reason why you two began to talk was because of a bet, the rest of it was because of the love you had for one another.

Jake himself didn’t even realize he also had tears falling down his face. His hand hesitantly went to cup your cheek and wipe your tears away.

“I always hated to see you cry” Jake muttered, his thumb creasing your cheek, his touch was soft afraid if he held you hard, he would lose you

“You’re so stupid Jake” You chuckled against the tears to which he mimicked, you and Jake were in a chuckling mess

“I’m only stupid for you” Your lips curved up in a smile as you heard his words, he knew how to melt your heart

“I love you too Jake” It was rare for you to be the one that initiates those words, most of the time it was Jake but whenever you did say it, he always savored it

Jake felt his heart soar through cloud nine, he felt as if he fell in love with you all over again. He smiled brightly as he softly wrapped his arms around you in a hug.

“Do you have my ring?” You asked in the hug and Jake thought you would never asked, when he pulled away from the hug, he dug into his pocket and he pulled out the promise ring

“Will you let me do the honor putting it on you again?” Jake kneeled only one knee as he held the ring between his fingers, you giggled at his words, your hands running through his hair to smooth it out

“You’ll be the only one I’ll ever allow” You offered hand to which Jake softly grasped, placing the promise ring back on your finger where it was meant to be all along

The way you and Jake looked at each other as he rose from his kneel before he placed a kiss onto your cheek, you smiled warmly at his action.

The two of you were still stupidly in love with each other, and to no doubt would that ever fade away.

“To an eternity with you my girl”

#shim jake #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen writer #enhypen imagines #enhypen jake #shim jaeyun #shim jake x reader #shim jake imagine #enhypen fic #enhypen oneshots

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mattslutt · 25 days

Text

ARGUMENT

m.sturniolo

contains: fluff, angst, lots of kisses.

summary: chris and matt got into a fight over you. later you found matt cleaning himself up from the blood in your bathroom so you help him which lead into confessions.

The atmosphere was surrounded with yelling, screaming. I pushed myself through the people to see what was going on because I knew that recently Matt and Chris weren’t getting along for one reason : me.

As I pushed myself through a few final people I slowly slowed down and froze in place when I saw Chris and Matt beating each other on the ground in front of all the people. There was blood on the floor and the fight just kept happening. Nobody was planning to stop them. Everyone was screaming the usual stuff when fights happen : “fight fight, beat his ass”, and all the stuff you typically hear.

Matt was the first one to get off of Chris, he wiped the blood off of his nose.

“Screw you, asshole”.

Chris slowly got on his feet to and he was teasing Matt in a way that could make him mad again, I saw his jaw clench and him forming a fist but he stopped. I was relived a bit and happy that Matt didn’t let Chris’s words get too much into his head.

“Backing up from a fight means you’re just weak”, Chris blurted out. Matt ignored it and left the living room and everyone went back to normal like nothing ever happened. I immediately walked up to Chris, when he saw me walking up to him he smiled but I was quick enough to wipe that smile off of his face by slapping him.

“What the fuck?”, Chris was bewildered.

“You’re absolutely unbelievable for starting a fight at a party. Want to boost your ego that bad?”.

Chris stood in silence for a few minutes but then proceeded to smirk and he placed his hand on my cheek.

“You’re cute when you’re mad”.

I shook my head and took his hand off of my cheek. I started walking away from him but I heard him say stuff that made me feel disgusted, the way he talked about his brother.

“You’re weak just like him. Can’t stand up for yourself. You guys are meant to be”, Chris scoffed as he walked up to a random group of girls. I rolled my eyes and continued walking, I went to my room and closed the door. For no reason I felt tears running down my face, was the fight because of me?

I walked inside my bathroom and I saw Matt standing in front of the mirror, he was cleaning his face, still wiping the blood off and I could see his eyes were teary.

“Hey”, I softly whispered.

“Hey”, he responded but he didn’t look at me. I slowly walked to him and looked at his face.

“Ouf, looks rough”, I gently touched his face to look at the mess on his face, he let me touch his face. I took the napkin into my hands and started to wash his face. He was looking straight into my eyes the whole time.

“So you wanna tell me why the two of you were fighting?”.

There was a moment of silence which made me nervous.

“You have nothing to worry about”, he said.

“Not to worry when the two of you are covered in blood from the fighting?.”

He sighed but he continuously looked into my eyes, his gaze was soft and I could feel his eyes were trying to tell me something but I couldn’t read it.

“We were fighting because of you”.

My hands froze in place for a few seconds.

“Talk more”, I urged him, I wanted to know everything.

“This is gonna sound so fucking stupid”.

“Nothing sounds stupid”.

He softly smiled at me and took a deep breath before speaking.

“There’s no easy way to say this, but we both like you. And I guess we hate the fact that one of us will get you and the other one will have to watch it happen.”

Oh my god. I could have thought about hundreds of reasons why they fought over me but it definitely wasn’t this.

There was that same silence again.

“Please say something.”, Matt whispered, he sounded desperate, he needed to know every thought that was racing through my mind.

“I don’t know what to say”, I replied, washing the napkin with water and putting a mini bandaid on his face. Then I just looked into his eyes.

“Anything. Anything, I just need to know”.

“Need to know what?”.

“How you feel.”

I knew how I felt, in fact I always knew who I love and like more. It was always Matt, I was just good at hiding it.

“Listen Matt,” I was cut off by Matt.

“Before you say anything I just wanna let you know that whatever happens between us, I’ll always love you and if you do choose Chris, I will understand and-“, before Matt could finish his sentence I placed my lips on his.

“You really think I would choose Chris after what he did and said?”, I smiled at him while my hand was on his cheek.

Matt chuckled with happiness as he leaned in to kiss me again, wrapping his arms around my body pulling in me closer. He broke away from the kiss as he rested his forehead on mine and just looked me in the eyes.

“Do you know how beautiful you are, sweetheart?”.

I smiled at his words as I leaned in to kiss him again and I felt him lift me up a bit and spin me in circles. I giggled into the kiss as he placed me onto the ground again and just looked at me, his eyes were sparkling, and so were mine. He slowly and gently squeezed my arm and placed a kiss on it.

“You have no idea how long I was waiting for those words”.

“I wanted to tell them sooner but I couldn’t.”

“Why? All of this would have happened so sooner”, he was playing with my hair while listening to me, never breaking eye contact.

I just looked at him and admired him, he saw me admiring him a little too much and he just giggled and leaned in to kiss me again.

“Do I really need to answer the question when we both got we wanted?”, I whispered in between the kisses.

“No need”, Matt replied pulling away from the kiss but he hugged me tightly.

I finally felt peace and I felt safe; because I was finally in his arms where I always felt the most comfort.

____________________________________________

this shit was so cute to write omg :( i hope you guys will love it as much as i do. love you all and sorry for ghosting tumblr, i had no motivation but i’ll try my best to write more💗💗

taglist: @sturniolosstar @sturncrazy @sturnsblunt @plasticferal @55sturn @freshloverr @gamermattsgf @westwiing13 @mbbsgf @hoesformatt

#matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo fanfic #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #viralpost #mattslutt #viralfanfi

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greatooglymooglyyy · 3 months

Text

Spaces, II (Matt Sturniolo)

part one

contains: angst, fluff, making up, alludes to sex, kissing, general relationship issues, 950 words

a/n: I'm the worst at series cus I just wanna post it all immediately but here's part two and @opheliaofficial07 here's your tag.

I genuinely don’t know what’s worse: the fact that Matt hasn’t called me back yet or the fact that I’m sitting here like a lame-ass loser waiting for him to.

God, I gotta get a grip but standing on business is really fucking difficult when that business is Matt Sturniolo. I grab my phone and call Nick before I lose it and do something beyond corny. He answers after only a couple of rings and I widen my eyes in mock horror.

“Oh god. I must be well and truly fucked if you answered when I called unannounced.”

“Yeah, enjoy this. Never happening again.” Nick throws back and then tilts his head and sighs. “I’m not talking about Matt with you.”

“Who?”

Nick gives me a very unimpressed look, “Girl. Be fucking for real.” I laugh and flip over on my stomach.

“No, but seriously. I didn’t call for him. I called for my friend. I need my friend.” I say, cringing slightly at how pathetic I sound.

“The fuck? Are you dying or something?” Nick jokes before adding, “You really do need me. What’s up with this hair?”

“Alright, fuck you guy-”

I lay around joking with Nick for an hour before he says he has to go. “Kk. I’ll see you when you’re home.” I say, a little sad to be alone again. He pauses before hanging up.

“I love you. It’ll work out.”

“I hope so." I say with a sigh.

“It will. Or I’ll kill you both. I can’t with the moping.” He says groaning before ending the call.

I toss my phone down and reach for my laptop, searching up Love Island and hitting play on a random season. Just as Maya Jama announces the first boy, I hear my front door open and freeze. Who the fuck? I close the laptop and try not to panic, sliding off of my bed and hiding below it. But, before I can start getting my survival plan together, I hear a very confused and familiar voice call my name.

I peek my head out and gaze up at Matt who is looking at me like I’ve lost every single piece of my mind.

“Matt, what are you doing here?” I ask, a little out of breath as I slide from under my bed.

“You know, I just feel like a better question is why you just popped from under there like a little gremlin. But okay.” He takes off his backpack and drops down onto my desk chair, spinning it around to face me.

I study his face closer now. He looks a little tired and disheveled, but unfortunately still way too attractive for it to be fair.

“No seriously. Aren’t you supposed to be on a trip right now?” I ask, still keeping my distance.

“I mean, yeah. But I had to make sure everything was good at home.” He says, gesturing to me and making my heart skip a beat.

But I play it cool and cross my arms. “And I’m home, now?”

“You’ve always been home. Even before I knew that.” He leans forward, hooking his finger through my belt loop, and pulls me to him. I stand between his legs and look down at him, reaching to push his hair back. He runs his hands up and down the side of my legs as I meet his eyes, trying my hardest to bottle this moment.

I break eye contact and look over his shoulder as I admit, “Matt, I just feel like you’re slipping through my fingers lately and I don’t know what to do. It’s fucking terrifying loving you like this.”

Matt says nothing for a few seconds but when I go to pull away, he pulls me down onto his lap so I’m straddling him.

“Listen, you are a priority to me. I’m sorry I haven’t been acting like it but you are. I think it’s just easy to take for granted that you’re the one thing I’ve got figured out.” He reaches down and interlocks one of our hands bringing it to his chest. “And if you don’t think I’m terrified, you’re crazy. Every time I have to leave you and I know it’s gonna be for a minute, my fucking chest aches right here.” He circles a spot in the middle of his chest with our hands and I lean forward to rest my forehead against his shoulder. He lets my hand go and snakes his arms around my waist, tugging me even closer.

“So how do we fix it?” I ask into his shoulder, then drop a kiss there before I lean back to look at him.

“We’re gonna make a calendar and share it. When you can be with me, you’ll be with me. When you can’t, we’ll make time. But we’re not doing this again.” He answers with a tone that says he’s been thinking about this a lot.

I smile at him now, “You’ve got all the answers, huh”

“That’s me. The man with the plan.” He jokes, leaning forward to drop kisses down the side of my jaw.

“Oh and Matt?”

“Hmmm?”

“Next time, tell Addison Rae to give you space to breathe.”

“That wasn’t even Addison. It was-”

At the look I give him, Matt snaps his mouth closed and mimes zipping it. “Sorry, sorry.” He stands up, taking me with him as he heads over to my bed.

“You know you can’t just sex me into not being mad anymore, right?” I say with a laugh as he drops me onto the mattress. He smiles, climbing on top of me and finally pressing his lips into mine.

“I wasn’t planning on trying to. But now that you mention it-”

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo oneshot #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fluff #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo oneshots #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader

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novalpha · 1 year

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𝙈𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙚/𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙬𝙤𝙣 𝑭𝒊𝒄 𝑹𝒆𝒄𝒔

♡ Fluff || ୨୧ Angst || ★ Smut || ꗃ SMAU || ⌗ Series || ✿ Drabble || ♤ Mature (No smut) || ✹ Humor

[ These do not contain ship (Mingyu x wonwoo) fic recs. (Maybe slight unless stated in fics) ]

(Contains poly, love triangle, and others)

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Glitch ୨୧♡★ -> @gamerwoo

Summary: After your boyfriend goes missing and you can all only assume he’s dead, your boss assigns you a new partner. But considering you don’t want to get close to anybody again in fear of something going wrong again, living together is a lot easier said than done. However, you don’t get hurt the way you think you will.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ A break ♡★ -> @smileysuh

Synopsis: You and Mingyu live a perfect life. He’s an idol by day, and a doting husband by night, who showers your new baby with adoration. Life is easy- but when Mingyu starts paying more attention, he realizes why things are so easy: because it’s not just the two of you raising your baby, there’s a third person involved, and your baby has no concept of what differentiates a dad from a baby sitter.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Bittersweet ୨୧♡★✹⌗ -> @number1mingyustan

Summary: your priorities have always been surrounding your education. but what happens when you ask your neighbor to help you let loose a little and just maybe catch the eye of his best friend?

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Rules ♡★ -> @smileysuh

Synopsis: Morning sex with Mingyu is always really amazing- but it comes with rules.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Eggs, Bacon & Sausage sandwich ♡★ -> @bitchlessdino

Summary: Mingyu being the common denominator for the strained acquaintanceship of both you and Wonwoo, he's determined to make this friendship work.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Anteric ♡★ -> @smileysuh

when you bump into the guy that ghosted you, your model best friend and roommate, Mingyu, steps up to be your fake boyfriend for the night... and when the asshole is hired at your workplace, your other roommate, twitch gamer Wonwoo, is roped into the charade too - “polyamory exists dude, get over it.”

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Roomies ♡♤ -> @fairiewonu

summary: you suggest an idea for your two bickering roommates wonwoo and mingyu

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Besties ♡✹★ -> @smileysuh

Synopsis: Your best friend drags you to a frat party despite your budding relationship with a man named Mingyu, and your best friend even convinces you to let loose, after all, you might not be single for much longer... however when he tells you to let your freak flag fly and kiss randoms- neither of you can foresee the massive blunder you make when ‘some random’ ends up being the best friend of your new ‘boyfriend not boyfriend’.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Between heaven + hell ♡★ -> @beahae Kiss her once for me , Two is better than one

Summary: Two of your hot friends get very into their halloween costumes. But when they said they were going to be an angel and a devil, this is not what you expected.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Class project ★ -> @smileysuh

synopsis. You’re less than enthusiastic about being paired with notorious frat boys Mingyu and Wonwoo for a class project. They make it a point to change your opinion of them... by being the ultimate meanies.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Good to us ★ -> @multi-kpop-fanfics

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Celebrated ★ -> @smileysuh

synopsis: after a long week working overseas, mingyu calls you and wonwoo to make sure you still miss him. And, because he’s the ‘breadwinner’ of the day, supposedly- he’s going to get to call more of the shots ;)

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Getting closer ★♡✹ -> @milfgyuu Part 2

Summary: As it turns out, you could learn a few things about yourself from your roomies who are far more attuned to your needs than you thought.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Hazed ★♡ -> @smileysuh

synopsis: tensions have been high for a while, but an edible becomes the catalyst to a trio’d ascension to cloud 9, being a little hazy has never felt so good

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Midnight appetite ★ -> @writeformesinpie

Summary - You have found yourself in possession of an invite to the exclusive host club The Midnight Appetite. Within moments of walking into the establishment, one of the hosts sinks his claws in, staking his claim on you for the night. It isn’t long, though, before he adds another to your table. This isn’t how you thought your night would go.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Call him bestie in bed ♡୨୧★ -> @luxekook

summary: you realize you’re in love with your best friends. chaos ensues.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ From winter to spring ♡୨୧✹ -> @viastro @sunlightwoo

synopsis: ‘all good things come with a cost.’ mingyu was warned from the beginning of your marriage as it somehow led to your divorce. so at the cost of him divorcing you, what did it mean for him if he found himself going back in time to see your life without him?

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Work husband ♡✹ -> @rubyreduji

summary: your two coworkers get a bit too involved in becoming your “work husband”

[ More meanie Recs will be updated ]

Want more Seventeen fic recs? -> Click here

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kooshours · 8 months

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jeon's garage || TEASER

CH. 1 RELEASED.

pairing: motorcycle mechanic!Jungkook x reader.

genre: lots of fluff, smut, angst

rating: explicit. read at your own discretion, heed the warnings!

series summary: Being sheltered by your older brother while growing meant having none of the experiences that other normal teenagers had. No parties, extracurriculars, trips, or anything that was remotely dangerous to your wellbeing. Even now as you were a 21-year-old college student, his protectiveness never diminished. You wanted to show your brother that you were an adult now and could make your own decisions, so you decided to do one of the most drastic things you could think of to make a statement. You want to own your first motorcycle. To do that though, you need a mechanic to help you fix up the trashed bike you found in the junkyard. Unknowingly seeking the help of one of your brother's closest friends, you find yourself falling for one of the people you were hid from.

warnings: casual swearing, mentions of substance abuse/absent parents, characters drinking alcohol and smoking, mentions/references to sex along with sexual content. (there will be warnings before each chapter if contained)

word count: usually around 4-6k per chapter. teaser word count: 749 words.

planned release: September 14th, 6:00 PM EST.

taglist: open! comment to join :)

----------------------

"This is a terrible idea." The first thing you heard as you stood with your best friend of ten years, Jaehyun, in the middle of a junkyard and staring at a motorcycle. Well, what was a sorry excuse for a motorcycle. Having been thrown away and forgotten in a dump, it was almost completely trashed. Any of the partially useful parts had been taken by anyone else who could make use of it. Now all that was left was the skeleton of what probably was a 20 year old motorbike.

"This is an amazing idea." You replied with a small grin. All in all, you knew your best friend was right. What kind of idiot got a random motorcycle from the junkyard? You did. It was the only way you could hide your newfound hobby from your older brother.

Growing up, your older brother had always been protective over you. Namjoon had major trust issues with anyone that entered your life and criticized anything you did that had the possibility of putting you in danger. So you knew that the moment you tried to tell him that you wanted to try and ride motorcycles, he would lose his shit. You'd probably lose your dear older brother to a heart attack.

You know that it was only because he loved you so much. Due to living in a not-so-good household, your older brother was the main one who took care of you. He deserved to be as protective as he was when everything in life just wanted to bite the two of you in the ass. He was 4 years old and taking care of you, teaching himself how to make the baby formula because your parents were too busy getting high off anything they could buy in a dark alleyway.

Because of that, your brother had learned not to trust anyone. He grew up to hate drugs and alcohol, to build walls around him and lose all of his faith in humanity. The only exception to these beliefs were you, and of course his best friends. But nobody was an exception to who he trusted around you, and that was including the 6 boys that he had been close with ever since middle school. He barely even tolerated Jaehyun and you had known him for 10 years.

His overbearing protectiveness was the reason that you had never once met the guys that he called his brothers. He also made it clear that they didn't know a single thing about you either. All they knew was that Namjoon had a younger sister in her third year of university, and she was strictly off limits, no exceptions whatsoever. It was the only strict boundary that he had with all of his friends. The one thing that he was firm with and would never change no matter what. The moment any of them tried to get close to you, they would be dead to Namjoon.

and yet, later the next day...

"____. Kim ____." You quickly introduced yourself, also realizing that he didn't know your name. His smile widened even more when you said your name.

"I'm Jeon Jungkook, the owner of the garage. It's lovely to meet you, ____." He replied warmly, and you felt your heart skip a beat when he said your name. You felt like this whole situation was way too good to be true the whole time you were both working out the days that you would come to visit his garage to keep him company while he worked on the bike. He estimated that he'd have to work on it for around a month if you could come in 5 days a week for a couple hours each day. You were suddenly much more excited for the next few weeks. The start to your day didn't even matter to you anymore. What on earth did you even do to win this lottery?

Never did you think that you would end up in this situation, and yet here you were. Getting a deal on your bike in exchange for spending a few hours each day with one of the most charming and attractive men you had the privilege to look at? At yet here you were, watching the giddy man as he scribbled his personal number onto a piece of paper with a promise of texting him when you wanted to start your bike project. Little did neither of you know what exactly you had both gotten into.

#jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jungkook drabble #jeon jungkook x reader #jeongguk imagine #jeon jungkook smut #jeongguk smut #bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x y/n #jungkook comfort #jungkook angst

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asahicore · 1 year

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we’ll always have this summer - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact pairing. sunghoon x fem!reader synopsis. Your mom ruins your summer plans by sending you to the equestrian center your grandmother owns in the south of France, wanting you to spend some time away from the city and take a break from your med studies. Although you’d been determined to spend the worst time ever there, you soon find out that maybe the cold but cute horse nerd next door who doesn’t want to talk to you might actually turn this summer into the best one of your life. genre. summer au, strangers to mutual dislike to friends to lovers ig, city girl x country boy type beat, mainly fluff and smut but also angst cause i love pain word count. 25.9k a/n. hi sisters i'm super excited to repost this, it was really fun rereading and editing it, and i hope that all of you who had enjoyed reading it last summer will still like it this time around and that those of you who hadn't read it will enjoy it now <3 i had also posted an sfw version, so if anyone would like that too, pls lmk! ok thats it let me know what u think love you bye

Sunghoon was going to have a very normal, uneventful summer. He would take a very much needed break from his studies and take care of the equestrian center he lives in, letting his parents take a breather and enjoy their summer. He’d wake up early and do everything he needed to, then spend the afternoon on horseback or sleeping in a random field. It’d be a routine his body is used to and likes, and he’d be able to let his worries go for a while. But then, you came along.

You, who’d had big plans for the summer. You, who should’ve been going on a two-week vacation with your friends to Mallorca as a treat for having aced your second-year medical school final exams and as a celebration for getting an internship in the hospital of your choice. You, who would’ve done nothing for those two weeks but sunbathe, read trashy romance novels, and get margarita-drunk at 2pm, and would’ve spent the rest of the summer hanging out with your friends in Paris, your home, and taking day trips to random French cities. This summer would be your last fun, carefree summer before you were thrown into real semi-adult life, and you were going to make the best of it. That’s what you had planned; to your utmost despair, your mom seemed to have other ideas in mind.

“We’ve gone over this a thousand times now, sweetie. You’re going. It’ll be good for you.”

“You know what will be good for me?” you say, close on her tail as you descend the stairs. “Relaxing and having fun with my friends for two weeks. Not cleaning horse manure and having to walk ten kilometers to get service.”

“It’ll be one or two kilometers at most, dear, not ten.”

“Ugh!” you groan ostentatiously. Your mother only shoots you a don’t-be-so-dramatic look. You glare back at her.

“It’ll be good for you,” she repeats, turning back to whatever was occupying her in the kitchen before you started arguing with her as you plop down on one of the stools at the center island. “You’ve seen neither your grandmother nor the countryside in ages, so it’ll be a nice change. What’s more, they say the best doctors are the ones who’ve done different jobs, you know.”

“Who’s ever said that…” you mutter under your breath, a clear look of distaste on your face. “But anyway, I see Mamie every Christmas at Auntie’s in Perpignan, and even if I didn’t, whose fault is it I never go to the countryside? You never bring me there.”

Your mother lifts her head and looks at you. “I’m too busy to make the journey all the way there. You’ve seen it, there’s two trains and two buses, I can’t do all that. Which is why we settle for Marseille. Direct train, easy. You, on the other hand,” she says, pointing to you with her wooden spoon, “will have plenty of time this summer.”

“Yeah, time I could’ve spent on a beach in Spain or with my friends here!” You know you’re being annoying, but you can’t help it. You really want to go to Mallorca.

She sighs. “I just need you to trust me on this one, honey. You’ll have tons of other summers to do all that. Your grandmother is getting old, so I want you to have at least some memories with her before… you know. I know it’s our fault you didn’t see her more often, so this is our way of making up for it!”

Your father walks in the kitchen, materializing out of nowhere as he often does. “Your mother’s right, you know.” They both peer down at you, and you know then you really don’t get a say in this. “I had an amazing bond with my grandfather, and I want for you to have something similar with your grandmother. She’s the only grandparent you’ve got left, and I promise you, you don’t want to let that go to waste.” You still don’t look fully convinced, so he adds, “Plus, you already get along well, right? You always talk lots when you see each other at Christmas.”

Your father does have a point. You know the problem isn’t being with your grandmother, anyway. Truth be told, you were quite looking forward to spending more time with her. She had a great sense of fashion, and you were sure she had many stories to tell you. It was the fact that you had to spend your summer in a godforsaken town of Southern France where the nearest town was seven kilometers away and the nearest city almost a forty-minute drive. Where you lived in Paris, you had everything you needed in a five-minute walk radius, and you just needed to hop on the Metro or the train to go anywhere else. And it was an equestrian center, of all places. You didn’t even like horses.

“Also,” your mother starts, dragging out the vowel, “the family that lives in the house next door has a boy your age. I heard he’s cute.” She wiggles her eyebrows and you groan at her, which just makes your parents laugh more. You don’t want to stereotype, but you highly doubt a boy who lives in an equestrian center in the middle of God-knows-where is anywhere as handsome as the boys you see everywhere in the capital city. Hot people live in cities; to you, that’s always been a fact.

And as if a stupid boy could make this any better anyway.

Your mother wasn’t lying when she said the journey was long. You took the Metro from your apartment to the train station, then a rapid train to Perpignan, a regional train to Argelès, and a bus to the town of Laroque-des-Albères. And that wasn’t even it - there could’ve been a second bus, but your grandmother had arranged for the neighbors’ son to come and pick you up and drive you to the small commune named La Pierrerie where the equestrian center was.

To your dismay, there was another thing your mother had been right about; the neighbors’ son being cute. When you get off the bus, you look around the almost empty parking spot with no idea of who you’re supposed to look for. But he must see your lost expression and all your luggage and assume you’re the one he had come to pick up, so he calls out your name. Your head snaps towards the direction of the voice, and the moment your eyes settle on him, you have to hold yourself from gaping at him like a dead fish. For someone who supposedly spends his weekends and vacations outside, taking care of horses, cleaning stalls and doing handiwork, his features are… delicate. The perfect blend of sharp and soft - a round face contrasted by a knifelike jaw, plump lips, his eyebrows forming a straight line over his almond-shaped eyes. But you find roughness on his face is in the crease of his eyebrows as he peers down at you. You haven’t done anything yet, but he already clearly disapproves of you.

There’s a scowl on his face - he may be pretty, but he’s definitely not welcoming. You walk towards him, dragging your luggage behind you, and he doesn’t move to help you until you reach the car, and finally he opens the trunk and hauls one of your suitcase in.

“Thank you,” you breathe, looking up at him, “um?”

A beat passes as your eyes lock, and he looks so bored you think he might not even bother to give you his name, but thank God he does. “Sunghoon.”

You decide not to let his rudeness get to you and put on a bright smile, but by the time you’re done saying “nice to meet you,” he’s already gotten in the driver’s seat. He starts the car without another word, and your efforts at any sort of conversation are so fruitless that you give up after two minutes of asking questions that are only met with two-word sentences. You can only hope that his family isn’t as unfriendly as he is, otherwise you’d be in for one hell of a summer.

When you arrive in La Pierrerie, it’s almost nine p.m., and you’re exhausted from your long journey and from carrying around such heavy suitcases. Still in complete silence, Sunghoon takes two of your bags and heads towards what you can only assume is your grandmother’s house. You go to follow him, but you soon notice your grandmother and another woman, who you guess is Sunghoon’s mother, sitting at a table, sipping on some lemonade. As soon as they see you arrive, they rush towards you (well, the woman does - your grandmother walks as fast as she can), helping you with the rest of your baggage. They kiss you on both cheeks as a greeting, starting from the right but you’re used to starting from the left, which almost makes your lips bump into each other. Thankfully, they laugh it off, and you make sure to remember the local custom to avoid future potentially awkward encounters.

The woman introduces herself as Mrs Park and tells you she lived next-door to your grandmother, just like you’d guessed. She says that she’s happy to meet you and hopes that you had a nice trip and that you weren’t too tired for the meal she and your grandmother had prepared for tonight. You like her instantly - her kind eyes and warm smile make you feel at home right away.

Your grandmother hugs you too, and you had to admit it felt nice seeing her after such a long time. Such a sweet welcome revives you a bit, and a nagging voice in your head tells you, see, this isn’t that bad, this summer might be good after all, but you quickly shut it down. Your stubborn nature wants you to hate this for at least a little bit, especially after the excruciating car ride you just had to sit through. You won’t show it to your hosts, obviously, because you want to be respectful, but you can at least scowl and curse your parents when nobody’s looking.

There’s no time for awkward silence and looking back and forth between the two women because as soon as the greetings are over, Mrs Park announces she’ll go heat up the food and get the last things ready while your grandmother shows you around her home, which would be yours for the next two months and a half, and lets you unpack for a bit.

Your grandmother’s house is on two floors. The ground floor is basically one big room, which the front door leads directly into. There’s the kitchen, the dining room and the living room. It’s all very open and bright, and you can tell it must be very warm when the sunlight poured directly through the large windows into the room at the right time of day. It’s simply decorated, with furniture that probably hasn’t been updated in a while but that is well maintained and looks cozy enough. Black-and-whites and photographs of fuzzy quality are hung on the wall of the dining room and you’re eager to take a closer look at them later on.

Upstairs are two bedrooms and the bathroom, as well as a mezzanine that’s a few steps lower than the rest of the floor and that looks over the living room. This is where your grandmother keeps her books and her trophies from her past very successful horse riding career. There are a couple armchairs in the corner and a window to bring more light in, and you’re sure this would make an amazing reading nook for late evenings or stormy afternoons.

Your room is not much more than a double bed, a chest of drawers, a cupboard to hang your clothes in and a few empty shelves. Your grandmother had told you you were welcome to bring any kind of decoration you wanted to make this room yours for the summer, so you’d taken with you a few posters and framed pictures as well as some babbles you liked looking at. She’d picked out some daisies from her garden and made a bouquet out of them, livening up the vase on your bedside table.

She sits on your bed as you put your clothes away (which you had brought so many of, you weren’t sure there’d be enough room to put them all in) and tells you how she’d come to live here with the Parks. This is something you like about her - she has many stories to tell, each more fascinating than the other, and she’s always willing to tell them.

Your grandmother had actually grown up not too far from here, on the other side of town. Her parents had signed her up for lessons every Wednesday afternoon for a few years, until her instructor recognised her potential and told her she could ride professionally if she wanted. So, she started having two-hour lessons four times a week. When she started winning local, then regional, then national championships, she moved to Perpignan to be taught by more qualified instructors in a more renowned riding club.

Years forward, she got pregnant and her career as a rider was over. When her kids were old enough, she got a job as an instructor and even managed a few athletes of the club in Perpignan, but she continued to visit her old club in Laroque once in a while, as she always did throughout her career. She’d seen it wear down and lose customers over the years to the point that at the end of the nineties, it was under threat of closing down. Her old teacher had long passed and her son and his wife had taken over. This son, who was a bit older than your grandmother, had worked there his whole life, but it wasn’t what he wanted to do - as the only son, he’d had no choice but to stay and take care of the club. However, he hadn’t wanted it to close that way, and he was still desperate to keep the club alive, especially because his own son truly loved it and wanted to take over and manage it once he was done with high school.

Your grandmother, with more money than she needed from her successful career and the inheritance she got from her husband’s passing, offered to buy the club from the Parks and manage its finances while they took care of the horses and of lessons. Her only condition was that she could move in in the other house on the property that wasn’t inhabited and needed a few renovations. They agreed immediately.

Mr Park graduated from high school in 1998, got married to the now Mrs Park in 2000, and they had their first child, Sunghoon, in 2002 - the same year as you. His parents moved out to the city and got new jobs that they liked a lot more while the club, thanks to your grandmother’s donations and Mr and Mrs Park’s hard work, prospered once again. It did help that an Olympic rider sometimes helped out with lessons and gave out advice for aspiring athletes.

And now, here you are, twenty years later, visiting her for the first time since you were probably six. You don’t have many memories from those few times you’d been here, so it was all new to you. Especially that Sunghoon boy, whom your grandmother was sure you would get along with based on how chummy you were back in 2008. When you were both six. You didn’t have the heart to tell her how he had been with you in the car.

“Sunghoon’s a bit shy, but once you get to know him, he’s a really good kid. Very passionate and hardworking. So is his sister Yeji, but she’s got different ambitions,” your grandmother muses.

“Oh yeah? What does she want to do?” you ask, genuinely interested, as you try to somehow fit another t-shirt into one of the drawers. You’d started out by folding them nicely but you’d soon given up and started stashing them into the corners.

“She wants to become a professional rider. Says she wants to become like me,” she explains with a small chuckle. “Well, she’s definitely got what it takes. I got her a spot in that bigger club in Perpignan I told you about, so she goes there after school twice a week, but she still trains here with me every weekend.”

“You give her lessons?” you ask, some surprise in your voice, which makes your grandmother laugh.

“What, you think I’m too old?” she jokes and you shake your head rapidly, but she doesn’t take any offense to it. “I can’t stand for hours and shout like I used to, but I can sit in the center of the riding hall and watch, then tell her what she needs to work on and what she’s doing well. She says it helps her, so I’m happy to do it,” she adds with a shrug. You nod as you open another drawer and decide this one will be for your underwear.

“What about Sunghoon?” You can’t help but ask, a bit curious about him. You doubted you could really chalk up his impoliteness to shyness, but you could still listen to what your grandmother had to say about him.

“He’s more like his dad, wants to take after the club. But he’s a very decent rider, too. If his sister hadn’t said she wanted to go pro so early on, I’m sure he would’ve. You know one thing that’s great about getting old?” she asks suddenly.

“No?”

“You observe people a lot more, and you understand them a lot more too. Well, now that I think about it, it might be just me,” she says, making you chuckle. “I don’t have a lot going on in my life, so I have more time to be nosy and see what others are up to. He’d never admit it, I don’t think, that he gave up on a potential riding career for his sister. He’s the type to make quiet sacrifices, and he loves his sister to death. He’d rather take over the club and watch her be happy than the opposite.”

You nod, an approving expression on your face. “Sounds like a good guy,” you say honestly, surprised that someone supposedly so kind could also be so rude.

“He is. Handsome, as well, by the way, as I’m sure you’ve noticed,” she adds, a knowing smile playing on her lips, but you just roll your eyes playfully.

“That’s what mom said,” you reply, not wanting to admit that they are both right on the matter of Sunghoon’s handsomeness.

Sunghoon’s the one who opens the door when you and your grandmother knock. His expression when he sees you is the same as earlier, but you don’t have the time to ponder over his behavior, because quickly enough, two figures appear behind him. He steps to the side, letting enough space for you to come in, his harsh gaze never once leaving your face. You turn your attention to the figures, namely his father and a young girl who you guess is Yeji, and, thank God, they’re looking at you with wide smiles.

“You must be Y/N!” his father beams, and you nod, returning his smile and saying hi. He kisses you on both cheeks, and this time you remember to start from the right. “Welcome. We’re very happy to have you here, aren’t we, Sunghoon?”

He seems oblivious to his son’s clear distaste of you as he loops an arm over his shoulders, happily shaking one of them under his grasp. “Right,” Sunghoon says, voice monotone. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you reply with a slightly confused tone - what the hell was his deal? Usually, whatever energy someone gave you, you’d give it back to them. You’d have no problem being as rude to Sunghoon as he was to you if only his family didn’t seem so nice.

“I’ll go help Mom in the kitchen,” he announces and walks away. His father turns back to you and gives you an apologetic smile.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just shy. He’ll warm up to you eventually.” You nod, saying it’s okay.

Yeji then takes a step towards you, introducing herself as she goes in for the usual two kisses on the cheeks. “Hi, I’m Yeji!”

“Hi, so nice to meet you!”

“Me too, I’m really happy you’re here! It’ll be nice being with another girl,” she says, gesturing towards her oblivious brother with a tilt of her head. It takes a lot more effort to be nice than to be rude, you think, side-eyeing Sunghoon in your head.

“Are there not a lot of girls that come here for lessons?” you ask as she leads you inside the house, showing you where to take off your shoes and jumper.

“There are, but they only come here once a week and stay for a few hours, so it’s not the same. I’m stuck with my anthropoid of a brother most of the time,” she says, lowering her voice to make sure only you can hear what she says. You both laugh at her diss; nothing like bonding over hating boys with another girl. You can already tell you’re going to like her.

You ask if there’s anything you can do to help, but the Parks tell you to not worry about anything and sit down. You and Yeji join your grandmother who’s already sitting at the dinner table, and the three of you chat, or rather, you and Yeji chat while your grandmother listens. Or maybe she isn’t listening, you’re not sure.

Yeji is in her first year of high school. The prestigious riding club she is being taught at doubles as a school, so that’s where she’s been studying for the past few years, and she boards there as well, coming home every weekend unless she’s got important competitions coming up, in which case she stays there for a few weeks. Competition season is about to start, so she’ll be spending most of her time there this summer.

“And do you like it there?”

She looks slightly taken aback by your question, as if she’s not quite used to being asked about that. “I mean, yeah, yeah, I do. It’s nice being able to ride so often, and not having the stress of needing to figure out what I want to do next. But it is… you know,” her voice gets quieter, “a lot of pressure sometimes.”

Sunghoon walks in then, plates and cutlery in hand, and starts setting the table. Yeji’s face lights up at her brother’s arrival, using it to change the topic. “Sunghoon is studying to become a vet. He’s finished his two years of preparatory classes, so now he’s going to a vet school in Toulouse.”

He glares at his sister, but she doesn’t pay him any mind. “He graduated top of his class, you know.”

“Why are you telling her about me?” he interrupts.

Yeji just shrugs. “I’m telling her about us.”

“Well,” he says, putting down a plate in front of you and a fork and knife on each side of the plate, “she doesn’t need to know about me.” You can’t see his face but the cold tone of his voice and his presence right behind you are enough to send shivers down your spine. What the hell is his deal?, you wonder.

You look at Yeji, a confused look on your face, and she rolls her eyes as a dismissal of her older brother’s behavior. “Don’t ask me, cause I don’t know what his problem is, either,” she says, and you can’t help but chuckle.

Mrs and Mr Park walk in then, bringing in the main dish of duck confit as well as roast potatoes, vegetables and some bread. Mrs Park gives you the biggest chunk of meat and a load of sides, saying you must be famished after such a long trip even though you tell her you’d brought things to snack on. She says she’d hesitated between cooking Korean food or a typical French Southwestern dish but had opted for the latter, wanting to welcome you properly in the region. You thanked her and told her it looked amazing.

When everyone is served, you wish each other ‘bon appétit’ and start eating. You’re chewing on your first mouthful of duck and potatoes when Mrs Park asks you what you study. “Your grandmother said you were a med student?” she asks with a smile. Everyone looks at you except for Sunghoon, who only has eyes for his food.

You nod, waiting to swallow before answering, and Mr Park tuts his wife for not letting you eat. “I am. I passed my second year,” you say, earning yourself some congratulations, “and I’m starting my residency in a hospital in Paris next semester.”

“Do you know what part of the hospital you’ll be in?” Mr Park asks.

“We get to do turns, so we can see what we like. We give our school our top five choices, and then they put us in three departments for three months each, and then choose our favorite one based on the offers we get for the summer. I’m in the children’s ward first, then cardiology, then reeducation. We’ll also get to watch over surgeries.”

He nods, humming at your words. “And is that what you want to do later? I mean, work in one of those departments?”

“I’ve got time to change my mind, so I guess it depends how much I like being at the hospital, but I think I’d rather have my own cabinet after some time. I feel like overtime, you build more of a relationship with people, and it’s a lot less stressful, too,” you add with a chuckle.

Mr Park smiles and nods again. “Ah, I see. That’s nice. And would that be in Paris?,” he asks, and this time, it’s his wife that tells him to leave you alone, but you say it’s okay.

“Probably. It’s the city I know best, but nothing is set in stone.”

“You should come here!” Mrs Park perks. “Most people who live here are quite old - no offense, Nadine - ” (“None taken,” your grandmother says with a smile), but we’ve only got two doctors, and one is probably retiring in the next six to ten years.”

“You tell me to leave her alone, and then you tell her to move here,” Mr Park mutters, earning himself a small slap on the arm. They start bickering, and your grandmother just sighs and shakes her head.

“Young love,” she says, making everyone laugh. Even Sunghoon cracks a smile, and you get a glimpse of his dimples. As soon as he catches your gaze, his smile drops, and you turn your eyes away, your cheeks heating up. Yeji starts a new topic and soon enough you’re all chatting again. If it wasn’t for Sunghoon making it very clear he didn’t want you here, you’d already feel at home, just sitting at this dinner table.

When dinner is over, you insist on clearing the table and doing the dishes, saying you felt bad not doing anything. “I need to earn my keep,” you tell Mrs Park with a smile.

She laughs and says, “Oh, no need to worry about that, with Sunghoon showing you the ropes the next few days, you definitely will.”

Sunghoon perks up at the mention of his name. “What’s this about?” he asks, that crease still in his eyebrows. You find yourself wanting to stroke them with your thumbs and brush that frown away, but you quickly snap out of it. He may have a pretty face, but from what you’ve seen, that’s about all there is.

Mrs Park lets out a small puff of air through her nose. “We’ve talked about this, dear. You’re showing Y/N around the club tomorrow and Monday. It’s so you know how everything works before summer lessons start,” she explains, turning towards you.

“Why does it have to be me, though?” Sunghoon almost whines, and you want to scoff at him.

“Because your father and I said so,” his mother says, ending the conversation there, and you’re reminded of your own parents.

Sunghoon looks at you and frowns, so you raise your eyebrows back at him. It wasn’t your fault you were here or that his parents had designated him to show you around, so there was no reason you should make yourself small or apologetic for him. He scoffs and looks away. “Just be outside by eight a.m. tomorrow morning, okay?”

He doesn’t let you answer, just gives you one last hard look and walks away.

“Why are you wearing a dress?” Sunghoon asks as soon as you step outside the next morning.

“Good morning to you too, Sunghoon,” you reply sarcastically. You roll your eyes when he doesn’t say anything, just stands there, arms crossed over his chest, so you add, “Because it’s going to be hot today. And because it’s pretty.”

“This is an equestrian center, not a fashion show. You won’t be comfortable. Go put on a t-shirt and some shorts or some leggings. And wear sneakers, not sandals, Christ.”

You scoff and mirror his posture. “You don’t get to tell me what to wear, you know.”

He lets out a dry chuckle and rolls his eyes, a disbelieving smile on his face. “This might be a holiday for you, because it’s sunny and there’s nature everywhere, but this is work we’re gonna be doing. So, for your own sake, wear the right kind of clothes. But if you want to get horse saliva on your dress or step in horse shit wearing those shoes, be my guest.”

You glare at him for a few seconds, realizing that he’s right, and huff out an annoyed “fine,” stomping back into your grandmother’s house. “Be quick!” he calls after you.

You come back out five minutes later, wearing a tank top you usually use for sleeping, a pair of denim shorts and old sneakers your mother had told you to pack. “Took you long enough,” Sunghoon says, a true ray of sunshine, but you decide it’s better to ignore him. He barely talked to you yesterday, but now that it’s just the two of you and he has to, his words are somehow more annoying than his silence.

You stare at him unfazed and ask, “So, what’s first?”

He raises his eyebrows, seemingly surprised, but answers anyway. “Right. Follow me.” He heads towards a part of the farm that is attached to the riding hall and that your grandmother had pointed out yesterday evening as the reception and office area.

Sunghoon fishes a keyholder out of his jean pocket and slides open the door using one of the many keys he has. He goes to stand in front of a postboard and points to it. “This has the daily and weekly schedule on it. It’s a routine, so things don’t change much, but when they do, we add a post-it to the board. For example, the blacksmith is coming next Thursday to check horseshoes. That’s a post-it. Today, we’re cleaning out all the stalls and adding fresh straw. We do that every Monday, so it’s on the schedule. No post-it.”

“Right. That makes sense,” you nod. “Is that all we do today?”

“We do rounds first, but basically, yeah, because cleaning takes a long time. And Monday is technically our day off. No one comes in for lessons so we use that free time to clean out the stalls.”

You nod and Sunghoon chuckles at you, but you don’t have time to question him about it because he’s already off and you have no choice but to follow him. He leads you to a part of the farm on the other side of the courtyard and pulls out another key, pushing the door open to a wide three-and-a-half-wall room with rings attached to the walls every few meters. Three and a half because behind that space on each side are stalls, as Sunghoon points out.

“This is the prep room, where we get the horses ready before a lesson.”

“What do you do to get them ready?” you ask, looking around the room.

“You clean their coat and their hooves, brush out any tangles in their manes and tails, then saddle and bridle them. The club saddlery is over there,” he says, pointing to a door on your right. “Horse owners have their own stuff in lockers in another room.”

Apparently, you’re not checking out the saddlery today, because Sunghoon is already walking over to the stalls.

“Hi everyone,” he greets softly. You follow him closely as he walks on one side of the stables, petting each horse as he walks past them or peering over the door to see how the sleeping ones are doing, and then does the same thing on the other side. He greets each horse by name, and even though it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he remembers each and every one of them, it still does. You tell him exactly that, and he chuckles.

“What would you think of a teacher that doesn’t know their students’ names? This is kind of the same,” he explains. He shows you the stacks of hay and straw at the end of the stables, and explains that they bring it here from the fields every once in a while because it’s more convenient, and that this is what you’ll be using later.

When he’s checked that everything is okay, he opens the door on the other side of the room leading outside. On your right stands a huge pile of manure, and you can’t help but make a stank face at the odor hitting you right in the nostrils. Sunghoon chuckles again (can he please stop chuckling at you for no reason?) and reassures you by saying they’re emptying it soon. “The farmers use it for their crops,” he explains.

On your left, there’s another barn that you guess hosts more horses. He gets out yet another key and pushes the door wide open. Light fills the barn instantly, making the dust particles in the air visible, and you hear a few grunts and huffs from the horses - of annoyance at Sunghoon waking them up or of happiness at seeing him, you’re not yet qualified enough to say.

There are two other smaller, one-sided stables next to the riding hall where he takes you and does his rounds again. When he’s all done, you follow him to the riding hall where he opens two doors on each side, that way you can walk through it to get to the pastures in the back rather than walk around the whole center, and takes down the electric cables that serve as an entrance to the pastures. He doesn’t explain any of this, however, so you sort of have to guess. Wordlessly, you head back to the last stables you were in and there, he throws a bunch of what you think are harnesses at you.

“What are these?” you ask dumbly, looking at the thing in your hand.

“They’re halters,” he says, and when you just stare wordlessly, he adds, talking as if it were obvious, “you put them around the horse’s head so you can take them places?”

“Right. Can you show me how to put one on?”

He sighs but obliges; he doesn’t have much of a choice anyway. Not your fault that he’s lived here all his life whereas you’ve encountered a horse maybe three times in your twenty years of life.

He demonstrates how to put a halter on and watches over you as you practice it on an old and tired-looking white horse. When you manage to do it somehow quickly, he says, “there you go,” and you’re surprised to not hear any sarcasm in his voice. However, when he pats the horse’s forehead, you have a feeling the praise was more directed towards her than you.

You walk side-by-side to the pastures, you with the white horse, whose garrot reaches your shoulder, and Sunghoon leading a small pony in each hand. They have to walk quickly to keep up with his strides and you can’t help but laugh at their cute swaying hips.

“How old is she?” you ask Sunghoon, head tilting towards the horse you’re walking with.

A soft smile cracks on Sunghoon’s lips, perhaps the first smile you’ve seen on him today. “That’s Nellie,” he answers quietly, looking at the horse in question. “She’s turning 20 this December. We were only born a few days apart.”

“Wow, so you grew up together, that’s pretty cool,” you say honestly, and Sunghoon’s eyes settle on you for a few seconds, eyebrows raising a bit as if surprised by your words.

“Yeah, it is,” he says, looking back in front of him. “My parents taught me how to horse ride with her. And she’s the only horse that belongs to the club whose papers actually state that I’m her owner. All the others have my parents’ name or the club’s on theirs.”

“Ah, so she’s your horse,” you say, looking at Nellie and smiling. You’d have imagined a much taller, handsome and dark-haired horse for him, but this somehow matches as well. It makes Sunghoon appear sweeter, for some reason.

“Yeah,” he says simply, but you don’t miss the small smile on his lips. So maybe there is a way to get to know Park Sunghoon, you think.

Once in the pastures, he shows you how to release a horse safely in case they get excited about being outside and hurt you accidentally or run away. Thankfully, these horses know better than to do that sort of stuff, so it’s very unlikely that anything will happen, he explains, but you’re always better safe than sorry. You head back to the stables in a silence a bit less awkward than before and do the same things with the three other horses in those stables. Not much is said, but you don’t want to force the conversation. He just explains to you that these few horses work well together in the pastures, but that it’s not always this easy.

“Horses have a herd instinct, so they need to be with each other, but also not with anyone. You know how wolf packs have alphas and betas and stuff?” he asks, and you nod. Your friends and you had an obsessive Teen Wolf phase when you were in middle school. “Well, horses kind of have that too, because there’s a hierarchy in their herds. So there’s usually one leader, a mare, and some others that just get along.”

“How do you know which horses get along, though?”

“You just have to observe. You can tell pretty quickly which horses are going to have a leader or a follower type personality. Just put two leaders together, and they’ll clash instantly. It can get pretty bad pretty quick, so the first few times you put certain horses together outside, you really have to watch over them and be careful.”

“That’s so interesting,” you say after a few moments. “I never knew horses to have such complex relationships,” you say, and he smiles.

“Horses are really cool,” he says, and immediately grunts. “That was such a loser thing to say.”

You can’t help but laugh at his self-realization, but quickly reassure him. “No, it’s not. It’s something you’re passionate about, of course you’re gonna find them cool,” you say, and the smile he gives you as an answer shouldn’t make your heart beat that much faster, but it does, and you don’t know how to feel about that. You’re just glad he’s being nice to you - bare minimum, but still, a small victory.

“Time for the hard part, now,” he says when all five horses are happy in the pasture. You follow him to a toolshed where they keep tools, of course, but also two empty wheelbarrows and snacks for the horses like grains, carrots and salt blocks. He tells you to grab a shovel as he rolls out a wheelbarrow and you head back to the stalls together.

There’s nothing complex about shoveling dirty hay and horse shit into a wheelbarrow, but by God is it a draining task. The shovel itself is heavy, so having to pick all that stuff up, heave it back into the cart, and then repeat for who knows how many times is a real burden on your poor back and arms. You definitely let Sunghoon know how hard this is for you, what with all the sighs and loud breaths and grunts you’re letting out. You’ve barely finished cleaning one stall out when Sunghoon is starting his third, and you can tell he’s not happy about it.

“If you complained less, you’d work faster, you know,” he says, that scowl back on his face.

“I can’t help that I’ve never done anything like this in my life,” you chide back, out-of-breath and wiping some sweat from your forehead.

“Yeah? All the hard tasks usually done for you, princess?”

His scowl turns into a small smirk as he looks at you, and you curse your heart for doing a flip when he chuckles at your dumbfoundedness. It’s just a stupid nickname, you tell yourself, no need to get so worked up over it.

“I’ve never had any hard tasks like this in the first place,” you say, moving on to the second stall. “My body isn’t made for it.”

“Well, it’ll have to get used to it.” Yesterday, his mother had also told you you’d get used to it, as a way of reassuring you; but Sunghoon’s words are a far cry from his mother’s, and are more of a threat than anything.

Another few minutes and you’re done, Sunghoon watching you as you finish cleaning your designated stall. You dump everything at the manure pile, then head to the straw pile and fill the wheelbarrow to replace the dirty straw with fresh one in the stalls. And then, you only have to do that four more times. Easy enough, right?

No. Not easy.

The only semi-easy part is taking the horses out of their stalls and tying the rope that are attached to their halter to a ring in the prep room, except some horses are less compliant than others and you end up having to call Sunghoon a couple times so he can take care of them for you.

The whole time you’re heaving manure into the wheelbarrow, you’re complaining. At first, it was the stank that had really gotten to you - as one can imagine, hay infused with horse piss and shit doesn’t smell like fresh linen. But somehow, you got used to it - maybe the physical exertion forced you to forget about the smell and focus on the pain taking over your whole body.

You huff and puff as you feel the heavy weight of the shovel in your arms and shoulders every time you need to lift it up and bring it back down. The pain in your upper back from years of carrying your backpack on one shoulder makes itself known, and after half an hour you’re whining that you can feel muscle scores coming in your whole body.

“They’ll probably stay for a whole week too,” you mumble to yourself, but still loud enough for Sunghoon to hear.

“You’ll get used to it, I told you. In a few weeks this will feel like nothing.” When you only grunt in response, he adds: “I usually do this on my own, you know. You’re lucky you’re only doing half of the work. Or more like one fourth, with the speed you’re going at.”

“Why don’t your parents or sister help you out?” you ask as you lean against the stall wall, using the distraction of a conversation to take a break.

“My parents already work all week when I’m not there, giving lessons and taking care of the club, so it’s the least I can do to help out on weekends and during my breaks. And my sister already works hard enough at her school so I want her to relax when she’s here,” he replies, never stopping his shoveling.

“But you work hard too, don’t you? I mean, your sister said you were top of your class. You should get a break too.”

His movements halt for a split second only. If your words have any sort of impact on Sunghoon, he doesn’t want to let you know.

“I just study hunched over my desk all week. It’s nice to do something physical, and I don’t mind the time alone.” You’re not sure whether this is an excuse he’s come up with for himself or if he’s telling the truth, but his tone is so final and you understand that he’s done with the conversation, so you pick up your shovel and get back to work. You don’t complain for the rest of the morning.

When you’re finally done with the stalls, you bring back the horses you had walked to the pastures so that others can enjoy the free space and green grass. That’s when you run into an obstacle.

No matter how much you pull, coax, or stare impatiently, this horse won’t budge. Sunghoon rests his back and one foot against the plastic half-wall of the riding hall, chuckling at how awfully you and Dona are getting on. He’s already brought back the other five horses to their stalls and has nothing better to do than be useless, apparently.

After a few minutes of you trying to negotiate with Dona, to no avail, Sunghoon finally speaks up, just loud enough for you to hear. “Stop staring at her. Horses get nervous when you stare too much.”

You scoff. “But she won’t move! I’m trying to show her the desperation in my eyes!” you shout back, and turn to the horse who only peers at you with empty black eyes.

“Don’t shout. Horses don’t like it when you shout,” Sunghoon simply answers, propping himself off of the wall and taking his sweet time walking towards you. When he reaches you and Dona, he takes the tether from your hands and says, “C’mon, Dona,” without even looking at the horse, who immediately follows, no questions asked.

You stand there dumbfounded and mouth O-shaped as you watch the two of them stride away calmly, running after Sunghoon when your shock dissipates. “Don’t run,” he says when he hears your quickly approaching footsteps, “horses don’t like it when you run.”

“My God,” you say, already out of breath, “how many things do horses not like?”

“Quite a few,” he answers matter-of-factly, although you meant your question more rhetorically than anything.

“How did you do that, anyways?” you ask when your breathing returns to normal.

“Well, mainly, it’s just because she knows me and knows to listen to me,” he explains, turning his head just a bit to look at you as you walk back to the main stables, the sun making itself shy behind the tall trees even though it’s nearing midday. A warm breeze blows, sweeping your ponytail to the side and rustling the leaves on the trees. “But also, horses need to be told what to do, not asked. Your attitude needs to be, ‘we’re going back now,’ not, ‘hey, wanna go back?’” You nod slowly at first, then faster when the words start making sense in your head. Sunghoon wants to make fun of you but finds it sweet that you’re at least trying to understand.

“Right,” you say after a few moments. “It’s not very nice, though,” you add, causing Sunghoon to tilt his head and frown his brows, silently asking you to go on. “Well, I’m sure Dona would like a say in the matter.”

He once again contains his laughter because you look so serious and he doesn’t want to make you feel bad, but ultimately fails and snorts at your comment, making you look up at him, bewilderment written all over your face. “What? I’m being serious!”

“I know you are,” he chuckles, “but don’t worry, Dona doesn’t mind having to go home. And if it was up to her, she’d stay out all night.”

Sunghoon tells you some anecdotes about the club and its occupiers on your way back, making you giggle at some of the mischievous things the horses have gotten up to. He’s more talkative than this morning which takes you slightly aback, but you’re not going to complain about the change. You were dreading having to spend your summer annoyed at a cute boy you’d have to see every day, so you’re glad his first impression is drastically different from what he’s actually like.

You and Sunghoon part ways a bit before noon, and you plop down on the couch as soon as you get to your grandmother’s house. “Tough morning, huh?,” she calls from the kitchen. You only have enough energy left to hum a small “yes” back. She chuckles at you, then tells you to take a shower before having lunch. You spend the rest of your day sunbathing on a deckchair in the backyard, taking some time to relax before what you’re sure will be a tiring week.

One thing you learn during that week and the weeks after that is that Sunghoon has his fair share of fangirls. As a female-dominated hobby, most of the club members are teenage girls who love horses and cute boys.

Tuesday morning before lessons start, he shows you basic things like how to properly groom a horse and how to put their saddles and bridles (which is actually a lot harder than it looks - putting your thumb in a horse’s mouth seems a bit counterintuitive), just in case you ever need to get a horse ready for whatever reason. You’re going to be here for two months, so might as well learn things like these.

While you help him walk some horses to the pastures, he explains that summer lessons are different in that instead of learners coming once or twice a week, they come all day from Tuesday to Friday and then pass an exam on Saturday morning if they want to. Since both his mother and father teach, they’re able to have two separate groups, one for riders who come for more laidback lessons with games and walks in the fields nearby, and one for those who want to improve their skills in an intense week of both practical and theoretical lessons.

There isn’t much you can do on your own, so after you’ve gone around the stables giving grains to the horses that need them, you join Sunghoon outside in the courtyard as he cleans and greases some saddles and bridles that are starting to wear out. It’s fairly easy to do and he lets you help out, so you sit outside together in silence, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your face. That is, until you start noticing the girls.

You don’t want to pay them any attention, but what with the way they wave shyly at Sunghoon and giggle when he waves back, a smile you can’t describe as anything but dazzling adorning his lips, it’s impossible not to. Some of them even call out his name, saying “hi” in the sweetest way they can. You don’t blame them: had you been fifteen and seen a boy as pretty as Sunghoon, you probably would’ve acted similarly, especially if you got to see him on a regular basis.

What gets on your nerves, however, is how much Sunghoon enjoys it: you can tell by the smirk that won’t leave his face the whole time or the way he makes them all swoon by remembering their names. Bare minimum, you think to yourself once again, but you don’t say anything. Even if slightly infuriating, it’s also entertaining, seeing Sunghoon enjoy himself this way. You would’ve thought he was the type to want to be by himself at all times, unbothered by anyone, yet here he was, blushing at all the attention he was receiving.

After a girl who had come up to him (sparing you a confused “hi” when she saw your unfamiliar face but quickly turning her attention back to Sunghoon), wanting to know how his year at school had gone, skips giddily away, you can’t help but tease him.

“I can’t believe you’re liking this so much,” you say with a smile, keeping your attention on greasing the leather parts of the bridle.

Sunghoon looks up at you, a semi-offended look on his face. “I’m just being nice.”

“I didn’t know ‘just being nice’ entailed letting yourself be showered in compliments and winking at fifteen year-old girls. Aren’t you turning twenty?”

“I’m not- I didn’t- Whatever,” he gives up, a pout on his face as he returns to work. You nudge his shoulder, making him crack a smile, and you feel like you won the Grand Prix of something.

Another thing you learn that week is that there’s a lot of going back and forth with Sunghoon. One minute he’s laughing at your jokes and acting like a normal human being, and the other he’s giving you the cold shoulder as if he suddenly doesn’t want you around anymore. Sometimes, these changes in his attitude are so quick, they give you whiplash.

You learn to not pay too much attention to these mood swings, not wanting to create any problems for yourself. He seems to be happy when you ask him about horses, so you often come up with the most random things you can think to ask, and he always patiently answers even the dumbest of questions. However, his patience is much quicker to run out when you complain about any task you’re given, so you settle on glaring at the back of his head.

Thankfully, you’re actually a lot less busy than you thought you would be. Your tasks consist mainly of cleaning the stalls, feeding the horses, and taking care of the ones who are too old or have some kind of illness and can’t be mounted. You bring them to the pastures, where they spend a lot of their time, then brush out the dirt and dust embedded in their fur after rolling around on the ground. These horses are often the most affectionate, gently nuzzling your hands when you try to clean their face and huffing happily when they see you arrive.

You do this a couple times a week and Sunghoon often joins you, bringing Nellie out and attaching the rope of her halter next to the horse you’re taking care of so he can groom her as well. These are the moments when he’s in his best mood and he lets you blabber away, talking about random things and concerns in your life as he listens and nods, sometimes sharing some of his as well, letting you take a peek into his closed-off world. You find that you have actually quite a lot in common, with you being in med school and him in vet school, which are both intense and high-pressure. Yet, there’s always something that’s quite surface-level about these conversations; students will always easily bond about the stress of deadlines and horrible professors. You want to dig deeper, but something tells you that Sunghoon will quickly shut you down, and you’re okay with waiting for a bit. You’re just glad he hasn’t been the way he was with you that first day the whole time and that he’s actually talking to you and even sending a smile your way once every now and then.

You also hang out with Yeji quite a lot. Even though she’s on her summer break, competition season means she spends four days a week at her boarding school to train and the other three days at the club, trying to enjoy her summer like any other normal high schooler as best as she can. She doesn’t say much more on how she feels about training so much, only slightly hinting at her level of stress and fatigue like she had done at the dinner table, and you can tell it’s a touchy subject, so you don’t pry.

It does take your body a few days to get used to being outside in the sun and walking around all day, so your first week at the club, you head home as soon as you’re done with your tasks and take a shower then help your grandmother with dinner, spending your evenings reading or playing Scrabble with her (she’s an impressive player, by the way, and has taught you many words). Every Sunday night, you have dinner with the Parks, although Mrs Park also sometimes urges you into her house at one p.m. with the promise of delicious food.

On your second Wednesday there, however, you feel like going out in the evening. After a really hot week, it had stormed during the night that made Tuesday turn into Wednesday which had made the air feel less heavy and more refreshing, so doing anything was a lot less energy-consuming than it had been before. It’s nine p.m. and the sun is low in the sky when you tell your grandmother you’re going to explore the property some more. You know there’s a path that goes behind the pastures to a forest and that is used for horse rides and walks, so you make your way there and follow it.

The mud is still a bit soft from all the rain of the night and morning and you can tell apart footsteps as well as hoof and dog paw prints. The trees on each side on the path are so full of leaves that they make a sort of arch overhead, barring any of the remaining sunlight from entering and casting a shadow all over, and you wish you’d have brought a thin jumper with you. It feels nice to be outside when the sun isn’t making you feel like your skin will melt right off of your body, though.

You’ve been walking for about fifteen minutes, stopping here and there to look at a flower or snap a shot of the clouds you can see through the trees when you reach a clearing. It’s completely empty, the trees making way for a vast patch of just grass and small daisies, so of course you see him immediately.

A couple hundred meters away from where you’re standing is Sunghoon on a tall, ginger horse, galloping in circles. You don’t know much about horse riding, but you can tell that he knows what he's doing from the way he holds himself and directs the horse. His back is straight and his legs are pressed against the horse’s flanks, his hips moving in perfect synchronization with the horse’s strides so that he stays seated on its back rather than bounces like you’ve seen many less advanced riders do. The horse’s neck rounds and its head stays down, making its steps light and refined, and Sunghoon holds the reins long and low on each side of the horse’s garrot so he can gallop in a continuous circle.

The sight is breathtaking.

You’d always thought that horses had a certain grace to them, especially such tall and slim horses like the one right in front of you, and Sunghoon, with his perfect stance and control, somehow brought even more of that grace out. It was clear that it took a lot of work and talent to reach such elegance.

Although he seemed highly concentrated on what he was doing, Sunghoon noticed you after a minute of you standing there, all but gawking at him. You see him chuckle as he subtly changes his position on the horse and slows to a trot, heading towards you.

“Hey,” he calls out when you’re within hearing distance of each other. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just… taking a walk,” you say, pointing to the path behind you with your thumb but your gaze not leaving Sunghoon, still wearing an expression of astonishment on your face. “Sunghoon, that was- I mean, just, unlike anything I’ve ever seen. You looked amazing,” you say, unable to keep your honesty at bay. If the girls from the club had seen him ride like this, then you were definitely starting to understand why they were so smitten over him - you felt almost starstruck.

He chuckles again and looks down bashfully, hoping the dim light hides his growing blush from you. “Thanks. I wasn’t really doing anything special.”

“Not anything special, are you kidding? I’m serious, that was awesome. It was like- like a figure skater gliding, or like a ballet dancer doing turns or something,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief.

Your grin gets even wider when he lets out a giggle at your words, immediately covering his mouth with his palm when he hears the sound he’s made. He really does have a thing for being paid attention to and praised, you note.

“So you were just on a walk?” he asks awkwardly as a way of changing the subject, scratching the back of his head.

“I needed some fresh air, I guess. Plus, I’ve only been staying in the club, so I thought I’d take a walk around.”

“I can show you around when I’ve got time this week, if you want.” His offer seems to come as a surprise to the both of you, but you nod anyway, grateful for the extended hand.

“That’d be nice,” you say. You’re not sure what’s happening when you two stay there for a few seconds, just smiling shyly at each other, but you don’t hate it.

“Have you ever been on a horse?” he asks, breaking the silence first.

“Well, just a couple times, but it wasn’t lessons or anything, so I don’t know if it counts- wait, wait, what are you doing?”

A sudden mischievous smile has made its way to Sunghoon’s features as he dismounts, bringing the horse next to you. “Wanna try, then?”

“No,” you say with a pointed look. “No way. That horse is taller than me, Sunghoon, I’m not getting on him.”

“Oh c’mon, I promise you it’s not scary, and I’ll be holding onto the reins the whole time. We can just walk back to the club like this.” His eyes are working hard to convince you, and his small pout makes what little resolve you had crumble.

“Fine. But you better not let go of that horse.”

“I won’t,” he says, and something about his tone makes your qualms dissipate.

You walk over to where he’s standing on the left hand side of the horse and hook your left foot in the stirrup. Sunghoon instructs you to place your hands on each end of the saddle and hoist yourself up. It requires a lot more arm strength than you’d have imagined after seeing so many riders do it effortlessly, but Sunghoon is there to help you up as soon as he sees you struggling, two strong hands coming up to hold you at the waist and lift you onto the horse. You tell yourself it’s the physical exertion and not his touch that renders you breathless.

“Wow,” you say when you look around you, almost two meters above ground.

“Pretty cool, isn’t it?”

A small giggle escapes your lips. “Yeah. Pretty cool.”

“How does it feel? Are you sitting okay? Here, I’ll change the stirrup length so they fit you. Or we can just cross them over the saddle, since you won’t really need them, anyway.”

“No, I’d rather wear them, please,” you say, and your slight anxious tone makes Sunghoon chuckle.

When he’s done adjusting the stirrups for you and made sure you’re comfortable, he shows you how to hold the reins properly and tells you how to get the horse to start walking. “We usually teach beginners that you knock your heels against their flanks, but because Flame has only been mounted by more advanced riders, he might not like that. Don’t panic,” he reassures as soon as he sees your eyes go wide, “just press your calves against him instead of using your heels. Here, see? I’m holding him by the front of the reins, so he won’t run off.”

“Right, right,” you breathe out. Sunghoon’s right there, so there’s no reason to stress about this.

“Good. Just a small pressure from your calves, and we’re good to go.”

Flame is very reactive, already started walking when you’ve barely squeezed your legs against him. With Sunghoon practically directing the horse for you, you realize there’s nothing for you to do but enjoy the ride.

“This feels nice,” you say as you try to get used to Flame’s quick but steady rhythm. Sunghoon’s smile is better than any other spoken answer he could’ve given you. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, you decide to speak up.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” Sunghoon replies, looking up at you.

“Why were you so mean to me the first night I got here?”

He seems slightly taken aback by your question, but you get a glimpse of a guilty expression before he looks back down. “Right, sorry about that. I’ve kind of been feeling bad about it all week, but I was scared to bring it up.”

“It’s okay, I’m just curious about the sudden change is all,” you say.

“I just-” he starts, but then seems to think for a bit. “I’m not the best with strangers, for one. Plus, you were going to stay for the whole summer. I’ve built a routine for myself every summer here, and I don’t like it when something, or someone, disturbs my peace. Also, no offense, but I’m not a huge fan of you city folk. So many people at school have this weird prejudice against me for being from the middle of nowhere, so I’ve kind of got a low tolerance for them. So before I even met you, I didn’t really like you. Sorry, that’s harsh.”

You tell him not to worry about it. His words make you understand him a bit more, and you’re glad it doesn’t seem to be anything too personal against you. You tell him to go on and he sighs. “And you know, I talked with my parents and they told me it’ll be nice to have someone else around to help, and that your grandmother always talks highly of you, and that it was stupid to have decided in advance I wouldn’t like you, and I sort of agreed, but I couldn’t bring myself to be okay with it all. It’s like, we’ve been fine all this time, so why bring in someone new? My parents told me that technically this whole property belongs to your grandmother, and that she could bring anyone she wanted, and I couldn’t really say anything against that. But anyway, I told myself that if I just was cold and pretended you weren’t here, that it’d be fine. But then I- I saw you, and…” his words trail off here and he looks down as if embarrassed to say what comes next.

“And?” you pry, too curious not to.

You really have to focus to hear his words because of how low he mumbles them. “And you were really pretty…”

This confession that seemingly comes out of the blue makes your heart swell with satisfaction and you can’t help but tease him about it. “What was that? I didn’t hear you clearly.”

“Oh c’mon, you heard me. Don’t make me say it again.”

“I want you to say it again, though.”

He sighs and gives in. “Fine. I said you were pretty.”

You laugh, way happier than you should be at his words, and he whines at you to not make fun of him. “So you were mean to me because I was pretty? Doesn’t make much sense,” you taunt.

He sighs again, shaking his head a bit as if in disbelief he’s actually talking about this. “It’s just that… I wanted to be nice, I promise you I did, but I just… I’m not even sure myself. I think it just pissed me off even more, because it wasn’t like having to ignore some rando, it was having to ignore a really pretty girl, which obviously I don’t really want to do,” he says, and you laugh again. “But then you ended up being really nice as well and even funny, and I felt like an asshole for being mean. Which I should never have been in the first place, I know. I’m just… bad with strangers, like I said. Not used to them. It’s not an excuse for my behavior, though, so I’m sorry.”

You look at him with a smile and thank him for apologizing. Sadly, it’s a lot more than most nineteen-year-old boys would do, so you appreciate it. You spend the rest of the ride teasing him about how he thinks you’re pretty and how he was really acting like a tsundere, earning a few embarrassed chuckles from him. Something about getting him flustered just gets you going: his shy smile that reveals a pair of dimples and another of fangs, the blush creeping on his cheeks as he looks down at his feet. Too adorable.

When you reach the entrance to the club, he helps you get off the horse, holding you when your knees almost buckle at the impact of your feet against the ground. For some reason, you weren’t expecting to be so high up, even though you had been on a nearly two-meter horse for the past fifteen minutes.

“You know, I could teach you how to mount, if you’re interested,” he says as you brush some horse hair from your leggings.

That’s the second offer Sunghoon makes you tonight; he’s really showing you his nice side now, you realize with a flip of your stomach. You could just say yes, that sounds fun, but instead, you decide to annoy him some more. “Didn’t know I was so pretty that the Park Sunghoon would offer to give me lessons!”

He rolls his eyes playfully and starts to walk away with Flame. “Forget it then.”

You giggle as you catch up to him and nudge his shoulder with yours. “I’d love to.”

From that day on, it’s a lot easier to be around Sunghoon. He still doesn’t let you complain, and you can tell the walls he’s built around himself have only shrunk by a few bricks, but at least his attitude doesn’t flip around anymore. He reveals a side of himself that’s goofier than you’d have imagined, cracking random dad jokes and making side comments that never fail to make you laugh. He’s also quite sensitive to your teasing, always looking away with a blush, mumbling a small whatever at your words, but his shy smile lets you know that he doesn’t actually mind it.

The riding lessons usually happen in between work breaks or at the end of the day, and after a few of them, you know how to get a horse to start, turn, and stop, and you don’t like a complete fool when the horse’s pace goes up to a trot, having mastered the art of sitting and standing at the right time. Sunghoon had shown you a few horses you could practice on and you’d gone for a piebald horse named Picasso whose garrot reached your chin, because the agglomeration of white hairs at the top of his otherwise black head formed a small heart.

Although you’d noticed from the get-go that Sunghoon was nothing less than gorgeous, it hadn’t hit you in the face until now that you could call him a friend, and every time he smiled or that the light hit his eyes a certain way, your heart skipped a few beats. At first, you told yourself that that was it - you found him pretty. That didn’t mean much more than you being able to recognise beauty, and it certainly didn’t mean you actually liked him as anything else than a friend.

That was until this one day, when he was giving you a lesson after everyone had left the club. In the south of France where temperatures often rise to the high thirties in the summer, heavy storms are bound to break out. This was one of those days - it had been raining the entire day, but it had calmed out a bit at the end of the afternoon which was why you had gone ahead with the lesson. However, twenty minutes into it, the rain got heavier again and thunder suddenly rang, loud and resonating in the emptiness of the fields. Horses are generally skittish creatures, and Picasso was no exception, the sound frightening him so much that he took off in a rapid gallop. In less than a fortnight of lessons you hadn’t developed the strong legs and quick reflexes of an advanced rider, and you were unable to keep up with him, falling off of him with a yelp, everything happening in the fraction of a second.

You fell right on your butt, the pain shooting off from there and spreading to your whole body and taking away your breath for three long seconds. You had barely the time to register what had happened that Sunghoon was already next to you, frantically asking if you were okay and telling you to stay still. He pulled his phone out and called Yeji, telling her to come to the riding hall quickly.

From your peripheral vision you could see Picasso pacing back and forth at the other side of the hall, as if to calm himself down. Sunghoon held you up with one firm hand planted on your back, his other hand resting on your arm as his thumb brushed your skin comfortingly. He helped you regain a normal heart rate by making you mirror his long and controlled breaths, worried eyes never once leaving your face.

Yeji got to the riding hall in no time and immediately spotted you sitting on the floor and Sunghoon crouching over you, but her brother asked her to please take Picasso back to his stall before she could walk over to the two of you. She nevertheless asked if you were okay and you nodded, trying to give her a faint smile that reassured both her and Sunghoon.

“You feeling better?” Sunghoon asked when your tears had finally stopped falling, wiping away the ones that had rained down your cheeks and reached your jawline.

You nodded, taking a deep breath through your nose that turned out to be useless when you opened your eyes and realized how close Sunghoon was, face merely inches away from yours and arms wrapped around you, taking your breath away more than the pain had. “Y-yeah, I’m fine, more shocked than anything.”

He let out a chuckle of relief and brushed the hair away from your face, fully putting your heart and lungs out of order. “I’m glad. Falls always happen when you first start out riding, but they’re still really scary. I was worried you got badly hurt for a second there,” he says simply, and before you can even process his words, he asks, “Are you feeling ready to get up?”

You can only nod, looking up at Sunghoon like he saved you from a near-death experience as he helps you up. If he notices your gawking, he doesn’t say anything, and you’re thankful for it. In your three weeks of knowing each other, you’ve been the one to tease Sunghoon and make him unable to say anything. Even just in general, you’re used to being the flirt that makes boys blush - very rarely were they able to do the same to you, even though they all tried their hardest. Yet Sunghoon, without even realizing it or doing it on purpose, had just made your heart flutter and your brain draw a blank. You wished you could blame it on the shock you just had and the pain still making your legs weak, but you’re reminded of all the times a simple smile or passing touch had put you in the same state, and you know you’d be a fool to continue on ignoring them.

It takes you literally falling flat on your ass to realize you have feelings for Park Sunghoon.

Unsure what to do with this newfound information, you decide to keep things between you and Sunghoon as they were. You’ll be leaving at the end of August anyway, no need to make things awkward for the remainder of your stay. Although some moments make you wonder if he might feel some kind of way for you too, you try not to think too much of them and enjoy your friendship as is.

When you’ve reached a level where you being on a horse isn’t a danger to yourself or those around you, Sunghoon keeps his promise of showing you more of the premises and you go on horse rides together, allowing you to discover random creeks and benches that were placed in the middle of nowhere. You go on these a few times a week when you’re all done with your tasks of the day and the raging heat of the sun has somewhat calmed, and to your surprise, you actually really enjoy being out in nature, even though bugs are still a very much unwelcome part of it.

One day he mentions vet school and you’re reminded of your grandmother’s words on your first night here about how it wasn’t particularly what he wanted to do, so you ask him about it. He turns to you with a stunned look on his face. “I didn’t know she knew about that.”

“She told me she noticed a lot of things like that.”

He turns his head again and gazes up at the sky. “Well, she’s not wrong. It’s my parents that wanted me to go to vet school. I’d be happy just taking care of the club and making a living that way, but they say they don’t need my help year round and that it’s better for me to take up a better job.”

“For someone who doesn’t want to do it, it’s very impressive that you’re top of your class.”

He chuckles shyly and a blush appears on his cheeks. “Did Yeji say that? I only got the top grade for a couple of subjects, not all of them,” he says, making you scoff as if to say ‘still, very impressive.’ “And you know, I still like it and find it interesting, and if I’m doing it, might as well give it my best and make my parents proud.”

“Yeah, I get that. My parents are both doctors so there was never any doubt in either their or my mind that I’d become one too, until I started my first year and realized that maybe I could’ve done something else.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

You turn your head to look at him and he mirrors you. “Cause if I’m doing it, might as well give it my best and make my parents proud.”

You both look away with a chuckle. “Guess we’re more similar than I thought we were,” he says, taking you aback, but you’re very glad he thinks that way. You turn to your side, leaning against your elbow as you peer down at him.

“What about a riding career? Had you ever thought about that?”

“God, yeah,” he answers without any hesitation. “My parents signed me up for a few competitions when I was younger, and I won a couple. It made them happy, so I was happy, but I also actually really liked it. My parents never really asked how seriously I wanted to take it, though, and I didn’t say anything, so when Yeji started showing a lot of interest in competitions and becoming a professional rider they focused their attention on her and assumed I didn’t really mind, I guess. I never tried to prove them wrong. As I said, I’d be fine just taking care of the club.” He sighs and pauses for a second. “She was really young when she said she wanted to have a horse riding career, and my parents just ran with it. Now that she’s older and it takes up basically ninety percent of her life, I can tell it’s a lot of pressure on her. But it’s too late to switch places and she’s the same as me, doesn’t want to let down our parents. I just hope she won’t push herself too much, you know.”

You nod, listening intently to his words. “I’m sure you’ll be there to watch over her if she ever does. You seem like a good older brother.”

He smiles and looks up at you. “I try to be.” He reaches a hand up to your face and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. The sudden, unfamiliar and intimate gesture takes you by surprise and as soon as he registers your wide eyes and agape lips he retracts his hand, apologizing. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to be weird, I just- I don’t- I’m sorry,” he stammers, looking away with a blush.

You don’t say anything for a few seconds, too stunned by what just happened, and he looks back at you, calling out your name in a small voice. His worried expression immediately crumbles when you start laughing. “It’s fine,” you say between giggles. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

He breathes out a sigh of relief and smiles again. “Sorry, I just did it without thinking. My friends and family are always super touchy so I’m just used to that sort of thing.”

“I’m the opposite,” you say, and Sunghoon raises his eyebrows. “My parents aren’t very affectionate. I mean, they tell me they’re proud of me, and buy me gifts and stuff like that, but we never hug, or say we love each other. You’ve seen my grandma, right? The only time she’s hugged me in the almost three weeks I’ve been here was the very first day, and that’s because we hadn’t seen each other in six months.”

Sunghoon nods and hums at your words. “Yeah, now that you say that, your grandma isn’t the type to hug, or, I don’t know, pet your hair or anything, even though I’ve known her basically my whole life. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he says, and you shake your head.

“No, don’t worry, you didn’t. It was actually… kinda nice,” you admit, looking away from him quickly.

“Really?” he asks with one of the widest grins you’ve ever seen on him, and you can’t believe this is the same boy that glared at you as he opened the door just a few weeks ago. You look at him from the corner of your eyes for a few seconds, trying to hide your smile, but give in and nod.

He opens his arms wide and says, “Come here,” and you look at him in disbelief.

“As in…” you say, pointing with your index finger to his chest, and he nods, blinking slowly. You scoff but do it anyway, resting your head on his chest, and a weird but warm bubble envelops your insides as he circles your waist with an arm and caresses your hair with his other hand.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, sending shivers down your spine.

“Yeah,” you whisper back. “This is okay.”

One Friday morning when he’s grooming Nellie and you’re braiding Picasso’s mane, he tells you he’s driving to the city tonight to meet up with his friends. “We’re just going to McDonald’s and then the cinema… and they’re kinda losers, you know, but it’d be fun if you came too. If you want to, I mean,” he offers, his shyness preventing him from looking you in the eyes. When you say you’d love to, his whole face lights up.

The day passes and when the clock strikes six p.m., you walk out of your grandmother’s house and find Sunghoon who’s waiting for you, back resting against his parents’ car. Hands in his pockets and sunglasses on, you can tell he’s trying to look cool and it makes him all that much more endearing to you. He fixes his posture and takes his sunglasses off when he sees you approaching, as if trying to get a better look; he’s seen you wear cuter outfits than tank tops and denim shorts for the dinners with his family but you’ve never worn such a pretty dress, and his heart speeds up at the mere sight of you.

“Like what you see?,” you say when you’re closer to him, twirling around in your dress.

“You look beautiful,” he says, and the look on his face must not be far from the one you wore when you saw him with Flame in that clearing a couple weeks ago.

His honesty makes you a bit shy, and you thank him as you ruffle his hair on your way to the passenger seat of the car. He stands there dumbfounded for a second until you call out his name, getting him back down to reality.

On your way to Perpignan, he tells you about his friends Heeseung, Jay and Jake, and how they all met two years ago. He shared a dorm with Jay and Jake in their first year of preparatory classes, and Heeseung, in the year above, was assigned as his mentor. They all clicked instantly and have been practically inseparable ever since, although they all live quite far away from each other, which is why it’s easiest to meet up in Perpignan when they’re on break from their studies.

“Heeseung’s girlfriend will also be there. Her name is Yunjin, she’s really nice, so if the guys get annoying you two can just talk together.”

“Why, do you guys have a tendency to get annoying when you’re together?,” you ask lightheartedly, making Sunghoon chuckle.

“Not always, but it’s a possibility. They’re nice though, so don’t worry. Jay and Jake especially are outgoing, even though Jay kinda ruins the mood sometimes cause his jokes are just awful. Heeseung is a bit shy though, just don’t take it personal if he like, doesn’t really talk to you or anything.”

“That’s funny, that reminds me of someone,” you say with a smile, unable to stop yourself. Sunghoon just replies with one of his famous whatevers.

It takes you about an hour to get to Perpignan. When you arrive, his friends are waiting outside of the McDonald’s, the boys waving with their whole arms in your direction while Yunjin watches them cross-armed, a smile on her face. “Oh, God,” Sunghoon murmurs, already embarrassed by his friends. “They’re not always like that, I promise,” he says as you walk over to them.

“Really,” you deadpan when they’ve started chanting Sunghoon’s name, watching as his face turns a deeper shade of red.

“Hi guys,” he greets them, bro-hugging Heeseung, Jay and Jake and kissing Yunjin on each cheek. You remind yourself once again to start from the right and not the left, and greet the boys first. They all say “hi, Y/N” and give you their names, and you’re quite flustered that you don’t need to tell them your name.

“Sunghoon’s told us a lot about you,” Jake says with a knowing expression, and you all chuckle when Sunghoon mutters “shut up, Jake.”

You go to greet Yunjin next and you’re surprised when, rather than simply pressing the corner of her lips against your cheek like most people do when they greet someone they’re not particularly close to, she actually kisses your cheek, an extra-friendly gesture. “I was so relieved when Sunghoon said he was bringing a girl,” she confesses, reminding you of Yeji, “I can’t deal with having to babysit these four all the time. Look at them,” she says, gesturing towards the quartet with a nudge of her head. They’re sizing Sunghoon up, ruffling his hair, pinching his cheeks and brushing away invisible creases in his t-shirt as he tries to swat their hands away, to no avail, and you can’t help but laugh at them along with Yunjin.

You all head inside the McDonald’s, getting into pairs of two to pick your order on the giant touch screens. You choose a McChicken, potato wedges and ice tea, and Sunghoon chides you for getting wedges instead of fries.

“People who get those think they’re better than everyone else,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Because we are,” you say with a smile. You touch the screen to get to the payment page but Sunghoon goes back, saying he’ll order too.

“But I need to pay?” you say, looking up at him questioningly.

“I can pay for the two of us,” he says nonchalantly, and you tease him with an ‘ooh.’ “Shut up,” he mutters, already blushing, “just let me do something nice for you.”

“Fine,” you smile, nudging his shoulder with yours a bit. “Thanks. I’ll get the cinema tickets then.”

He turns to you abruptly, his eyebrows drawn in together. “But then that cancels out me paying for this…” he whines, and you give him a look as if to say, “yeah, exactly.”

“I don’t mind getting the tickets,” he says. “I get paid for my work at the club but I never spend any money, so, you know, I can get this for you. It makes me happy,” he mumbles, avoiding your teasing gaze.

“Thanks, Hoon,” you say, the nickname escaping your lips before you can stop it. He doesn’t seem to mind it; if anything, his blush gets deeper. You think he might end up eternally red at this rate.

“Of course.” He orders a double Big Mac, fries and a coke, and you tease him for getting such a boring meal. “They’re classics for a reason,” he defends himself.

You swear you’ve never seen him so red and so stuttery as when you get on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek as a thank you for paying, and you think there’s no way he could get any cuter than this. His friends don’t miss it and Jake punches him very obnoxiously in the shoulder as what you can only assume is a weird congratulatory gesture.

His friends are a bit annoying, but in a funny way, so it’s okay. You’re so unaccustomed to their very unique sense of humor that everything they say and do makes you laugh, whereas they’re used to behaving like that and don’t even question their weirdness anymore. Contrary to what Sunghoon told you, Jay’s jokes land with you every time, even when the whole table grunts.

Most of the conversation, to Sunghoon’s dismay, is spent telling embarrassing stories about him, which his friends have a lot of after having seen him drunk so many times. Heeseung asks you about how it’s been being with Sunghoon at the club, and you don’t really notice the sly smirk on his and Jake’s faces until you’re done answering. You tell them about all the things he’s made you do, but when you notice him about to complain, you add that it’s also been nice, learning how to ride a horse and spending time in the countryside.

“So you’ve seen Sunghoon ride, then?” Jake asks, and Heeseung’s snort tells you it’s not an innocent question.

“Yeah, I have,” you say, but it comes out more a question because their behavior confuses you.

Jake gives you a pointed look. “And, what did you think? I mean, it’s not the coolest sport out there, is it?” he asks, and the way Sunghoon looks down at his half-eaten burger is enough for you to put the puzzle pieces together.

You frown slightly. “Well, I think it’s a lot cooler than running after a ball and pretending like you’re gonna die when you twist your ankle,” you reply, remembering Jake’s mention of him playing soccer. Jay is quick to diffuse the tension when he sees Jake about to bite something back, saying to just talk about something else. You back off and look at Sunghoon, who seems to have completely spaced out and left the conversation. You rest your hand at the top of his knee, his attention snapping back towards you and he gives you a small smile, then turns to his friends and the conversation starts again as if nothing had happened. You’re thankful for it, because you don’t wanna create trouble the first time you meet them and make it awkward, but you really don’t appreciate his friends making him feel like he’s not “cool” because he’s a horse rider; there’s already enough stigma about it being a girls’ sport, he doesn’t need any added pressure from them.

The rest of the meal goes well, Heeseung and Yunjin throwing fries at each other, and the table making fun of Jay for eating his McFlurry so messily. Apart from the horse riding comment and the fact that they love teasing him (which you do too, to be fair), Sunghoon’s friends are nice and make him laugh, so you relax around them once again, although you and Jake exchange a few tense eye contacts. You won’t feel sorry for defending Sunghoon, even if you’ve known him for three weeks and Jake has for two years.

When you’re done eating, you walk to the movie theater that’s just two minutes away, the boys ahead and you and Yunjin in tow. “I’m really glad you spoke up for Sunghoon earlier, and I’m sure he appreciated it too,” she says, just loud enough for you to hear. “I’ve tried speaking about it with Heeseung, but he and Jake just don’t seem to get that it actually annoys Sunghoon and they say it’s just for fun. I did horse riding when I was a kid, so I know how hard it actually is, and Jay is just a bit more mature than them, so we try to get them to stop, but they still do it a bit. Their humor is basically just making fun of everyone in their group, so sometimes they don’t know when to stop.”

You nod at her words, the situation a bit clearer now. “He should bring them to the club and show them how good he is,” you say. “Or better yet, make them get on a horse so they can see firsthand that it’s not the horse doing all the work like everyone says.” Yunjin laughs and agrees, saying she’d pay to see those boys on a horse.

You reach the cinema as you make a note to talk to Sunghoon about this later before you can forget. You ask Yunjin what movie you’re seeing, realizing you had no idea, and she rolls her eyes. “I wanted to go see the new Marion Cotillard movie, but the boys said it looked boring, so we’re going to watch some horror movie. I don’t even know the name, but I’m sure it’s just a rehash of the same tired haunted house plot.”

While Sunghoon gets the tickets, you sneak to the food counter and get two bottles of coke and a large popcorn to share with him. He complains that he could’ve gotten that but you shut him up with a tut.

“Are you good at watching horror movies?” you lean in and whisper when you’re seated and waiting for the movie to start while ads play, and you see him shiver slightly, but that might just be because of the aircon in the theater and not your proximity.

“What do you mean, am I good at watching them? Do you mean if I like them?” he asks, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he looks at you.

“No, I mean if you get scared easily. You can like them and watch them a lot but still get scared. I feel like you’d scream at all the jumpscares,” you add that later part just to tease him, and you know you hit bullseye when he looks away with a scoff, straightening in his seat.

“I guess they’re fun to watch, but no, I don’t get scared. And I’m definitely not going to scream.” He looks down at you with a smirk, his confidence hitting him out of nowhere as it sometimes does. “But I know you will, so feel free to hold onto my arm when you get scared,” he says, and it’s your turn to scoff and look away.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be alright,” you say just as the lights start to dim and the movie starts playing.

It takes a while for the movie to pick up, so the first half hour, you’re not really into it, paying more attention to the way your hand brushes against Sunghoon’s whenever you reach for the popcorn at the same time rather than to what is happening on screen. However, when a ghost with a very unpleasant face suddenly pops out, you can’t keep yourself from jumping in your seat and letting out a small gasp which Sunghoon would’ve made fun of, had he not been twice spooked as you were, the pieces of popcorn he was about to eat discarded somewhere at his feet because of the jumpscare.

You share a look with Sunghoon and when the both of you realize the other was completely bluffing, you burst into quiet giggles. He offers you his arm to hold onto again and you roll your eyes but take it anyway, glad for the reassurance his warmth brings you. You wrap one hand around his bicep and place the other in his hand, interlacing your fingers together, and for once you’re the shy one and can’t look him in the eye, keeping your gaze on the screen when you feel his eyes on you, surprised but pleased by your cute action.

You spend the rest of the movie like this, bodies turning towards each other every time something scary happens on screen as if instinctively going to the other to find comfort. If you weren’t in a public place, you probably would’ve ended up in his lap. Or he in yours, perhaps.

The loss of his warmth when the movie ends and the lights turn back on makes your heart a bit sad, and you already find yourself waiting for the time you’ll get to feel him next to you again. When you walk out of the theater, the sun’s finally set and the sky is starting to get dark. You all walk back to the parking lot, Heeseung, Jay, Jake and Yunjin ahead, talking about the movie excitedly and recalling their favorite scenes, but you and Sunghoon hang back a bit. He’s silent and for a second you’re worried all the hand-holding has made him awkward but when you look up at him, he gives you a smile that calms all your nerves in an instant.

Jake suddenly turns around to face you, walking backwards. “What did you two lovebirds think?” he asks.

“It was alright,” Sunghoon answers. “It had some scary scenes but I couldn’t really get into it.”

“Yeah, that’s ‘cause you two were too busy being all- ow!” Jake starts but is interrupted by a kick in the shins, courtesy of Jay.

“Can you read the room, just once in your life, bro?” he says, and Jake rolls his eyes but turns back around anyway, leaving you and Sunghoon to laugh at his friends’ antics.

When you reach the parking lot, you say goodbye to everyone, saying it was nice meeting them and you hoped to see them again soon. “If you can, you should try and visit the club at some point, it’d be nice seeing you there,” you tell Yunjin as you hug her goodbye.

The car ride home is silent at first, betraying both your and Sunghoon’s shyness. “Tonight was nice,” you start, wanting to start a conversation after a few minutes of just looking out the window.

Sunghoon responds immediately as if he’d been waiting for you to say something. “Yeah? I’m glad. I was scared you weren’t going to like my friends or something…” he says, glancing at you with a worried expression on his face.

“Well, I really liked Yunjin and Jay…” you trail.

“But?”

“But…” you sigh, too late to turn back, but unsure whether it’s your place to bring this up. “Heeseung and Jake were nice, you know, but that comment they made about you horse riding really brushed me the wrong way.”

“Aww,” Sunghoon coos, and you roll your eyes at his fake saccharine tone. “Did it make you upset for me?”

“It did!” you say, wanting Sunghoon to know you were serious. “Friends shouldn’t make fun of your passions. Plus you’re really good at it, and I’m sure they’d be impressed by you. I talked about it with Yunjin, you know,” you add before he can cut in. “She said it happens all the time and you’re used to it, but it’s not something you should have to put up with. You should have them over at the club some day.”

Sunghoon hums, pouting his lips a bit. “I don’t know… It’s not that big of a deal. It’s how we mess with each other.”

“You looked really down when they were saying those things, Hoon. You’re allowed to say when something bothers you. And if they don’t listen, then they’re assholes. I know you’ve been friends for a while now, and I’m not trying to make you cut them off by any means, but I think you should talk to them. If they’re good friends, they’ll understand and not want to say something that hurts you. At least I hope so,” you say, looking out the window again to hide how upset this truly makes you. Sunghoon’s next words come as a surprise to you.

“Thanks, Y/N.” You look back at him with a questioning look, wordlessly asking him to go on, and he sighs. “I’m sort of used to keeping everything for myself. Taking a step back so I don’t take things personally, not complaining and just doing what I’m told even if it’s not what I want to do, stuff like that, I’m used to it. I just- I don’t wanna bother anyone, you know. I think you’re the first person who’s ever told me I’m allowed to voice things out.”

You don’t know what to say for a few seconds, shocked by this revelation. It’s very fitting of him - sacrificing his potential career for his sister, going to vet school to please his parents but taking care of the center whenever he’s on break. You didn’t know this behavior went deeper than that, and it was ingrained in him to just take it all and never put up a fight.

You say, “You’re allowed to put yourself first, you know. Sometimes, you even need to,” and it’s an unfamiliar breath of fresh air that blows away some of the weight on his shoulders, hearing those words. He chuckles a bit, hoping that the tears pooling in his eyes don’t accidentally overflow.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to do that, but it’s nice knowing I have the option. Thank you, Y/N,” he repeats, and you smile at him, relieved when he smiles back.

The rest of the car ride goes by in a flash as you make fun of each other for being so scared of the film and jump from topic to topic like frogs bouncing around lily pads, somehow neither of you ever losing track of the conversation. You tell him someone with such a boring McDonald’s order doesn’t deserve to have opinions and he says that of course you’d think that since you chose potato wedges instead of french fries.

Without noticing it, you soon reach the center, and Sunghoon walks you to your doorstep after parking the car. You stand in front of each other at the door, and you seriously feel like the main lead in a teen rom-com, butterflies in your stomach and all the works as you look up at him, expecting a little something.

“So…” he starts, pressing his lips into a flat line to hide his smile.

“So…” you repeat, nudging your foot with his as you both look down.

“Tonight was nice,” he says sheepishly and you can’t help but laugh, him soon imitating you.

“It was. But we’ve already established that, I think.”

“Right.” His gaze finds yours, and the look in his eyes makes your heart feel like it’s on an acid trip. You stare at each other for a few seconds, unable to look away, and you’re about to run off into the house, the tension too much to handle, when his eyes finally drop to your lips. Knowing him, he probably won’t do much more, so you take a small step towards him and raise your lips towards his, closing the distance between the two of you inch by inch, getting closer, closer, closer, until-

“Sunghoon!” Yeji’s voice rings out in the night, taking you aback as you gasp and stumble a few steps back, not wanting her to see you almost devour her brother’s face. Sunghoon closes his eyes and shakes his head, then lets out an exasperated “what.”

“I can’t believe you went to see that new movie without me. I saw it in Jay's story. I told you I wanted to go see it!”

He sighs and looks at you, mouthing a “sorry” before walking towards her, hooking his arm over her shoulders as he walks her back to their house.

“Sorry, lil sis. We can go watch it together, I don’t mind seeing it again. Also, why do you follow Jay? Unfollow him,” he commands, and after that you can’t hear anything because they’re too far away. You watch them walk with a smile on your face, appreciating their little moment together, and your heart does a little somersault of joy when Sunghoon turns around to wave at you from his door.

After that night, you’re more determined than ever to turn that almost-kiss into a actually-happened-kiss. However, your resolve soon seems to have been for nothing when Sunghoon tells you about how he wishes he didn’t have to leave with his parents, but they won’t let him stay, and you’re reminded of the Parks yearly vacation that starts the next day, exactly three days after the night out.

It’s a late Sunday afternoon and you’ve done everything you needed to for that day, so you and Sunghoon went off on a horse ride as you often do, deciding to take a break when you reach a field in which a bunch of haystacks rest. You only had to exchange a look to understand the other immediately, so you tied your horses to a tree and raced over to the closest stack, helping each other get to the top and laying there.

“I wish you didn’t have to go either,” you say, playing with a loose strand of hay peeking out from the stack in the small space between you and Sunghoon.

“You gonna miss me?” Sunghoon teases, grinning as he lightly nudges your shoulder.

“As surprising as it sounds, I think I might,” you say, and from the corner of your eye you see his grin get wider.

“I think I will too,” he replies, and he giggles when he sees you try and fail to suppress a smile. “Actually, I definitely will,” he adds just to see you smile bigger, and it works.

“When are you leaving again exactly?” you ask to change the subject.

“Early tomorrow morning. I still haven’t packed,” he says and sighs.

“We should head back so you can pack,” you say even though you don’t want to do that at all.

“Yeah, we should, but I don’t want to,” he replies, practically reading your mind. “I wanna stay here for a while.”

A small silence settles between the two of you, but it says more than a thousand words. The tension that has been hanging over your heads for a while now but only thickened after Friday night is almost palpable now. You’re laying so close that your arms are almost touching, occasionally brushing when one of you shifts, and if you turned your head, his face would be right there, which means his lips would be right there. Well, one of you is going to have to do something about this tension, you think, and it’s definitely not going to be him.

“Sunghoon?” you call out, turning your head towards the boy next to you. He does the same and your eyes meet. In this late afternoon hour, the sun is right behind you and he has to squint a little bit and use his hand as a shield to look at you properly. He looks a bit stupid like that, but you think he’s cute.

“Yeah?”

The warm feeling that spreads over your whole body at the sound of his voice is what gives you the confirmation that you want to say what you say next, and the courage to do it.

“Can I kiss you?”

His eyebrows raise slightly but he’s quick to hide his surprise and starts grinning instead, revealing those fangs of his you love so much. You have a feeling they’d leave the cutest marks on your skin. “Sure,” he says, letting his eyes drift down to your lips just like that other night.

So you do.

You lean in close enough to press your lips onto his, letting them touch for a brief second before leaning back again. A small pout forms on his lips at the fleeting contact. “That’s it?”

You could just eat him whole, you think. A kiss will have to do. “What did you want?” you ask, trying and failing to hide a smirk.

“That wasn’t a proper kiss.”

“Yeah? What’s a proper kiss then?”

He looks away with a huff. “I’m sure you know what a proper kiss is. Why would you ask to kiss me if you’re not even gonna do it properly…”

“How about you show me then?”

This makes him look promptly back at you, his eyes a bit wider. When he just gulps without saying anything, you add: “Or should I try again? Properly this time?”

He nods, eyes set on your lips. He’d always found them pretty and inviting, and he’d caught himself daydreaming about this exact moment a few times, but now that it was right in front of him, his brain was short-circuiting. All he could do was close his eyes and wait for you.

You find it cute how he screws his eyes shut before you’re even kissing him, making him look like a k-drama female lead during the first kiss scene. You can’t help but smile a little even as you bring your lips to his once again, this time a bit firmer, a bit deeper. He waits for you to move your lips against his before he does so too, but once he’s started, he’s unstoppable.

In fleeting conversations and off-hand comments, you’d learned that Sunghoon had had a couple girlfriends but that it always ended after a few months. When you’d accused him of “virgin behavior” after he did something embarrassing for an almost twenty-year-old, he’d fervently defended himself of very much not being virgin and very much having had sex before, which you’d said was what a virgin would say, but you knew he was saying the truth because he wasn’t the type to lie, especially about this sort of thing.

What was sure was that he kissed you like he knew what he was doing, and he was doing it well. His shy demeanor from a minute ago is completely gone as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss, holding you tight against him. His hands were shy at first, but when yours made their way to his hair so you could gently tug at the strands there, he understood he didn’t need to be so polite. One of his hands found your waist while the other cupped your cheek, his thumb coming under your chin to tilt it up towards him.

Your lips move against the others’ like you’d done this your whole life, and you’re unable to keep it Disney-friendly for long as your feelings and the fact that you were finally touching each other like you’d been wanting to take over any reason you had left. The kiss turns hungrier, needier, hotter, as if catching up on all that time you lost to dilly-dallying around each other. It’s easy to slip your tongue inside his mouth and you swear you hear him moan when your tongues come into contact, the small sound making your brain turn into mush and giving you one goal, and one goal only: hear him again.

You pull away and press a palm to his shoulder, and he lets you push him down on his back as you straddle his lips, positioning your core right over his growing erection and watching with a smirk as he bites his lips and furrows his eyebrows, humming at the feeling of you against him. You press your lips back against his and note with satisfaction that his movements are messier than before, kissing you mouth open and letting you take full control of the kiss, almost unable to focus on kissing you and on feeling you grind very lightly, almost teasingly against him. Slick pools in your underwear at the angelic sounds he’s making, and you’re very happy he doesn’t seem to be shy about being vocal because his moans are the prettiest sound you've ever heard.

You move away from his lips and trail wet kisses on his cheeks and jawline, moving down to his neck and his Adam’s apple, gently biting and sucking the skin at the base of his throat, enough to make him squirm underneath you but not enough to leave a mark, even though you’d love to, the thought of other girls seeing him all marked up because of you filling you with a sense of pride you didn’t know you could have.

You find his sweet spot at the juncture of his neck and his shoulder, so you kiss him more there, tracing the other side of his neck with your fingernails. He’s so sensitive and those actions alone are enough to have him whine a small “fuck, Y/N, that feels so good,” and you think you might actually go insane with lust for him.

You’ve just started kissing him on the lips again, his hands holding your hips so tightly you think they might almost bruise your skin and his kisses desperate and needy, when his phone buzzes. Taken aback, you pull away quickly, and he whines at the loss of contact. He goes in to kiss you again but you tut and tell him to check his phone in case it’s important. You note that he does what you say, and you wonder whether that’ll hold up for other situations. You observe him as he unlocks his phone and reads the text, and you curse yourself for waiting until he leaves to do this. You could’ve had him heaving, cheeks rosy, lips slightly swollen and eyes blown out for some weeks now, but your hesitation prevented you from doing anything, and now you’ll have to wait ten more days to see him like this again - that is, if he wants to do it again.

“It’s my mom,” he says with a sigh, snapping you out of your reverie. “She says I need to come home and pack my bag and have dinner.”

You pout at each other and he sits up, wrapping his arms around your middle and nuzzling his face in your neck. The rather intimate action surprises you a bit, but mostly you find it endearing, and it was pretty obvious Sunghoon would be the clingy type. You’re happy he feels comfortable enough around you to show this side of him - plus, it makes him ten times more adorable than he already was in your eyes.

“I want to go even less now,” he murmurs, voice muffled and you giggle at him as you caress his head.

“Same. But ten days will go by quickly, right? And I’ll be right here when you come back,” you say, leaning back so you can cup his face in your palms and look at him, his cheeks a bit squished. “You’re so cute,” you whisper with a smile, and the compliment makes his cheeks heat up but for once he doesn’t look away and keeps your gaze locked in his.

You peck his lips quickly and get off of his lap. “Right, we should go then,” and when he whines in protest, you add, “your mom will be mad, Hoon,” which is enough to convince him.

You head slowly back to the center and walk the horses to their stalls, talking about this and that as you often do, but you grow silent as you near his house, dreading having to say goodbye. The only difference with Friday night is that you’re standing at his door and not yours; the tension and heart-fluttering awkwardness are the same. Well, maybe not exactly the same, because you had your tongue down his throat just fifteen minutes ago.

“You’ll be alright when I’m gone, right?” he asks, taking your hands in his and letting them hang between you two.

“Yeah, I will. Plus, your parents’ friend is coming to take care of the club, right? I’ll help her, and I’ll hang out with my grandma while you’re on vacation and the ten days will be over before we know it,” you say, more trying to reassure yourself than him.

Sunghoon sighs but nods as if trying to convince himself too. “Right.”

“Right,” you repeat, and look up at him with a smile. The thought that this might look completely dramatic to any outsider crosses your mind, but you ignore it because you’re really not looking forward to spending ten days without Sunghoon here. When he comes back, you’ll only have three weeks left, and that simple fact already makes your heart ache.

He takes you in his arms and holds you close to him for a few moments. “Okay. I’ll see you soon, Y/N,” he whispers in your hair. “Don’t miss me too much. But not too little either. Just the right amount,” he jokes, and usually you’d have punched his chest or something but right now all you can do is chuckle. He pulls away and pecks you on the lips, and when you take a step back, he opens the door and waves at you goodbye, then disappears inside the house.

Not to be dramatic, but those ten days are probably the longest of your life. The Parks’ friend, Madame Rasson, is nice enough, and you enjoy helping her out and having dinner with her and your grandmother every night, but she’s no Park Sunghoon. You don’t really have the urge to gallop away with her and kiss at the top of a haystack as the sun sets behind you, nor do you feel like a small part of your heart stays with her when you’re not together.

Sunghoon calls you every night under the pretext of wanting to know how the horses are doing, but you know Mrs Park and Mme Rasson are keeping in touch and that he just wants to talk to you. You don’t call him out on it though and let him tell you about his day when he’s done pretending he cares about who did what and who went where. After a few days, as you’re nearing the end of a call, he tells you he misses you then hangs up right after as if he hadn’t been basically crying into your shirt about how much he didn’t want to leave and how much he’d miss you just a few days prior, but you just giggle and text him that you miss him too, which he texts a heart back to.

Yunjin also comes around one day, saying she missed horse riding and wanted to hang out again, so you show her around the club and go on a horse ride together, taking her to all the spots Sunghoon took you to, pointing with a giggle to the spot where you made out. She gasps when she hears that and lightly slaps your shoulder. “You two made out?” she says, surprise and excitement all over her face. You only giggle some more and nod, face heating up.

“I mean, it was obvious it would happen at some point. You guys were giving each other major heart eyes the other day.” You roll your eyes and say you weren’t even though you know you very much were. “Plus, the guys send a lot of voice messages on their group chat and I sometimes listen to them with Heeseung. The way Sunghoon talks about you is so cute it makes me want to throw up sometimes.”

The thought of Sunghoon talking about you to his friends makes your heart jump and swell with pride a bit. “Really? What does he say?” you ask, not looking at Yunjin to hide the stupid smile you’re wearing.

“He just talks about your day and what you guys did, but he’ll focus on a random thing like the way you said hi to the horses or how you ate your food and he’ll be like, it was the cutest thing ever. He doesn’t go into too much detail cause he knows the guys will make fun of him but it’s still really sweet. Heeseung told me he’s never talked about any other girl like that, you know,” she says, looking at you pointedly. “And you probably also know Sunghoon isn’t the easiest to get to know. But he’s clearly let you in, and he really wanted you to meet the boys, so I think he really, really likes you.”

You give yourself a few moments to process Yunjin’s words, but all you can say in the end is “Well, I really, really like him too,” and Yunjin laughs at you.

She stays over for dinner, charming your grandmother with her jokes and willingness to help, and spends the night as well. You two stay up until late talking about your families, school, how she met Heeseung and how cute you and Sunghoon are, and the fact that you have to stay quiet so as not to wake your grandma up makes you want to laugh even harder. When she leaves the next morning, she mentions that she saw the sea was really nearby and asked if you’d been.

“I haven’t yet, but Sunghoon did say he knew a spot and would take me sometime… I’ll ask him about it again,” you say, and she nods fervently, saying she hasn’t been to the beach forever. You hug each other goodbye and you wave at her until you can’t see her car anymore, and you get that empty feeling of being alone again, so you go find your grandmother and bother her with tons of questions which she answers patiently. Five days to go until Sunghoon comes back.

And then these five days are over, and Sunghoon finds you in the middle of the afternoon, taking a nap in your grandmother’s backyard and oblivious to the fact that the boy you like the most is back. He wakes you up by taking your sunglasses delicately off of your eyes and pressing his lips to the top of your head. You frown and open your eyes bit by bit until you recognise the boy hunching over you and then open your eyes all at once, sitting up in your lounge chair and wrapping your arms around Sunghoon’s neck, pulling him down towards you.

“Hi,” he giggles, chin hooked over your shoulder.

“You’re back!”

“I am.” He pulls away to peck your lips, and it’s like he hasn’t even left a day. “I’ll go get changed and check on Nellie and then we can go for a horse ride, if you want?”

You nod excitedly. “Sure. I’ll go get the horses ready.” You both rush to your respective destinations and meet again fifteen minutes later in the grooming hall just as you finish buckling Picasso’s saddle. Sunghoon pecks your lips once more just because he can, and then you’re off.

Sunghoon’s prepared a blanket so you could lie in the grass in the clearing. On your way there, you ask him about his vacation and he admits it was actually really fun. They drove down to Spain, spending a couple days in Barcelona and then a week in a smaller seaside town. In terms of weather and landscape, it wasn’t very different from their hometown, but the food was amazing and the people very welcoming, and Sunghoon and Yeji could finally put their years of learning Spanish in school to the test.

“I took a lot of pictures because there were so many things that reminded me of you or that I thought you’d like,” he admits bashfully, taking out his phone from his bag once you’re settled on the blanket. You rest your head on his chest and rest your hand on the side of his stomach, feeling the vibrations of his laughter against your ear and commenting on the pictures he shows you, giggling when he starts rapidly scrolling through fifteen consecutive selfies.

You try to keep up a conversation but it’s a bit hard to do when his neck is right there, close enough for you to press kisses on or to nuzzle your face in if you just lifted your head a bit, and his skin is soft and warm and you want to feel all of it under your palms. Even Sunghoon, who usually never shuts up when he’s with someone he’s comfortable around, is quiet. His sigh when you trail your hand up from his waist to his shoulder tells you he’s probably thinking the same as you, and as soon as you graze your fingers through his hair, he’s rolled you onto your back and his lips are on yours, kissing you with all the need that’s built up over the past ten days. You have a feeling just kissing won’t be enough to satisfy either of you today.

There’s a sense of urgency to all of your movements, the way all four hands are restless and travel each other’s body tirelessly, pulling on the other’s hair, kneading the skin here, caressing it here. Sunghoon bites down on your lower lip and the action makes you moan, so he takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your kisses are open-mouthed and wet and messy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way because they translate all the desire you have for him and you want him to know exactly just how he’s making you feel.

You remember how much Sunghoon likes it when you compliment him, or tease him using your words, so you decide to do just that. When he starts trailing kisses your jaw, then sucking and biting at your neck, leaving tiny marks there, you whisper his name, making him hum.

“Hoon. I want you so fucking bad.”

You feel him trembling at your words and he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, whining as he continues pressing wet kisses there. He ruts his hips into yours, seemingly more by reaction than deliberately. “Want you too,” he murmurs, and slips his hands underneath your t-shirt, the flesh on your stomach burning everywhere his hands touch it. You lift your arms so he can take the piece of fabric off, and he’s quick to find the back of your bra as well, unclasping it and revealing your breasts to him.

In no time he’s already delving into your body, pretty pink lips circling and sucking on one of your nipples and deft fingers playing with the other, warmth spreading all over you at the intense pleasure he’s finally giving you, wetness already starting to make your underwear stick to your core.

Your fingers find purchase in his hair, pulling whenever it feels particularly good, and he seems to like the pain that comes with it because it’s enough to have him moaning around your nipple. “Fuck, Hoon, that feels so good,” you breathe out. Despite your praise and to your confusion, he pulls away, trailing kisses down your stomach until he reaches your shorts and looks up at you when his fingers are around the button, asking for confirmation to go further. He whispers “thank God” when you nod your head yes.

“Wanna make you feel good,” he says as he drags your shorts and underwear down at the same time, eyes fixated on your glistening folds.

You hold yourself up on your elbows, admiring him and his blown-out pupils and disheveled hair - he’s never looked hotter. “You already were, baby.”

“Wanna make you feel even better,” he says before diving right into your pussy, giving you no time to get used to the feeling as his tongue licks up a long stripe up your folds before finding your clit, alternating between giving it kitty-licks and sucking it. You’re a moaning mess in an instant, pulling even harder at his hair and sometimes holding onto his shoulders as if your body might start levitating at any moment. As if that didn’t already feel good enough, he then adds a finger, and quickly a second one into your hole, his thin and long digits feeling better than yours ever have. He must be some kind of fingering expert because he finds your g-spot in thirty seconds, pressing the sensitive spot again and again until you come apart for him in an embarrassingly quick orgasm, moaning his name and how good it feels like a broken record.

That doesn’t seem to be enough for Sunghoon, however, who doesn’t relent and sends your body into overstimulation until you find the energy to tell him to stop. “Was that good?” he asks innocently when his lips find yours again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Was it good?” you repeat, almost scoffing. “Baby, it was amazing.”

“Really?” he asks, a childlike grin on his face that is worlds away from the things he just did to your body.

“Really. Let me show you how good it felt,” you say with a mischievous smile, pushing his shoulder down so you switch positions and he’s the one laying, back against the blanket. “Let’s get this all off, yeah?” you say, hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt, and when that’s gone, with the band of his sweatpants and underwear. He gulps when he’s fully naked under your curious gaze, but he’s brave and his eyes don't leave your face, patiently waiting for what you’ll say or do next.

“So pretty, Hoon,” you purr as your hands trail from his thighs up to his neck, applying some pressure there, not enough to cut off any oxygen but enough for him to feel it. “And all for me,” you add as you mark his neck just like he did yours, before pushing yourself down his body until your face is level with his now fully hard cock. You press wet kisses to his thighs and hear his breaths get shakier when your kisses get dangerously close to his crotch. “Haven’t even touched you, and you’re already this hard, baby?” you tease, and chuckle when his cock twitches at your words.

“Please,” he implores, voice small.

“Just a second, baby. Be good for me, yeah?” you ask and he nods, eyes screwed shut as if in pain. You had a feeling that Sunghoon might like to give control rather than have it, but you hadn’t thought he’d let you have full power over him like that. You can’t say you dislike it, though.

You don’t want to make him wait for too long, and the sigh of relief he lets out when you finally place your tongue on the base of his shaft and lick a stripe up is worth it. Your baby is loud and lets you know exactly what he likes, and what he likes is when you pay attention to his tip and his sensitive balls at the same time. You alternate between having your lips around his tip, hands massaging him, and your palm circling his tip, taking his balls in your mouth and letting them out with a pop. In just a few minutes, his whole body is shaking under your touch and his moans are getting louder and louder, almost shout-like. He calls out your name and pleads with you to stop, and you look up at him with a worried expression. Before you can ask if he’s okay, he says, “Wanna cum inside you,” and how can you refuse him when his blush has spread to his whole face and his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration and pleasure, trying his best not to cum?

“Of course, baby.”

He sits up and you straddle his lap, telling him you’re on the pill when he’s about to pull out a condom he’d sneakily brought from his bag. “Fuck, okay,” he says, voice shaky at the idea of feeling your bare walls around him.

You raise yourself over him, your arms wrapping themselves around his neck and his around your waist, you line your entrance up with his dick and then sit back down onto his lap, his cock stretching you out in the best way possible as it slips right in, your wetness serving as natural lube. You waste no time before moving your hips against his, first rocking them back and forth and then raising them up and down, the both of you letting out loud moans and breaths at the pleasure taking over your bodies.

“Y/N, feels so good, gonna cum quick,” he breathes out into the crook of your neck, biting the flesh there which feels surprisingly good.

“That’s okay baby, you’ve done so well, cum whenever you want.”

“Want you to cum too, though,” he whines, and you can’t help but chuckle.

“You already made me- fuck!” you scream out of surprise when Sunghoon’s hands suddenly grip your thighs tightly and he holds you steady like this as he ruts his hips up into yours, the angle hitting right where it needs to. Your brain can’t form sentences that make any sort of sense so you’re left blabbering praises and curses at the same time, feeling your second orgasm rapidly approaching.

“Fuck, baby, just like that, fuck- so close, Hoon…”

The feeling of your walls clenching as your high washes over you is enough for Sunghoon to tip over the edge as well, your releases mixing together in a loud and sticky mess. You’ve never felt closer to heaven as you do now.

The seriousness of it all soon starts to fade as you and Sunghoon lock eyes and burst into giggles, breathing still heavy and irregular. You help clean each other up and put your clothes back on, but you don’t head home until the sun has long set, feasting on the snacks and water he’d brought along.

You check the time before you go to bed that night. 00:57, Thursday 11th August 2022. Twenty days left with Sunghoon.

Eighteen days left with Sunghoon. Your last days together feel like a montage, like you’re watching a movie in which you play the lead role and you know the ending credits will have to start rolling at some point. You hate to be thinking that way, but the first thing you do when you wake up every morning is check the date and tell yourself how many days you’ve got left with your summer love. 19 days, 18 days. If Sunghoon feels a change in your attitude, how your gaze lingers more, how your touch softens, he doesn’t say anything.

You mentioned how you and Yunjin would like to go to the beach, so he called up his friends and got them to drive all the way over here. He said another time when you told him this is the perfect opportunity to show them his horse riding, and you didn’t push it.

He drives you all to what he calls ‘his’ beach spot, and indeed, it feels like it’s yours and yours only. It’s a bit of a trek getting there, having to walk up a dirt road and climbing some rocks before heading down to a small sandy beach where the sand is so hot it burns and the water only feels refreshing for two minutes, but you love it. He side-eyes Jake and Jay when you take off your dress and reveal your bikini-clad body, and barks at them to stop salivating even though they weren’t looking at you.

Yunjin on Heeseung’s shoulders, Jake on Jay’s and you on Sunghoon’s, the six of you play a tournament of who can make the others fall faster. Your boy has amazing balance, robust legs, a strong core, and decent (surprisingly impressive) arm muscles, so you win, a victory peck turning into a makeout session that everybody groans at, except for Jake who whoops.

You apply sunscreen on each other’s backs and complain that evening when you’ve got weirdly-shaped sunburns anyway, you along the lines of your swimsuit and him on the back of his knees. You eat the watermelon Jay brought and the boys spit black seeds at each other, not daring to do it to you or Yunjin after the stank look you gave them.

When you get home and everyone has driven off, neither of you is quite ready to call it a night yet. Sunghoon eyes the backseat of his car and you understand what he wants immediately. His skin smells like sun, sweat, sunscreen and sea water, and it’s all so him. It smells so good, it’s almost intoxicating, and you think you’ll never be able to get enough of his scent, of him. You won’t be able to look up at the bright star in the day sky or at an orange bottle of sticky sunscreen the same way ever again.

You’ve had many things in your life. You’ve had dolls, and you’ve had books and CDs. You’ve also had and still have friends, sometimes even boyfriends. You’ve had fun, and times that were not as fun. You’ve had sex. But you’ve not had anything like what you have with Sunghoon. He’s the one who gave you the intense feeling of truly loving and being loved, the insatiable craving of wanting more, the overwhelming need to see and talk to and feel and smell.

He’s the one who gave you the best summer of your life, and it’s the best thing you’ve ever had. It overpowers everything you’ve ever had to the point that it feels like it’s the first thing you’ve ever had; it might be the only thing you ever have, because you don’t understand how you could want anything else now that you’ve had him. He’s all you need.

Seventeen days left with Sunghoon. You’re having your joyful weekly dinner with your grandmother and the Parks when you feel something hit your foot gently. You feel it again, and when you look up at the boy sitting right across the table from you he’s trying to hide a small smile, but you know him too well to miss it. His clothed foot caresses the ridge of your own and you suppress a giggle at the ticklish feelings. You tease him back, and you realize you’re playing footsies at the ripe age of twenty years old, but it doesn’t bother you. You both end up failing at not laughing and when innocently, his mother asks, “what are you two laughing at?”, he coughs and says it’s an inside joke.

Fourteen days left with Sunghoon. The last two weeks of summer lessons have started again and Sunghoon and you can’t run around and lay in random fields at any time of the day anymore, but you still try your best to spend every waking second of the day together, to the despair of his fangirls. However, you still find moments where it’s the two of you in an empty stall and one exchanged look is enough for you to push him against the walls, your lips finding his in the fraction of a second. Sadly, before it can get too heated, a nearby horse always neighs or huffs as if telling you to get a room.

Twelve days left with Sunghoon. Conveniently, Sunghoon’s sister and their parents are out for the night at a party in celebration of the competition season that’s about to end, so you finally get to spend the night in his room. You technically could’ve done it before, but the house is old and the walls are thin, and you didn’t need that kind of humiliation.

Maybe Sunghoon feels that your time is slowly running to its end too, because as the days pass, he melts under your touch like a candle to a flame even more than before, he kisses your lips with more desperation and he holds your hips tighter as if you were going to disappear from between his hands at any moment. He always asks to please, please let’s cum at the same time and please, please say my name and you do it because you’d do anything for him.

You do it three times in a row, both of your bodies weak and sensitive with overstimulation yet unending desire, and you feel tears pouring down your cheeks as your third orgasm of the night hits you. There’s no way anything will ever feel as good as this. You tell him this, and he says, “I know.”

Seven days left with Sunghoon. He asks you what you’ll do when you go home, and you reply that you don’t know, because even though you’ve been thinking about what little time you have left together, you haven’t been thinking about the time after that, simply because it puts a bland feeling in your mouth whenever it crosses your mind. “I’ll start studying again and I’ll start my internship. I’ll get black out drunk at least once a month to forget all the stress and pressure of being a med student. I’ll think about you. That’s probably about it. What about you?”

“I’ll study too and I’ll have an assistantship at some point too. I’ll get drunk on Thursday nights and take care of the club during the weekends. I’ll think about you, too. More than you, I’m sure.”

“That’s not possible. You won’t ever leave my mind.”

“You won’t either,” he whispers.

Two days left with Sunghoon. He tells you you’re going camping for your last night together, not wanting to leave your side for even a second. “We’ve only got so much time left, we need to make the most of it,” he says, and you wished he knew that that had been your exact thought for the past twenty days.

That night, everything goes much slower than it usually does. You take your sweet time taking the clothes off of each other, reveling in discovering the smooth skin underneath the fabric as if you hadn’t seen it dozens of times by now. You find all of his moles and kiss them one by one, and he takes a full minute kissing down from your lips to your core. His thrusts are slow but deep, and your lips don’t leave the other’s the whole time.

Ten hours left with Sunghoon. You wake up the next morning when the sunlight the thin walls of the tent are unable to keep away gets too bright for your eyes’ liking. The warmth of this late August night has made you two drift apart while you slept, but you quickly find his body again and you wrap your arms around him, nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck. He smells like sleep and like himself, which is comforting.

He calls out your name and you lift your head to look at him. When he doesn’t turn his head as well and only gives you his chin and jawline to look at, you know he’s about to say something important. Something he doesn’t dare to say while looking in your eyes.

Your mind goes back to all the times you’ve laid down next to each other and you hope that those will be what you see whenever you think of Sunghoon in the future. The sun not quite ready to call it a day, a slight breeze picking up, the hay a semi-comfortable mattress that sometimes poked you at the back of your neck and arms. Sunghoon right next to you. You were always happy then, hoping you wouldn’t regret anything later. You wouldn’t have known what to do to prevent that anyway.

All you know is you don't want your memory of Sunghoon to be tainted by this moment right now, this moment in which he avoids your gaze and your heart feels heavy because you’re leaving soon and you won’t get to have him in your embrace like this. You want to be happy when you think of him; you don’t want to feel his absence.

“Yeah?” you answer. He still doesn’t look at you, and you get a bit nervous.

He sighs a deep breath like you’ve never seen him do before. “Is it okay if I say something a bit selfish?”

You love him so much. You realize that maybe that’s what you’ll end up regretting. “Go ahead.”

“I wish you didn’t have to leave,” he says, and you almost laugh out of relief.

“That’s not selfish, Hoon. I don’t want to leave, either.” You reach for his hand and he lets you take it, your fingers intertwining immediately as if made to hold each other. To hold onto each other. He still doesn’t look at you, and you know there’s something more there.

“It’s selfish because I’m scared I’ll resent you for leaving,” he says, voice a whisper.

Ah. There it is.

You squeeze his hand, wordlessly asking him to go on. He takes another breath, a shakier one this time, and he chuckles at the tears he feels pooling in his eyes. “You showed up here out of nowhere and you made me so, so happy. You listened to me and got me to open up, which I usually hate doing. You told me that I was good, that you were proud of me. And now you’re leaving and no one will tell me those things anymore.” The first crack in your heart happens when you hear his voice quiver at the end of his sentence.

“You don’t need me to tell you those things. You know them now, and you have yourself,” you try to reassure him.

The second crack happens when he finally turns to look at you, lips trembling and eyes full of tears. “But I want you to tell me those things.” It takes everything in you to not burst into tears, but you want to be strong for him. For the both of you.

“I can still tell you those things. Phones exist, you know.” A small smile appears on your lips as you try to alleviate the tension. Sunghoon’s eyebrows crease and he pouts his lips; you can tell he doesn’t want to laugh in this moment, but the nudge you give him and your smile make his facade break.

You laugh as he whines, telling you this is a serious moment and to not make him laugh. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say between chuckles and you wrap your arms around him, bringing him to lay his head on your chest. You kiss the top of his head and graze your fingers through his hair. “Laughing is all I can do to stop myself from crying, baby,” you whisper. When you feel a tear roll down your cheek, you add, “And it’s not even working that well.”

Sunghoon buries his face deeper between your breasts and sobs. No more, no less, he sobs, loud, choked sobs that make his whole body shake against yours, and you hold him as tight as you can so that they don’t break him in two. “I’m gonna miss you so much,” he manages to say, and that’s when the third and final crack happens and your heart shatters. It breaks into a million tiny pieces that fall all over your body; some of them make their way to your throat while others travel to the tips of your fingers and others lodge themselves behind your knees or in the pits of your stomach. Your heart breaks into sharp pieces and you feel them piercing under your skin everywhere. You feel like you’re gonna throw up.

You and Sunghoon aren’t even technically dating. You’ve known each for two months. You live far, but not halfway across the world; you can see each other again. You will see each other again. It’s not supposed to hurt that much, yet it hurts even more than that.

“I know, baby, I know,” you whisper into his hair. “I’ll miss you so much too. But we’ll see each other again, right? Paris isn’t that far away.”

His sobs calm down and you hear him sniffle as he catches his breath. “Paris isn’t far away, but we’ll be worlds apart. You’re going to study and become a doctor, and I’ll stay here. You know what medical school is like, you’re going to be flooded with work for at least four more years. I can’t expect you to stay in touch all the time.”

“Well, it doesn’t need to be all the time, does it? I’d annoy you if it was.”

“You could never annoy me,” he says, and it makes you laugh. He’d never have said this two months ago.

“Plus, I’ll still get time off. I can come back next summer.”

He raises his head to look at you and you can see all the hope and sadness in his puffy eyes. You want to kiss away the tear stains on his cheeks. You want to right everything wrong just to see him smile again. “Next summer?” he echoes in a small voice.

“Next summer,” you promise, a smile you hope is comforting on your lips.

Next summer doesn’t work out. The one after that either. Your internship is going swimmingly, and so is his assistantship, and you simply don’t have the time to make a trip all the way down there. A part of you is also worried that if you see him again, you won’t have the force to leave.

Those years you don’t see him, you’re reminded of the ten days you were apart during that summer, and how you’d felt like he’d kept a small piece of your heart with him, because it still feels that way. There’s something that’s keeping you tethered to that summer, something that the strongest scissors or the sharpest knife in the world couldn’t break.

For a short period of time, he was all you needed. But reality quickly seeped back in, and now you needed good grades and then a good job, a decent flat, a decent income. You didn’t need anyone like you needed him, but you still wanted them because even if they weren’t as pretty, or as patient, or as kind as your Sunghoon, they were still good, and sometimes that was all you could ask for. You were always sorry that you couldn’t give them your whole heart, because a piece of it had stayed in the south of France and you didn’t have the courage to march down there and demand it back. Selfishly, you hoped you also kept a piece of Sunghoon’s heart in yours.

You did call once in a while, but those calls made both of you more sad than happy, and after a couple years the calls were so spaced out that they only happened on birthdays and special events. The next time you see him, it’s five years later, at your grandmother’s funeral. You can only stay for three nights and you spend most of your time there with relatives, celebrating your grandmother’s life, so you don’t see him much. When you do, you get to catch up for a few hours. He’s almost done with vet school and he’s specialized in equine studies. He’s an intern at the horse vet in Laroque which means he gets to stay in the center and help his parents out. Yeji is on her way to becoming one of the best in the country, he adds with a proud smile. You’re finishing up your last years as an intern in a Paris hospital, but you haven’t changed your mind about becoming a general practitioner, which you need just a few more years of experience for. You don’t miss how his face falls slightly when you tell him you have a boyfriend and that you’re thinking of getting engaged to him. He tells you he’s happy for you with the saddest eyes. The hug he gives you when you have to leave brings back so many feelings and memories, and even after all these years there’s nothing more that you want to do than stay in his arms and never move again.

You break up with your boyfriend as soon as you get home.

On a random Thursday, you’re done with your decade-long studies, and you’re free to go out into the world, a medical diploma in hand. You get a job in a cabinet owned by a friend of your parents, and you like the job, but you know you’re just passing the time until the opportunity you’ve been waiting for comes around.

Every week, you check whether a spot opens up for a general practitioner in the small town of Laroque-des-Albères. It doesn’t for about eighteen months, until suddenly it does, and in a week you’re packing your bags and taking that trip you took twelve years ago.

Sunghoon doesn’t even know. He could be married with a wife and three kids, for all you know, and it’s foolish but you hope he’s been waiting for you. He’s just finishing up a health check on some of the older horses when you get out of your car, eyes finding him immediately. From the other side of the courtyard, he smiles at you, and it’s like the summer you first fell in love all over again.

permanent taglist: @ozymandia-s @bbujiikseu @sd211 @lalalalawon @sunghoonmybeloved @w3bqrl

#sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #sunghoon smut #enhypen smut #sunghoon fluff #enhypen fluff #sunghoon angst #enhypen angst #sunghoon au #enhypen au #sunghoon fanfiction #enhypen fanfiction

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wheeboo · 7 months

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psycho | wen junhui

SYNOPSIS. in which a new patient is assigned for treatment under your care, and you begin to put the puzzles and pieces together to a past case that you thought to have ceased away from your mind. PAIRING. wen junhui x psychologist!reader (ft. nurse!seokmin) GENRE. dark au, mystery, angst, a tiny tiny subtle pinch of fluff, my very first attempt at a psychological thriller :> WARNINGS. LOTS of descriptions and talks about fire, cursing, mentions of death, a mention of cigarettes, descriptions of scars + burns, descriptions of injuries from glass, mention of blood, reader has a small habit of scratching at their arms, jun makes a suggestive comment if you take it that way WORD COUNT. 12.8k

notes: this is for the caratsland event and probably the most complex plot i've tried to execute so far jsdlkfdfsdf. thank you to @slytherinshua for reading this over for me and being my lil confidence boost 💕 feedback would be much appreciated!! pls remember this is all fictional and not at all an accurate depiction of a psychiatric facility!!

another note: also this turned out to be rlly dialogue heavy and jun asks too many damn questions in this istg lmao

PRESENT DAY: 2023

"Dr. L/N, you have a new patient assigned to you in room 610."

You don't glance up from your desk. Instead, you finish reviewing the case notes of your previous patient and nod in acknowledgment to the nurse standing in your doorway, a friendly young man named Lee Seokmin who was a recent hire, as you were told. As you hear the drop of a patient file in front of you, you lean back in your chair and finally get yourself to look up.

"Thank you, Seokmin," You tell him with a soft smile.

Seokmin grins, teeth all-flashy and cheerful. "You're welcome, doctor," before dismissing himself back out of your office.

You turn your attention to the patient file now resting on your desk. As you start to read through the notes, you see it only contains some basic information about the patient: name, age, and a brief overview of their medical and psychiatric history. It's a starting point, but you know that the real work begins when you meet the person behind the paperwork.

"Name, Moon Jun... male, age 27..." You quietly study the file to yourself. The file mentions a history of severe emotional trauma and burn scars due to a fire, which immediately catches your attention in more ways than one. It also mentions extensive facial scarring and a history of therapy that completely lacked significant progress. A part of it is a familiar story in your field𑁋it isn't uncommon for individuals to experience setbacks in their recovery.

But there's something about this patient's history that tugs oddly at your heartstrings.

As you rummage deeper into the file, you come across a brief note from a colleague who had previously assessed Moon Jun, mentioning he had been withdrawn and non-communicative during his stay, displaying anti-social behaviour, sometimes even having random bursts of aggression when approached. You take a mental note of all this in your head.

Closing the patient file, you rise from your chair and adjust the white coat draped around you, before leaving your office. You make your way through the sterile, fluorescent-lit hallways of the psychiatric facility. The environment here is all-too familiar to you; you've spent years navigating these halls. With every door you pass, there hides a different story; a different struggle; a different battle.

Upon finally reaching the room, you hesitate outside the door for a moment. The anticipation and curiosity surrounding you mixes with a touch of uncertainty, almost like fear, as they often do when meeting a new patient. You've been doing this for nearly ten years, and the feeling isn't new.

Then as you come back to your senses, you lift a hand, give a gentle knock to the door, before entering the room. It's dimly lit inside, the curtains ominously drawn on the windows to conceal the sunlight peeking through. A figure sits at the edge of the bed, back turned to you, and the hood of his hoodie pulled low over his head worn over his patient gown.

"Moon... Jun?" You call out softly, trying not to startle him.

He doesn't respond immediately, shoulders tensing at the sound of your voice. After a moment of silence, he slowly turns his head to acknowledge your presence. Half of his face is obscured by a mask, leaving only his dark eyes visible.

"Doctor," he replies gravelly.

His gaze lingers on you as you take a seat in a chair that sat against the wall next to the bed, keeping a respectful distance from him. You've encountered many patients who have initially shown distrust or apprehension, but there's an intensity in the way he looks at you that sends something chilling on the surface of your skin, especially when it's the only part of his face that you can see.

You try to break the ice with a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Moon. My name is Dr. Y/N, and I'll be conducting our therapy sessions during your stay here. Please, make yourself as comfortable as you can."

He slowly nods, but his eyes never leave yours. The mask covering his face makes it difficult to read his expressions.

"Before we begin," You continue, clearing your throat. "I want you to know that this is a safe and confidential space. Our conversations are private, and I'm here to help you in any way I can𑁋to help you heal. You can share as much or as little as you're comfortable with."

You see the way his gloved hands clench together in his lap.

"I can't be healed," he mutters quietly, voice trembling as you sense the hopelessness in his tone. You've heard this phrase many times before during your career.

"I understand that you may feel that way right now," You reply, as soothingly as possible. "but I believe that with time and the right support, healing is possible for anyone. It's a journey, and I'm here to walk it with you. It's a process, and you don't have to go through it alone."

His gaze remains fixed on you, and the unsettling tension in the room lingers, almost palpable that you feel like there's an imaginary barrier between you and him that was enough for you to see this small part of him, while he can see all of you.

"Would you like to tell me a little bit about yourself? How do you feel coming here today?" You ask, hoping to begin the process of establishing some sort of connection.

He uncomfortably shifts a bit on the bed.

"I never wanted to come here," he says flatly. "They say this is a place of healing, but I've seen enough doctors like you. They prod and poke, dig into your past, and in the end, nothing changes. They don't know what I've been through, what I've seen. The scars, everything, they don't heal."

The words that leave his mouth are bitter and sour, yet you could only get yourself to nod sympathetically.

"It's not uncommon for people to feel that way, especially if they haven't found the right support. I want you to know that my approach is different. I'm here to listen, not to prod or poke." You glance down at the file in your hand and flip it over so that you couldn't see any information about him. "You're in control of our sessions, Mr. Moon. We can go at whatever pace you'd like."

He finally seems intrigued by this, leaning in ever so slightly, eyes devoid of colour that seemed to bore straight into yours.

"Control?" he repeats, voice still carrying a hint of skepticism.

You nod once more. "Yes, control. You get to decide what you want to talk about, what you're comfortable sharing, and at what pace. If there are topics you'd like to avoid or take your time with, that's completely okay. We can work together to create a safe space for you."

He seems to be taking in your words. "And... what if I choose not to talk at all?"

You offer a reassuring smile. "Then that's the option we can settle with."

The minutes that tick by seem dreadingly slow, and there's a light that dances in his eyes from the singular light fixture hanging above that almost resembles that of a flame. It doesn't go away even if he blinks, and it draws you in. Just a tiny bit.

"However, is there anything specific you'd like to share with me today, Mr. Moon?" You ask, trying to keep the conversation flowing. "Any thoughts or concerns you'd like to discuss?"

For a moment, it seems like he's about to speak, but then he shakes his head ever so slightly, his hooded gaze still locked onto yours.

"Very well then." You let out a very subtle, shaky breath. It felt almost relieving. Silence it is.

That's what most of the session has come to𑁋sitting in this peculiar silence, feeling his eyes burn a hole right through you. It isn't until the end of the hour that he calls out toward you just as you were about to his exit his room, and you turn back to face him.

"Can you heal me, doctor?" he asks quietly, almost begging in a way. It's unnerving.

All you do is give him a faint smile.

"I'll try my best, Mr. Moon."

FLASHBACK: 2013

"...All I could see were orange and red flames, and the smoke was hurting my eyes. I couldn't breathe𑁋just barely, but it hurt. It was painful. They were getting larger and larger and the screams louder and louder. Everything was gone."

"And what did you do while the fire kept growing?"

"I watched it all happen. I watched it all burn in front of me." The words had sent an eerie shiver up your spine, forcing the pen in your hands to stop mid-sentence. There was a singular pause that had come to follow, a harrowing silence that seemed to stretch into eternity, a subtle quiver in his voice that you barely caught. "There was nothing I could do."

You clicked your pen, its sound echoing in the tense silence. The room seemed to grow colder with each moment that passed.

"But it's all my fault, right?" he had asked, tone so innocent that it itches a part of your heart uncomfortably, but tugged in a way you felt determined to take root of the grief in his chest and rip it apart. And for a moment as you looked in his dark eyes, over his youthful features and guilt-ridden face, you felt that inkling feeling again. "I killed them. It's all my fault."

"None of this is your fault. Blaming yourself for something you couldn't control is a heavy burden to carry," You reassured him calmly, as gently as you could, knowing the power that your own words could cause for someone seemingly lost, troubled, and young. "You saved yourself. You're alive; you did what you could to survive, and you're here to heal. I'm here to help you heal, okay?"

Your reassurance was met with a fleeting smile, but it hadn't quite reach his eyes, yet his gaze peered directly into you as if searching for something in you𑁋you could only think it was hope. Hope that he wanted to heal just as much as you wanted to help him heal. It's your job. This was why you took this job in the first place.

You needed to save people, either from the demons in their minds or the traumas that haunted them. This boy had lost his entire family in a housefire, for God's sake. This was your duty.

"It's not my fault," he had said, and met your eyes, as if searching for approval. "It's not my fault."

"That's right, Hui." You offered him a faint, assuring smile. "It's not your fault."

PRESENT DAY: 2023

"Excuse me, Dr. L/N? Is it okay if I sit here?"

You glance up to see Seokmin holding up a tray of lunch food, returning you from your zoning thoughts. You shoot him a kind smile and a nod, motioning to the empty space across from you for him to have a seat. Usually, you frequently have lunch alone in the comfort of your office where you can tend to yourself in solitude, but today, you might as well welcome the company.

Seokmin sets his tray down and takes a seat, and for some minutes, there's a comfortable silence as you both begin to eat. He seems to notice the tired lines to your face, but he doesn't press on about it.

"Have you been settling in well?" You ask him suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Huh, me? Oh." He's a bit taken aback, cheeks flushed, and you give a soft chuckle. "You could say that. I wanted to try something new after working bedside for the longest time. I didn't think that psych would be a field I was interested in𑁋look where I am now, though."

"That's the thing about this field." You let out a sigh, giving a knowing smile. "It has a way of drawing you in, even if you didn't plan on it."

"It was definitely an experience when I was in nursing school," Seokmin comments eagerly. You felt as if you were talking to a close friend rather than another colleague, and it feels rather refreshing. "and doing ICU was already draining of itself."

You take a sip of your drink, nodding your head. "I can only imagine. It can be quite rigorous."

Seokmin lets his gaze wander over you curiously. "How long have you worked here, doctor?"

"Please, you can just call me Y/N. Unless we're working."

Seokmin smiles. "How long have you worked here then, Y/N?"

You pause for a moment. Thinking about the amount of years you've worked in this field hasn't been a particular thought to come up𑁋time just seems to fly by when it's the only job you've been dedicated to for most of your life.

"Hm, ten years now? I believe this month will mark my ten years here."

Seokmin's eyes visibly widen in awe before responding, "Wow, that's... You must have really seen a lot of things. I really envy you, doctor."

Your smile fades just a bit; it's barely noticeable, though you still hope that Seokmin doesn't see it. You can feel that feeling gnaw at your skin again, something inexplicable, like a sense of foreboding that seemed to be creaking open a door you believed to have firmly shut for good.

But you choose to push it aside, just like you always do, dismissing it perfectly with a mutter of a thank you. It's ironic, considering this is what you do𑁋normally you would tell patients to confront their past and face their fears, but when it comes to your own, you tend to bury them.

There's an itch that crawls up your arms, and you knead at it through your sleeves with your fingers.

Maybe you can get used to this company, though.

"Do you have any kids, doctor?"

The question comes after a click of your pen, and you glance up from the vitals sheet in your hand to see Moon Jun sitting criss-crossed on the bed, gloved hands sitting on his lap and pupils peering curiously over you.

"No, Mr. Moon," You reply, keeping your tone soft, somewhat nonchalant. "I don't have any children."

He tilts his head slightly, almost as if he's studying you like a specimen under a microscope. The mask on his face makes him appear even more enigmatic, his dark, even charming eyes the only feature you can discern.

"No family at all?" he asks. "No husband, wife, or children to go home to?"

"I live alone. My work keeps me quite occupied."

Some silence passes.

"Alone," he repeats, almost to himself, as if savouring the word in his mouth. "Don't you ever feel... lonely though?"

His question hangs in the air like a dark cloud. It's an oddly personal inquiry, but you decide to address it professionally. "Loneliness is a feeling that many people experience at different points in their lives. It's a normal human emotion, and it's something we can work through."

His gaze narrows, and his gloved fingers twitch in his lap. His mask conceals most of his facial expressions, but you can sense an intensity in his gaze.

"I've felt lonely my entire life, you know," he points out as you sit yourself down in the chair in front of him just like all your previous sessions. Despite the considerable space between you two, sometimes you swear you can feel him breathing right down your neck. "Even being in here too, it.... feels like a different kind of loneliness. A place where they put people who are broken. Like me."

"I can assure you that you are not broken, Mr. Moon," You tell him reassuringly. "How are you with meeting the other patients here? Are there any you have been interacting with since our last session?"

He leans back slightly, his gloved hands still resting on his lap, and his gaze seems to drift momentarily as if he's recalling something.

"I think... they are scared of me, to be honest," he answers, eyes crinkling just slightly as if there was a smile playing on his lips right below his mask. "But... perhaps they're all just lost, confused, and weak. They pretend to get better, but they're just putting on a show. It's a bit pathetic, don't you think?"

"It's not uncommon for people in this environment to have their guard up," You tell him. "Sometimes, it's just a reaction to the unfamiliar. Everyone here is dealing with their own battles, just as you are, Mr. Moon."

He chuckles lowly at that. It's the first time you've heard such a sound like that leave his mouth, like a dissonant note echoing in an otherwise quiet room. His masked face gives nothing away.

"Maybe it's because of this stupid mask on my face," he says, touching the mask with the tips of his fingers. "It makes me look like a criminal or a monster."

"The mask might be intimidating to some," You acknowledge, crossing your arms together. "but it doesn't define who you are."

His eyes narrow slightly, though there's that twinge of amusement as he crosses his arms together, mirroring your body language.

"You're not scared of me, right, doctor?"

You meet his steady gaze, his own searching yours from behind the mask. There's a moment of silence, something unspoken lingering in the air.

"No, Mr. Moon, I'm not scared of you," You respond, keeping yourself composed. "I'm here to understand you."

He leans back, that hint of amusement still present on his face.

"I think you would make a great parent, doctor."

The unexpected compliment catches you off-guard for a moment, making you briefly at a loss for words. There's a slight blush that crawls up your cheeks, and you clear your throat, trying to regain your composure.

"Thank you." You give an appreciative smile. "That's very kind of you to say."

You see that flickering flame in his pupils again. It's a fire that seems to burn brighter with each passing minute, and it leaves you both intrigued and uneasy.

FLASHBACK: 2013

"I told you not to call me that!" Hui exclaimed angrily in frustration, his face turning a shade of red as he glared at you. The sudden outburst had caught you off-guard, and for a moment, found yourself at a loss for words. His face contorted with volatile frustration, and his hands clenched into fists.

"I apologise," You said calmly, doing your best to defuse the situation. "I didn't mean to upset you. What would you like me to call you then?"

He took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm himself down. His shoulders slumped, and his expression softened slightly.

"Just call me by my nickname, okay?" he urged, voice a tad less sharp now, but it's still enough to pierce. "Hui is fine. I hate my name! It's ugly. I want to forget about it𑁋I want everyone to forget about it! That name doesn't exist anymore, got it?"

"Of course, I understand." You leaned back forward in your chair, slow and cautiously. "But I want you to tell me why you stole crayons from Chaewon earlier in the rec room."

Hui only scoffed in response. "It's not that big of a deal. I only took a few from her. She'll forget about it."

"You took something from someone else without permission, Hui," You explained matter-of-factly. "That's a violation of their personal space and boundaries."

Hui's focus darted around the room for a moment, lips pursed and fingers messing around with the frays of his hospital gown. Then his gaze hardened once more as he landed back on you. His silence was almost unsettling as it stretched between you, but you remained patient, waiting for him to offer an explanation.

"Fine, whatever," he muttered, finally relenting. "I wanted them for a project I'm working on, that's all."

"A project? What kind of project?"

"Back in group therapy... They wanted us to create something meaningful or something𑁋something that means a lot to us, and I needed the crayons for it. So I took them from her."

It took a couple of moments before you nodded, acknowledging his explanation. "I see, Hui. It's important to express yourself through art or projects, but it's also important to respect others' belongings. Try asking for what you need instead of taking it without permission, okay?"

Hui's response was a simple, noncommittal nod, eyes holding onto yours a moment too long.

"Now, the next time you're back in the rec room, please say sorry to Chaewon whenever you see her, okay?"

Again, all he did was nod begrudgingly, his expression showing a hint of reluctance.

"Good." You gave him a proud smile. "That's all for today. Tell me about your project next session, alright?"

You felt his eyes on you as you grabbed your case notes and stood up, before leaving him in his room. And even though you were out of his room, you swore you could still feel the weight of his gaze on you.

PRESENT DAY: 2023

You find Moon Jun sitting on the edge of the bed once entering inside of his room, gloved hands folded neatly in his lap. The mask obscures his face as usual, but his dark eyes lock onto yours the moment you walk inside. The dim lighting in the room casts long shadows on the walls, and you find yourself drawn into those shadows as you take a seat across from him.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Moon," You greet warmly, taking your usual seat across from him. "How has your day been so far?"

He doesn't immediately respond. There's a hint of curiosity in his hooded eyes, but it's devoid of warmth. It's subtle, almost imperceptible, but you've learned to pay attention to the smallest details when dealing with patients over the years. It still sends a shiver down your spine.

"Just been like any other day in this place," he finally replies coolly.

You offer a polite smile and proceed with the session. "Is there anything specific you'd like to discuss for today's session, Mr. Moon?"

He thinks for a moment, tapping his gloved fingers lightly against his knee. The rhythmic sound seems to echo in the room.

"Are you interested in mythology, doctor?" he asks, and the question was certainly something you didn't expect him to ask. He continues, "I've always had an interest in it growing up, so I was wondering if you did too."

You chuckle quietly. "I wish I could say the same, but... I guess I found it intriguing at times."

"Surely you must have heard some stories though." He giggles at this, unclasping his hands together and propping himself right at the edge of the bed so that he's leaning forward, his masked face closer to yours. The dim light makes it hard to see his features clearly, and the shadows in the room seem to grow darker, more pronounced. "Are you familiar with the creature, the phoenix?"

You pause for a moment to think, before giving a slow, careful nod. "I've... definitely heard of it."

"The phoenix," he murmurs, voice a soft, hypnotic cadence. "It's a beautiful creature of rebirth and fire, isn't it?"

The mention of fire makes you shift slightly in your seat.

"Mr. Moon, I'm not entirely sure where you're𑁋"

You're interrupted as he leans even closer, his masked face now mere inches from yours, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intense and unsettling focus. The shadows play tricks on your vision, making it feel like the walls are closing in on you.

"I just find it fascinating," he continues. "The idea of burning away the old and rising from the ashes anew. It's like a fresh start, a chance to be reborn. Do you believe in second chances, doctor?"

You swallow the lump in your throat. His intense gaze, shrouded by the mask, seems to hold you almost captive and confined to the chair you sat on, and his words seem to echo in the confined space.

"I... I believe that everyone deserves a chance to heal and grow, Mr. Moon," You respond carefully, trying to regain your composure. "But it's also important to work through the past before embracing the future."

He tilts his head slightly, as if considering your words. The room remains eerily quiet, the shadows deepening around you.

"Do you believe people can truly change?" he asks, voice softer now, almost pleading.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his question sitting right on your chest.

"I believe that change is possible, Mr. Moon," You reply gently, choosing your words with care. "People have the capacity to grow and evolve, and to make choices that lead to a more positive outlook. But this varies from person to person𑁋if they are willing to put in the effort to do so."

For a moment, the tension in the room seems to dissipate slightly. The shadows on the walls appear to retreat, and the dim light feels less suffocating.

"Doctor," he finally speaks, voice low despite only being the two of you in the room, like he's telling you a secret. "what if... those flames of the past have burned too brightly, leaving nothing but ashes behind?"

You furrow your brows. "I-I would say𑁋"

"It's what happened to me, doctor, don't you understand?" he snaps suddenly, standing up from the bed to step closer to you. "You can't possibly understand what it's like to fucking lose everything, to watch it all burn in front of your fucking eyes! This is why I did this𑁋I put my life into the phoenix. I burned what was left of me, and now I'm here, in this absolute hellhole."

"Mr. Moon, I need you to calm down, please𑁋"

There's a flash of anger that shoots through his eyes, the flame burning in his pupils brighter than before. The atmosphere grows tense in the snap of a finger, and you instinctively stand up to bring yourself in the direction of the door to the room, maintaining a safe distance, acutely aware of the limited space and the fact that you're alone with him. There's an emergency button within reach where you can call for help whenever needed.

You can't get yourself to respond, feeling frozen from the way you can feel your heart pounding anxiously in your chest from his close proximity. He takes a step back, his hands trembling slightly as he clenches and unclenches them. The room seems to regain a semblance of normalcy, but the tension still lingers in the air, and you still can't move.

You watch as he cowers back towards the bed, leaving you standing next to the door. You felt as if you've been holding your breath, like you were submerged underwater and your fight or flight instincts were kicking in.

"You won't give up on me, right, doctor?" he asks, and the way he says it so weakly, naively, makes your head spin. "You can trust me, right?"

You smooth out your white coat, placing yourself back down in the seat across from him anticipatingly.

"I... I trust you," You mutter meekly. "I won't give up on you."

The corner of his eyes crinkle again. He's smiling. You can see it through the mask.

"How lovely," he states sweetly. "We're on the right track, then."

"Y/N𑁋I mean Dr. L/N, are you okay?" Seokmin's voice comes up from behind as you walk yourself towards your office, feeling completely and utterly scatterbrained from the events of the past hour.

As Seokmin's voice reaches your ears, you take a deep breath to steady yourself. You turn to Seokmin and offer him a reassuring smile, though it doesn't quite reach your eyes, but seeing him in front of you already makes you feel a tad bit better.

"I'm fine, Seokmin, thank you." Your voice carries a hint of exhaustion and residual unease. "Just a challenging session, but I'm okay."

Seokmin just nods, but as you were about to turn around, he says, "If you... uh, ever need someone to talk to or anything, just know I'm here for you, okay? It can be tough, I've heard."

You smile gratefully at him, this time genuinely reaching your eyes. It feels like a breath of fresh air talking to him.

"Thank you," You tell him. "I might just have to take you up on that someday."

Seokmin scratches the back of his neck shyly and returns your smile with a warm one of his own. "Well, you know where to find me."

You stand still for a moment as Seokmin begins to dismiss himself away to resume his rounds, but just then, you feel a sudden idea pop up in your head.

"Seokmin, wait!" You exclaim after the man, who immediately turns around to the sound of your voice, peering at you worriedly. "Actually, there's something... Could you do me a favour?"

His eyes light up curiously. "Sure, what do you want me to do?"

You step up closer to him, looking around to ensure no one else was listening in.

"Can you help find me more information about the patient in 610?" You lean in, lowering your voice to a hushed tone. "I'd like to know more about his background, more than what's in his file right now, or just anything that might help me understand him better."

Seokmin raises a brow briefly but nods either way. "I'll see what I can do, Dr. L/N."

FLASHBACK: 2013

The rec room was buzzing with activity as you entered, giving a chance for patients to interact with others and engage in activities outside of their rooms. Laughter, conversation, and the occasional burst of youthful energy filled the air; it’s a striking comparison to the somber atmosphere of the individual therapy sessions you usually conducted.

As you glanced around to find Hui, you finally caught sight of the boy sitting alone at a table in the very corner of the room. He appeared seemingly engrossed on the piece of paper in front of him, an array of crayons sat on the table. His focus was so intense that he seemed completely oblivious to the world around him.

You approached Hui's table with a gentle smile. "Hui, how are you doing today?"

Hui looked up from his drawing, eyes meeting yours briefly. "I'm fine," he replied coldly. "Just drawing."

You glanced down at his artwork, which depicted a scene of fire and destruction. The flames consumed a house, while stick-figure people screamed in the windows, their tiny, distorted faces twisted in agony. The only colours there would be that of the orange and red gigantic flame that enveloped the jagged, blackened lines of the house.

"That's... quite a powerful drawing, Hui," You commented as you took a seat right next to him. "What made you choose this subject?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, eyes not leaving his paper. "It's just what I felt like drawing."

"Is this supposed to represent what happened to your family?"

Hui only continued to mindlessly colour his drawing, his crayon moving across the paper with deliberate strokes.

"Maybe," he replied stoically. "I saw it all happen, but I couldn't do anything."

You studied Hui's face for a moment, but his expression remained blank, his focus entirely on the drawing. His mien was calm, almost eerily so, in comparison to the disturbing scene of destruction right below his fingertips.

"Can you tell me more about what you saw, Hui?" You asked him.

He glanced at you briefly, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something in his eyes. But it was gone so quickly that you couldn't be sure if you had imagined it.

"I already told you," he pressed. "I saw the fire, and I watched everything burn. It wasn't my fault that it happened."

You nodded, acknowledging his words, and continued to watch him work on the drawing.

"Did you ever feel sad about what happened, Hui?" You questioned.

Hui's face only remained impassive as he answered, "It won't change anything."

You could only think about all the trauma he must have endured𑁋from losing his family and being the sole survivor of such a ruinous event, to having to deal with all the emotions at once that it must feel almost numbing inside of him.

"Did anyone help you during or after the fire, Hui?" You prodded calmly.

He still didn't look up from his drawing. "Some firefighters came, and they put out the fire. But they couldn't save my family."

You felt that pang of sympathy for Hui as he mentioned the firefighters' futile attempts to save his family all while he was waiting right outside the house. It was clear that the traumatic experience had locked his emotions away behind a stoic, desensitized façade.

"I'm sorry to hear about your family, Hui," You said softly. "It's completely okay to feel sad or angry about what happened."

Hui's hand paused briefly in its colouring, but he didn't look up. You glanced down to the paper, noticing that he was drawing something in the corner, almost appearing like some sort of bird, like some sort of crow or cardinal.

"I don't feel much about it anymore. It's just the way things are."

Your eyes drift from his drawing, concern deepening, but you understood that emotional numbing was a common coping mechanism for trauma survivors. In a way, it's like a protective shell around oneself to prevent further pain. The emotional scars ran deep, and sometimes, it was easier for them to keep their feelings at bay rather than confront the overwhelming grief and sorrow that lurked beneath the surface.

That is what you attributed with Hui𑁋what you always had when he first came here. And you promised him patience and that it took time to fully heal.

"I'll leave you be now, okay?" You stood up from the seat, giving the young boy a reassuring squeeze to the shoulder.

Hui doesn't respond, still engrossed in his drawing. You took a step back, leaving him to his artwork, and decided to check on some of the other children in the room for the time being.

You swore you could feel his eyes on you as you walked away.

PRESENT DAY: 2023

Your eyes are practically lasering holes right through the manila folder of Moon Jun's file.

The file only houses the basics𑁋his medical history, therapy notes, and observations from the staff. But there's something missing, something you can't quite put your finger on. His background information is limited, and there are no records of any family members or relatives listed. It's as if he appeared out of nowhere.

A knock on your office door makes you jump, and you quickly open your eyes to see Seokmin standing there with a stack of papers in his hands, concern etched on his face.

"Sorry, did I startle you?" he asks, stepping inside your office.

You offer a tired smile. "A bit, but it's okay. Come in."

Seokmin walks further into your office, closing the door lightly behind him. He takes a moment to study your expression, clearly noticing the exhaustion and frustration on your face. You let out a sigh and lean back in your chair, rubbing your temples with your fingertips as Seokmin sits down right across from you.

"So, I tried to do some digging, as you asked." Seokmin places the stack of papers on the desk. "It wasn't easy to look into his medical history, but I think this might be important."

You straighten up in your chair, your exhaustion momentarily forgotten as you lean in to examine the stack of papers Seokmin has brought. However, what you expected is to see information regarding him, but instead, you see news reports.

"I... I don't know if any of these can be related, but I found a few unsolved cases of arson over the years. It might be the cause of his facial scarring," Seokmin explains. "I think one of them happened at an orphanage, another at an abandoned warehouse nearby, and another at a small church a few miles from here."

You carefully pick up one of the articles and start to read the details. The article mentions a fire at an orphanage several years ago that resulted in the tragic loss of lives. The incident remained unsolved, with no clear cause identified. Then you come across another article about the fire at the warehouse, and it, too, was a case that had perplexed investigators, leaving it unsolved.

"...and I also think there was one about a family from around... nine? Ten years ago? I didn't read all the details of it, but I believe only one survived𑁋"

That's when you feel your heart drop all the way down to the ground, into the ground at that point, eyes widening as the gasp that leaves your mouth cuts Seokmin off. You're already standing up, fingers trembling, as you frantically shuffle through the articles he had provided for you.

"Where can I find that one? Is it here?"

Your adamancy surprises Seokmin as he scrambles through the papers before taking one out and offering it to you. You take the article from his hands. The paper is slightly crumpled, and the ink is faded, but the headline is still clear: "Family Tragedy Claims Lives, Sole Survivor Emerges."

The only survivor was a teenage boy, whose name was redacted from the article for privacy.

But you know exactly who it is.

The article describes how he had been found by the firefighters, huddled on the lawn outside the burning house, his eyes blank with shock. Authorities had attempted to investigate, but the case quickly went cold due to lack of evidence. It also mentions that the boy had lost his entire family that night and was assumed to be too traumatised to provide any coherent information about the fire's cause, which later caused him to be sent to a psychiatric facility due to the trauma.

"Doctor, what is this?" Seokmin interrupts your thoughts as he brings up another paper from view.

You glance up from the article to meet Seokmin's gaze, the urgency in his eyes mirroring your own. He unfolds it carefully, and as your eyes scan the headline, your heart sinks further: "Tragic Fire Engulfs Local Psychiatric Facility."

As you read through it, you swear you feel the same flames dancing up the skin of your arms. This article reports a fire that occurred exactly ten years ago at the very psychiatric facility where both you and Seokmin currently work. You were there that night. It was only your first year as a psychologist at the facility, still learning the ropes of your profession. The memories you've long tried to suppress come flooding back.

The sound of alarms blaring, the acrid smell of smoke, the frantic efforts to evacuate patients, and the feeling of utter helplessness as the flames consumed parts of the facility. It had left scars on your soul, scars you thought you had buried deep over the years.

That boy was one of your first ever patients.

Your arms are itching again, and you can almost feel the searing heat from that night a decade ago.

"Y/N, are you... are you okay?" Seokmin asks. You can see the worry in his eyes, but you're not sure if you can answer his question.

You swallow hard, your throat dry as you try to find your voice. "Yeah, I just... Sorry, reading this article, and..."

That's when Seokmin gets it. "Were you..." His eyes lower down to where one of your hands is clawing anxiously at the sleeves of your arm, and he immediately takes away the article from view. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up. I didn't know you were..."

You manage a weak smile as you bring your arms back down to your side, hugging yourself instead. "It's alright. You didn't know."

Seokmin doesn't seem entirely convinced, for a moment feeling stuck on what to say. "Are you sure that you're up for this? We can always𑁋"

"Yes," You say boldly. "It'll be okay."

You take a deep breath.

"I'll be okay."

"You seem troubled today, doctor."

In the dimly lit room, Moon Jun's observation is shrewd as always, whose calculating eyes seem to analyse every twitch of your expression as you both sit in the room together, right across from each other, with him hovering over you while you felt feeling like a cowering mouse trapped in a cage.

You flash him a faint, grateful smile. "I appreciate your concern, but let's focus back on you now, shall we?"

"Uh-uh, doctor," he taunts, crossing his arms together and shaking his head dismissively. Even in the darkness of the room, you swear you see his lips curl into a smirk under that damn mask of his. "If I'm not mistaken, you said at the very beginning that I have control over what I want to talk about in our sessions. I realise I hardly know anything about you! Isn't that funny? I consider you a dear friend, you know. You're the only person in this place who even makes the effort to talk with me."

The weight of his words suspend like a dense fog. You can hear the faint hum of the ventilation system, see the way the lone light fixture in the room seems to flicker intermittently. It plays tricks on your perception, making his features appear to morph and shift, all while his eyes are practically dissecting you.

"Friendship... is built on trust," You reply cautiously. "But our sessions are designed for your benefit. My role here is to help you, not the other way around, and my personal life is not relevant for this."

He leans in closer, his eyes never leaving yours, and you can feel his intense focus like a physical weight. You're caught in the gravitational pull of his eyes, his relentless gaze that seems to strip away your defenses. "But, doctor, how can you truly help me if you don't open up a little?"

He tilts his head, the mask inches away from your face, his eyes boring into yours.

"We could be more than what we are right now, couldn't we, doctor?" he whispers, feeling his cold breath against your skin even through the mask, and you close your eyes. "I could make you feel things you've never felt before𑁋"

"Stop! Please!" You yell out unexpectedly, hearing nothing but the unsteadiness of your breaths and the echo of your own voice in the dim room. Your eyes snap back open; he's not hovering over you, and the disturbing scenario you had just experienced was nothing more than a figment of your imagination.

Instead, Moon Jun is calmly seated away from you, watching you intently from the bed. There's a curious glint in his eyes, one that suggests he's found your reaction to be rather... entertaining.

"Doctor, you do seem to be quite troubled today," he remarks almost playfully, voice dripping with amusement that shoots goosebumps up your skin. "Seeing things, aren't we?"

You can't quite find the words to respond, and the sensation of his cold breath against your skin still lingers in your memory.

"You must think about me a lot, day and night possibly, if you imagine such things," he teases, and you feel the way his words crawl under your skin. "You probably wonder what lies behind this mask of mine, don't you? You're a special friend𑁋perhaps you deserve to see it."

You watch the way his gloved fingers toy with the edges of his mask, and for a moment, it seems like he's contemplating something. The room is so silent that you can hear your own heart pounding in your chest.

Then without warning, he reaches up and slowly starts to peel off the mask, revealing the face hidden beneath. Your breath catches in your throat as his visage is unveiled.

His face is tainted by a network of scars, the skin tissue looking raw and discoloured. The scars extend from his jawline up to his cheeks and forehead, giving his face an almost grotesque and nightmarish appearance. Some scars look like they were caused by something sharp, while others appear more like burns. There were also some that seemed almost... fresher than others. His lips, once hidden by the mask, are twisted into a smirk that sends shivers down your spine.

"You wanted to see, didn't you, doctor?" he asks, voice low and taunting. "You wanted to know what's behind this mask."

You can't tear your gaze away from his disfigured face, and you're overwhelmed by a mix of curiosity, horror, and a strange fascination.

"Are you surprised, doctor?" he continues, voice now tinged with mockery. "Do I look like a monster to you?"

You can't seem to respond just yet, eyes still peering over him as if trying to discern the features of his face. There's this wave of familiarity that seems to hit you, as if you've seen those certain details before. A nagging feeling tugs at the corners of your memory like a half-forgotten dream.

You squint, trying to connect the dots between the disfigured face before you and the dim recollection buried deep within your mind. The way the scars twist and curl, the faint traces of burn marks𑁋it's all so eerily and hauntingly familiar. You swear you've seen those eyes before. He watches your expression closely, as if he can read your thoughts, and those eyes that seem to follow your every move, your every thought𑁋

And then it hits you. It hits you like a freight train on the tracks that was beyond avoidable. It hits you like a tidal wave crashing against the shore of your conscience, leaving wreckage to be abandoned and forgotten forever in its wake. It hits you like a thunderstorm tearing apart a peaceful, sunny day.

"Hui...?" is all you manage to choke out.

Images from the past flash before your eyes𑁋Hui, the young boy you once knew, whose face was marked with troubled innocence and a haunting vulnerability that had drawn you to him in the first place. You had watched him grow, had nurtured the fragile trust he had placed in you. You recall your early sessions together, hearing all the painful details of the fire that had torn his life apart.

His smirk deepens, and his eyes gleam with an uncanny satisfaction.

"Hui died ten years ago, doctor," he says with a cold, haunting certainty. "He died in that same fire that set this place ablaze. I'm sure you remember that very well, don't you?"

The room seems to close in on you, and the memories of that fateful night come rushing back like a torrential downpour. The fire, the chaos, the screams. It had been a nightmarish scene, etched into your memory like the faint scars that plague your arms from that very night.

But before you could respond, you felt something vibrate in your pocket. It's the end of your session.

FLASHBACK: 2013

The fire alarm rang.

It was blaringly loud, completely jolting you out of your chair in the silence that carried through your office. Your heart raced as the panic had begun to sink in, the blood-red light of the alarm painted the muted colours of your office walls with a surreal, macabre-like glow, and the acrid scent of smoke was beginning to fill your lungs.

You reached for the door handle, but your trembling hands fumbled, and it wouldn't budge. You tried again and again, the cold sweat on your palms making it even more difficult to grip.

"Wh-What the hell?" You shakily muttered to yourself, before bringing your fists up to pound on the door. "Hello? Someone help me! I'm in here! Someone!"

The panic intensified as the fire alarm continued its relentless wail as you continued to pound on the door. Smoke started to seep in from the edges of your office door, and you could feel the heat of the flames approaching. You coughed, choking on the sharp fumes that stung your throat. It felt like the walls were closing in on you. Fuck, fuck, what do you do? How the hell was the fire spreading so fast?

You were trapped. You were going to die.

The windows! You remembered the windows. Desperation drove you to the large window on the wall. Instinctively, you grabbed a chair and used it to break it, the sound of shattering glass ringing in your ears, the shards grazing against your skin and the palm of your hands, making you let out a sharp gasp. Blood trickled from the cuts on your hands, and as you peered down to the ground below, you realised that you were too high above the ground for a safe jump.

The fire was only getting closer and closer.

As you hesitated by the shattered window, a muffled voice from the hallway reached your ears. "Is anyone in there? We're trying to get you out!"

Your eyes widened as you stumbled back to the door. "I'm in here! Please help!"

"Step back! We're breaking down the door!"

You stepped back from the window as much as you could and away from the smoke, feeling the flames inching closer. Your vision blurred as you fought to breathe, eyes stinging with tears from the dry air.

Moments later, a loud crash resounded through the room as the door burst open. A group of firefighters rushed in, their protective gear making them look like otherworldly figures emerging from the haze. They quickly located you, wrapped you in a fire-resistant blanket, and led you to safety.

Once you were outside, an emergency medical team checked you over for any injuries, plastered up your arms, and administered oxygen. You were shaken, bruised, and suffering from smoke inhalation, but you were alive. Somehow. In some way.

Then, you found your mind drifting back to Hui. Did he manage to get out safely? Where was he? Questions swirled in your mind as you watched the firefighters work tirelessly to contain the blaze. God, he must not be in the right state of mind after witnessing yet another fire himself.

"Excuse me..." You weakly called out to a paramedic, voice barely a whisper.

The paramedic turned to you, concern etched on their face beneath their protective gear. "Yes, are you okay?"

You swallowed hard, barely getting your words together. "I was in there... in the building. I have some patients... uh... Do you know if they made it out? I need to know if they're safe."

The paramedic exchanged a glance with another passing colleague, eyes hidden behind their mask, before returning back to you and shaking their head.

"We're still searching for survivors and dealing with the fire," they explained. "We can't give you any information right now. I'm truly sorry. I'll let them know to keep a lookout. Can you describe them for me?"

You described what your other patients and what Hui looked like as much as you could, and the emergency worker took down all the information before walking away to tend to others.

The silence that followed was suffocating, perhaps even more than what you endured inside the building, and you found it difficult to hold back tears of frustration from flowing down your face.

As the smoke gradually dissipated and the flames were brought under control, the once-deafening alarm was reduced to sporadic chirps and the occasional distant rumble of falling debris. The scene around you was one of destruction, merely charred remains of a place that was filled with hope and healing.

You glanced down at your trembling, injured hands and arms and see the cuts from the shattered window, yet the physical pain was nothing compared to the anguish in your heart, and the fear and guilt that gnawed at you. You lost patients whom you had sworn to protect, had sworn𑁋no, promised to heal.

It was only when the search and rescue teams began to wind down their efforts that you realised the search for Hui had come with no results. All of your other patients were safe, but him. There was no sign of him anywhere, as if he slipped off the face of the earth.

A firefighter approached you some time later, his face covered in soot appearing both exhausted and empathetic.

"I'm sorry," he spoke, voice heavy with regret and defeat. "We've searched every area we could access, but we haven't found anyone else. The fire was intense, and... I'm truly sorry."

His words hit you like a hammer blow, and you felt your heart sink even further. You had dedicated your life to saving others, and yet it seemed that you might have failed to save one.

"Thank... Thank you for trying," You mumbled to the firefighter, nodding in acknowledgement. "And thank you for risking your lives to save us."

PRESENT DAY: 2023

The clouds outside obscure any hints of sunlight, and the overcast sky casts a sad, grey hue over the world outside. The room feels dim and lonely despite the overhead lights. You try to ignore that particular gnawing feeling to your skin as you sit at your desk, waiting for your next session with Moon Jun to start. It'll happen anytime now𑁋perhaps the more you anticipate will make time go by slower.

However your thoughts are interrupted by the soft knock at your door, and you look up to see Seokmin standing there. He offers you a warm smile as you motion for him to come inside, and you swear you see small ray of sunshine break through the clouds outside at the corner of your eye.

"Hey, how're you holding up?" he asks. "I wanted to check up on you."

You tilt your head a bit giddily at the sight of him. "We just had lunch break together, Seokmin."

He rolls his eyes at this, scratching the back of his neck bashfully. "I know, I know, but I... Well, is there a rule here that says I can't see you twice in one day when we're not working?"

Your lips purse together thoughtfully. "I guess not."

"Good." He grins, but it's quick to fade once he takes another look at you. "so... how have you been?"

The soft concern in Seokmin's voice is almost like a comforting hug for your ragged nerves. Normally it's your duty to ask your patients those kinds of questions, not the other way around. You offer him a tired but appreciative smile as he settles into the chair across from your desk. It's a rare moment when the roles are reversed, even if it's just for one short minute.

"You look tired," Seokmin points out, and it makes you let out a chuckle, even though it's tinged with weariness.

"You have a good eye, Seokmin," You reply playfully, and he blushes at this. "Do you want to know what I've been dreaming about the past few weeks?

Seokmin thinks about it for a second, then his eyes widen slightly.

"Is it... the fire?" he queries, hoping there's that small chance he might be wrong.

Your steady gaze meets his.

"Yes," You admit casually. "It's always the fire."

Or specifically, it's the fire and the guilt that you weren't able to save anyone, and it had been eating away at you ever since that fateful day.

His face softens at this, then he feels himself hesitate for a brief moment, before slowly reaching out to place his hand over yours on the desk. His touch is warm and reassuring, and you can feel the genuine concern in his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry you have to go through that, I wish there was a way I could... you know, stop you from reliving those kinds of things." His words make your lips twitch upwards, and he knows he's done something right. He finishes your smile with one of his own. "But... you're not alone in this. Just know I'm here."

"You've been helping me this entire time, Seokmin," You assure him. "If anything, I should be the one thanking you."

The weight of all the memories and unhealed scars left behind still cling to you like shadows. But in the presence of Seokmin, the burdens seem a little lighter, the darkness a bit less suffocating. The room seems a bit less lonely as you both sit there, just like all the days you eat lunch together where you seem to look forward to seeing him sit with you, and the sound of the clock ticking on the wall serves as a reminder that time keeps moving forward.

Before you know it, it's as if you've been struck by a gong that you could only hear, and you knew it was time to move forward with your session. You take your hand away from Seokmin as you stand up, and he follows suit.

"Y/N, wait, um..." Seokmin stops you before you could leave, and you turn back to him. "If something bad happens, or if you need anything, don't hesitate to reach out to me, even outside of work. I... want to make sure you're okay."

His words warm your heart, and you shoot him a thankful look.

"I know I can," You say, while opening the door to the outside of your office. "Thank you, Seokmin."

When you enter inside room 610, you spot Moon Jun sitting on the chair that you were supposed to sit in, his posture relaxed and arms crossed almost impatiently. He didn't wear the mask on his face, and he appeared confident, somewhat smug. It was the only other chair in the room. The other place for you to sit would be... the bed. This isn't how a typical therapy session begins.

"Doctor, I was just thinking about you!" he exclaims excitedly. "Please, go ahead and sit down on the bed. I thought it would be great to change things up a little. You wouldn't mind, would you?"

You hesitate for a moment, glancing between him and the bed. Maintaining your professionalism, you make your way to the bed and sit down, folding your hands in your lap. Something brushes against your leg for a moment, you look down to see a sheet of paper sitting next to you, and a plethora of crayons resting on top.

"Please bare with me for the mess, I was busy drawing before you came in," he tells you, voice almost cheery and... delighted?

As you sit on the bed, his demeanour only raises more questions than answers. He appears unusually relaxed, and his eagerness is disturbing. It's unlike him.

"Of course, that's fine with me," You tell him casually.

There's a grin that spreads across his scarred face, and it brings an uncomfortable twist to your stomach, but you don't let it show, though at this point you feel that he can sense your nervousness, your unease, knowing there's history between you two you thought to have burned away in the back of your mind.

Yet it had all come back just like his reemergence back into your life𑁋into something more sinister.

"He talks to me sometimes, even though he's perished in the flames," Jun begins, grabbing the paper right next to you. "You remember his drawings, right? Back in that big, bright room... where beneath all those smiles of the other patients was just... hopelessness."

Then he flips the paper over, and you find yourself peering at a drawing of flames, and the uncanny similarity to Hui's artwork all those years ago cannot be ignored. You see the same vivid depiction of flames, the swirling reds and oranges dancing on the page, and the black lines of its remains. But more than that, it's the emotions that these drawings evoke, the overwhelming sense of dread, and the traumatic memories that it unsheathes. He's the personification of the fire that scarred you all those years ago.

You feel a lump form in your throat. "Hui..."

"I-I am not Hui!" he wails out unexpectedly, voice shaking with anger. His hand grips the crayon so tightly that it snaps in his grasp, the colour streaking across the paper. "Hui is dead, remember? Burned by the flames?"

"If you're not Hui, then who are you?" You ask almost pleadingly.

His fingers toy with the broken crayon as he leans in closer, his disfigured face mere inches from yours. His gaze pierces through you like a knife, and in the dimly lit room, the shadows play tricks on his scarred face, making his disfigurement seem even more malformed.

"The phoenix, don't you remember, doctor?" He chuckles lowly. "It's a creature reborn from the ashes of its own destruction, risen from the flames just like me. Rebirth and fire, doctor! You haven't been paying attention, have you?"

You sense the panic seeping inside you, causing your heart to race. His words send shivers down your spine, and you realise that he's explaining with a belief that goes beyond mere delusion, beyond repair. The scars on his face are only a fraction of the damage done. He claims to have risen from the ashes, taking on a new identity, giving him this motive of... cleaning the world with fire.

Cleaning the world...

...with fire.

Ashes of its own destruction....

"You..." You slowly rise up from the bed, the room suddenly feeling too confining. The door seemed like it was miles away, and you find your breathing shaky and unsteady. "You were... you caused those fires, didn't you?"

His eyes fixate and narrow down on you as you stand up from the bed, and a sly smile spreads across his scarred face. His gaze is intense, and you feel like you're trapped. You recall the sessions you had with him years ago that you thought were leading him toward healing. But now, you face a man who has fully embraced a twisted ideology.

"I didn't cause those fires," he responds with eerie calmness. "I simply set things in motion."

"You𑁋You killed innocent people, you were the one... from ten years ago... You𑁋"

"They were all lost, meaningless, and I brought meaning to their lives. What's so hard to understand?" he deadpans.

"You killed your family," You state. "How can... how can you justify that?"

"Hui killed his family, I didn't," he claims, crumpling up the piece of paper in his hands. "Hui started all of this, I'm merely just a follower. He was misunderstood his entire life, and you promised him healing, which you didn't fulfill."

The room feels like it's boiling you alive, and you're stuck in an endless maze of his twisted delusions. There's a sense of helplessness as you try to reach through to the man behind the scars, the one who once sought your help, but you fear that he's too far gone.

"Jun, this isn't the answer. The… the phoenix is not real,” You plead, your voice trembling. "Hui was troubled, yes, but violence is not the path to understanding or redemption. It only leads to more pain and destruction."

His expression only hardens as he throws the crumpled up piece of paper on the floor, gloved hands forming fists at his side.

"You think you can help people by sitting in your comfy chair, listening to their problems, and scribbling notes on a fucking notepad." He scoffs annoyedly, leaning back in his chair. "You're just like all the others, doctor, so dumb and worthless. You never understood... You say that you do, but you don't."

And just as you were about to speak, you watch him pull something out of the pocket of his patient gown. You squint your eyes, and a gasp shudders out of you when you notice what's in his hands.

A lighter.

"You people are just so gullible, all while you're thinking you're helping," he mutters, flicking the lighter on. The tiny flame dances at the tip, casting bizarre shadows across his scarred face. "When in reality, you're laughing behind our backs with your stupid cigarettes and your fancy degrees. You wouldn't believe the things you can find in a place like this. It's amazing what people leave lying around."

There's an arrow that penetrates through your heart, an arrow of betrayal, helplessness. How can he think of you this way when you dedicated your entire time to helping him heal all those years ago? How can he, of all people, not see that your intentions were always to provide support and understanding?

You can feel the room heating up, not just from the small flame but from the growing tension. Jun's eyes are locked onto the flickering fire of the lighter, and his words are plagued with bitter resentment. You attempt to scurry to the door, but he blocks your way, nearly shoving the flame of the lighter in your face.

"Don't you see how beautiful this is, doctor?" he utters in a trance-like state, as if the flame was hypnotising him. The orange and yellow hues reflect onto his soulless eyes. He moves the lighter dangerously close to your face, and you can feel the searing heat radiating from the tiny inferno at the tip of your nose.

Your heart pounds like a beating drum, beads of sweat form on your forehead, and your breathing quickens as panic threatens to engulf you. But his gaze only remains possessed on the fire, as if he's being consumed by the very flames he holds in his hands.

"It's so beautiful how something so small can hold so much power," he murmurs, voice barely more than a whisper.

"This... This isn't the way to find meaning or healing," You respond, slowly backing away from him, trying to create some distance between the flame and yourself. "Fire and destruction only lead to more suffering, more pain. It's not the answer, Jun."

For a split second, something flickers in Jun's eyes, as if a fragment of his former self tries to break free from the shackles of his obsession. But it's a fleeting moment, quickly devoured by his fixation on the fire.

"There are... There are people who want to help you. Don't you remember all of our sessions together? All the... all the breakthroughs we had? You were making progress, Jun. You were on your way to healing." You bring your hand up as if in defense, watching him closely as he steps the tiniest inch closer to you. "I... I want to help you, I always have. I..."

He stares at you, and for a moment, it seems like your words might be getting through to him.

"Let me help you, Hui."

But just when you think your words may have struck a chord, his face contorts into a menacing grin and you can see the flame reflect onto his eyes. The last fragile thread of sanity that seemed to linger has snapped.

"You failed Hui that night, just like you failed me." He chuckles darkly. "You couldn't save us. Do you really think you can save everyone, doctor? Do you really think all the patients you've helped all these years are any better off now?"

Now, you found yourself speechless, a tight grip around your throat from his words.

He laughs coldly, waving the flame in front of your face once more. "You're so blind, doctor. You want to heal and save everyone, but you can't save me, and you can't save yourself. I can see it in your eyes."

He’s getting in your head, you know he is. He's trying to loosen your grip on whatever reality is𑁋attempting to unravel in your mind that you were, in some way, responsible for the events that had occurred over the years, forcing you to succumb to the guilt placed on your shoulders. You've never dealt with someone so deeply rooted to their own twisted reality. You can't reason with him.

It's impossible.

But you refuse to be the victim of your own past just like you had made yourself to be.

"Junhui," You call out urgently, and the use of his real name brings a harsh, foreign taste to your tongue. You notice the way he flinches slightly to it. "That person still exists inside you𑁋I-I know it does. Please, let that part of you come back. I'm here to listen, to understand, and to help. No matter what you believe."

The flame continues to sway at the end of the lighter, yet his face remains deformed into that unsettling grin, but your words seem to have given him a momentary pause.

"You think you can bring him back?" he hisses, bringing the flame away from your face, stretching his arm out toward the side. "He's dead, doctor. It's too late."

And with that, he tosses the lighter in the direction of the bed, and a cascade of flames quickly engulf the sheets, the crayons, the drawing, everything. Horror sets in as you watch the fire rapidly spreading, consuming the room, and overhead the fire alarm screams into action.

"Isn't it beautiful, doctor?" he guffaws as the flames devour the room, eyes wide with awe. "It's so perfect... So beautiful..."

Nothing but Jun's laughter fills the air as he watches the flames lick up the once-white walls with a maniacal fascination. The flames flicker and crackle loudly, casting shifting shadows on the walls of the room. You dart towards the door, but the intense heat and smoke make it nearly impossible to breathe or see, and you cover your mouth and nose with your hand. Coughing and vision disoriented, you stumble and hit the floor with a thud, weakly pounding your fists against the door.

"Someone help!" You shout desperately, the words barely escaping your mouth. "Someone help! I-I'm in here! Anyone, please!"

The room is suffocating you whole. You can hardly even see where Jun is amidst all the smoke, yet his laughter still rings in your ears, fogging away all your thoughts. You keep pounding on the door, voice hoarse from shouting, skin tingling with heat, but there's no response from the other side.

So this is how you're going to die, You think to yourself, leaning back against the wall like you were accepting your fate, and the thought makes you chuckle at the irony.

Time seems to stretch into eternity. But just when it feels like all hope is lost, the door bursts open, and a strong hand reaches in, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the room and into the chaotic corridor. In the corridor, the fresh air is quick to fill up your lungs. You gasp for breath, your heart racing, while the fire alarm continues to blare.

It's Seokmin who pulled you from the room, and you can hardly make out his face from your stinging, watery eyes. He wraps a protective arm around you as you both stumble away from the dangerous room, mixing with the rushing crowd of staff and patients all being guided outside to their safety.

"Y/N, are you okay?! Stay with me!" Seokmin continues to pull you through the corridor, shielding you from anything that you might run into.

You only manage a weak nod, still coughing from all the smoke. Your mind is racing, and you can hardly tell where you were going, but you trust Seokmin's guidance as he leads you further away from the scene of the fire. The sounds of sirens and shouting surround you, and the sight of the smoke floating out from the room you just escaped haunts your thoughts.

When the brightness of the outside hits your eyes, you catch your breath and fall out of Seokmin's grasp and down to the ground. Firefighters and police officers quickly brush past you and into the building as Seokmin pulls you up once more to lead you in the direction of the paramedics and ambulances.

"Here, sit down." Seokmin places you on the stair of the ambulance and helps you out of your white coat before wrapping a blanket around you. "Can we get some help over here?"

A paramedic approaches, checking you over and providing oxygen to help clear your lungs of all the smoke you inhaled. Your heart is still pounding in your chest as you sit there, trying to process what just happened.

Seokmin places himself right next to you, scanning over your features closely. You look over at him, and he gives you a reassuring smile, pushing away some disheveled strands of hair so he could properly see your face.

"You're going to be okay," he assures you, rubbing some comforting circles on your back. "Just take deep breaths and try to relax. They'll take you to the hospital to make sure you're alright."

You give him a nod, feeling a bit more security from him than the blanket draped over your shoulders right now. The two of you sit there for a few minutes, calmly watching the chaos begin to subside. It didn't look like the fire damaged much in terms of the outside of the building.

"I'm going to see if I could help around," Seokmin says, standing up. "Just stay here, okay? I'll be back before they take you to the hospital."

Just as he begins to walk away, you hesitate for a second, before calling out his name, "Hey, Seokmin?"

He turns back to you, a look of concern in his eyes. "Yes? Do you need something?"

You reach out your hand toward Seokmin, silently gesturing for him to come closer. He approaches, and without a word, you pull him into a tight hug. You feel him freeze in your grasp, before his arms fully encircle you in return, tightening the hug, and for a moment, the world around fades away as you hold onto each other. You can feel his heart beat a bit faster than normal against your chest, but you don't acknowledge it, and neither does he.

Eventually, you reluctantly pull away from the hug, but you don't let go of Seokmin's hand just yet.

"Thank you," You whisper. "for everything."

His gaze softens as he looks at you, before glancing away shyly. It makes you chuckle.

"No need to," he tells you. "I'm... I'm just happy you're safe."

The two of you stay like that for a moment, with you closing your eyes to steady your breathing while Seokmin continues to hold your hand, and you can feel the tension in your body slowly easing.

Seokmin's smile is warm, and he squeezes your hand gently. "I'll be back soon, okay? Just hang in there."

With that, he leaves your side to assist the emergency responders, leaving you seated on the ambulance's stairs, wrapped in a blanket. Your brows furrow together, trying to make sense of the situation and all the events that just transpired. The fear, the confusion, the mania that gripped the lost man back in that room𑁋it all swirls within your mind. The lingering scent of smoke fills your nose, and you swear and you can still feel the heat on your skin even though the air was cool outside.

As you sit there, lost in thought, suddenly feeling disconnected from the world around you, you find yourself questioning the nature of your profession and everything you ever believed about it. Could you have done something differently? Were there signs you missed that might have prevented this particular descent in delusion? Was he right, and you were blind this entire time? Not just for him, but for everyone you've helped?

Were you really this dumb and worthless?

Or perhaps was it impossible to save him this entire time...

...and he was too far gone?

That hefty burden of guilt, both for your inability to help him in the past and in the present, weighs heavily on your shoulders. What's for sure is that this will forever be an image tainted in your mind, scarred just like the man who brought destruction and chaos to your life today, and that particular day ten years ago.

You don't know how long you sat there until Seokmin returns, yet when he comes up to you, his face appears disturbed and... paranoid?

"They've got the fire under control. It didn't spread much farther than the room," he informs you, catching his breath. "It seems like nobody else was hurt."

"That's good to hear." Your eyes roam over his features, taking in the tense expression to his face. "Is... is everything okay? How about..."

He sits down beside you, expression still apprehensive. You can see the flicker of concern in his eyes, and the remnants of the chaos from moments ago are still evident in the way he holds himself. His gaze meets yours, and you notice a small shift in his demeanour, as if there's something he's struggling to express.

Seokmin darts his attention around, as if making sure no one was listening in, before taking a deep breath and leaning in.

"They... They said they didn't find his body in the room," he mutters, and it's so quiet you hardly make out what he says. "It's... It's like he escaped."

Your heart drops. A sinking feeling settles in your chest. Dread washes over you at his words.

"W-What?"

another another note: sorry if u expected some sort of romance w jun (which would kinda be weird for the story tbh), but feel free to imagine whatever u want w our dear seokmin. cgrats on making it to the end of the longest oneshot i’ve made so far on this blog 😍🫶

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @rubywonu @etherealyoungk

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supernovafics · 11 months

Text

𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐍

pairing: professor!steve harrington x professor!fem!reader

word count: 6.8k words

summary: in which it had been twelve years since you last saw steve harrington. and you never thought about him, mainly because you’d forced yourself not to. but, suddenly, it was hard to avoid thoughts or reminders of him when after all of those years, you finally saw him again. it was an abrupt moment that oh so quickly brought back memories and old feelings that managed to do a number of things; confuse, scare, and worry you. after everything that happened between you two, you fully believed that you would never want to talk to him again. but maybe that was the exact thing that needed to happen.

warnings: explicit language, mentions of cheating, a bit of fluff, implied smut, a shit ton of angst but with a happy ending

author’s note: this took forever and it's insanely long but i love the way it turned out<33 the rest of the trilogy will be out next, so "august" and then "betty" coming (very) soon!! (full "folklore" album series masterlist here!)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“and when i felt like i was an old cardigan under someone's bed, you put me on and said i was your favorite.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Fall Semester 1996

You rarely ever thought about your life pre-Rhode Island. Mainly because you never wanted to, but also because it felt so far in the past that there was never any reason to focus on what used to be.

You segmented your life into two phases. One, before you left your hometown, and, two, the moment you drove past the “Leaving Hawkins” sign and never looked back, refraining to listen to the part of the sign that told you to “Come Again Soon.”

It had been nearly twelve years since you left the small Indiana town, and there wasn’t one moment where you ran into anyone that you once knew from that “before” life, which, in turn, meant that you never had any reason to think about Hawkins.

Until you did run into someone. And it was probably the worst possible person you could’ve ever run into.

Steve fucking Harrington.

You would’ve rather seen Simon Gardener— your crush from sixth grade who you’d thrown up in front of when the two of you got paired up on a Science project— than Steve.

But, now here he was, standing barely twenty feet away from you. You’d nearly dropped the coffee you’d waited almost twenty minutes for from your favorite coffee shop. Instead, you spilled some on your hand and only inwardly winced at the feeling because you didn’t want to draw attention to yourself.

You almost turned around and walked out of the building you just walked into, but your office was right down the hallway that Steve was currently standing in the middle of along with the head of the English Department, Dan. And now that there was spilled coffee on your hand you really needed to go in there and rummage through the drawer of your desk that contained a bunch of leftover napkins from random nights when you’d order takeout to your office.

Before you could contemplate further about what your next course of action should be, Dan spotted you and called your name, waving you over to where he and Steve were standing.

“Hi, good morning,” You greeted him, expertly avoiding eye contact with Steve because you didn’t want to see his reaction to seeing you for the first time in what pretty much felt like forever.

“Let me introduce you to the new addition to the History department upstairs,” Dan said and then gestured to Steve, which forced you to finally look at him. “Steve Harrington.”

You could tell he was surprised to see you, but he hid that surprise by smiling at you, and you hated that even after all of these years, his smile still managed to do something to you.

Now that you were closer to him, you could see some minor differences about him. His hair was a bit shorter, nothing too crazy or dramatic, but you noticed how his “iconic” hair was a bit more tame compared to how it used to be. And somehow he managed to get a little taller, only a couple of inches, but still you noticed that too.

He overall looked older, which obviously made sense because twelve years would do that to a person. However, there was still something all too familiar about him. That same boyish presence that you had gotten so used to seeing still lingered on him. Behind his eyes, you saw exactly that boy you fell in love with that one summer.

The summer that you never really thought about; in fact, you’d forced yourself not to think about it. But, now with him right in front of you, random flashbacks to moments from that July and August, especially August, were the only things circling your mind.

Your loud laughs and wide smiles as you swam in his pool and let your body wrap around his underneath the water, your drunken talks until the sun came up, the makeout sessions in his car that almost always led to doing other things in his bed since his parents were never home.

You pushed those memories far away, just as quickly as they resurfaced.

“Hi,” You said to him and forced a small smile.

You could tell that he was studying you just as you had been studying him, taking note of what you looked like now and comparing that to the version of you that he used to know. Whatever differences you had, you felt like they were subtle like his were, and just came with the territory of aging twelve years, but maybe he saw something else. He was the only person who you felt was able to actually look inside of you; he had known the ins and outs of who you were.

“She’s a Professor in the English department,” Dan told Steve, and you were insanely grateful for Dan’s presence at that moment because you knew that it would be hell if you had been alone with Steve right then. “Oh, what happened to your hand?”

You looked down at your hand, somehow you had actually forgotten about the spill that happened only moments ago.

“Little coffee mishap,” You said with a small, awkward laugh. “I have some napkins in my office, though, so I’m just going to head in there.” You looked at Steve and directed another forced smile at him, you had a feeling you’d be doing that a lot now. “Nice to meet you.”

You mentioned something to Dan about seeing him at a faculty meeting later and then headed to your office, which was only about ten feet away.

When it was just you alone behind the shut door of your office, your brain could finally process everything that had just happened.

Steve was here. Not Hawkins, not Indiana, Rhode Island. And not only was he simply in Rhode Island, but he now worked at the college you had been working at for the past two and a half years.

The only word you could think of at that moment was “Fuck,” and then you couldn’t help but mutter it under your breath. You took a sip of your coffee and let the familiar sweet and slightly bitter taste soothe your nerves.

Barely thirty minutes later— after trying your hardest to finish up the planning for a lecture you had been working on for the past few days but failing miserably because your mind couldn’t help but wonder why Steve was here of all places— you were stepping out of your office and almost crashed right into him.

“Jesus Christ,” You yelped; once again so surprised to see him.

“I swear I was about to knock and this is just freakishly weird timing,” He quickly told you. “I wasn’t being a creep and waiting for you to come out.”

“Okay,” You said with a small nod. Somehow his nervousness at that moment made you feel less nervous. “Um, what’s up?”

“Can we talk, maybe?”

“I have a class in fifteen minutes, so I can’t now,” You told him as you glanced down at the watch on your wrist. “But, um, maybe soon, yeah?”

You were completely lying, there was no way you were going to talk to him soon; at least not about what you assumed he wanted to talk about. You refused to do that.

Luckily Steve couldn’t see through your lie, or if he did, he didn’t call you out on it. Instead, he nodded at your words before you walked away.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“'cause i knew you. steppin' on the last train marked me like a bloodstain. i knew you. tried to change the ending peter losing wendy.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Somehow, and much to your grateful surprise, you rarely ever saw Steve. And when you did, because he was only just upstairs so it was sort of inevitable, there were only quick passing glances shared between you two along with tight-lipped smiles and small waves; both of you too busy to have any kind of actual conversation with one another.

However, you did manage to learn a few things about him over the past month he’d been there. You heard through the grapevine— said grapevine being various faculty members that seemed to grow a quick liking to Steve— that he was taking over Tamara Wilson’s two Early European History classes for the rest of the Fall semester because she went on maternity leave, and in the Spring he’d be teaching it again along with a U.S. history course.

None of that information answered the one question constantly running through your mind, though.

What the hell was he doing here?

Because you had to admit, you were so curious to know about all of it. How he was here, why he was here, how this coincidence could’ve happened.

But, you also really didn’t want to talk to him because you had the strongest feeling that the conversation would also involve the past, that summer, and how much you didn’t want that to happen outweighed your curiosity.

Therefore, on the night of the college’s annual Winter Gala, the first instance that could actually allow you two to talk to one another, you still tried your hardest to avoid him.

You had always hated these kinds of events because they were solely used to schmooze alumni and other donors to get them to give the school money, and even though you understood the need for that, you still didn’t enjoy attending. However, you knew that you always had to show face, at least for an hour or two.

And you made it nearly an hour and a half without having to see Steve and you were almost certain that you actually wouldn’t see him. But, moments before you were about to make your final rounds and say goodbye to people, mainly Dan so you could prove to him that you’d shown up, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

It was almost too easy to know that it was Steve because it was only his touch that ever managed to send something equivalent to an electric shock through your body. And with the strapless black dress you were wearing, his hand making contact with your bare shoulder immediately made surprised goosebumps rise to your skin.

“Hi,” He said, offering a small smile. Somehow the first thing you noticed about him was the bow tie he was wearing. He was also wearing a black suit with a white button-up shirt, but the bow tie caught your eye first. You were immediately reminded of a memory of him saying how much he hated bow ties, but you had told him how great he looked in one. In this moment, you hated how right you still were.

“Hey,” You responded with a smile of your own, and you sincerely hoped he couldn’t see your nervousness through it. He opened his mouth to say something but you jumped in before he could. “How’s your first month here been so far?”

“Good,” Steve answered with a nod. “A little weird just jumping in at the middle of the semester and trying to go along with what Wilson already set on the syllabus. A weekly quiz was on there, and I immediately told the students that we wouldn’t be doing that anymore.”

“They probably love you for that.”

“Yeah, I got a round of applause on my first day.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, you were only fifty percent sure that he was joking, but either way, the thought amused you.

You wanted to ask when he got into history and into teaching, but maybe that question would open a can of worms that would lead to other topics of conversation you wanted to stay away from.

“I can guarantee that at least half of them will want to be in your class next semester,” You said instead of asking what you really wanted. “You’re gonna be doing U.S. History, right?”

“Yeah, and I’ll still be taking over for Wilson, so I’ll have three courses next semester, which should be interesting,” Steve nodded, and then a look crossed his face as if he just remembered something. “But, that probably sounds like nothing to you because I heard that you’re currently doing four American Lit courses and one British Lit course. Oh, and you’re the only person in the English department teaching that many courses, which sounds insane but that’s also pretty cool.”

You pretended as if now knowing that he had asked about you didn’t affect you at least a tiny bit. And you also pretended that hearing the admiration in his voice didn’t affect you at all either.

“Yeah, I’ve only been teaching here for a little over two years, so I still get stuck with most of the basic courses. Which isn’t horrible, but it’s pretty boring and easy, so I always do a lot,” You told him with a small shrug. All of the work that had been on your plate for the past few years sounded like a lot— maybe even too much— but in your mind, it actually wasn’t as crazy as it seemed. Because you liked drowning yourself in your job, it made you feel useful, and you’d spent so much time before and right after you left Hawkins feeling the exact opposite that you’d do almost anything to make sure you never felt that way again. “But, next semester I’m doing an advanced Creative Writing course for the first time, in addition to only two American Lit courses, so I’m pretty excited about that.”

Steve smiled at you. “That’s nice.”

This small talk felt okay to you, it was bearable. It was also mundane and a little trivial, but you’d rather that than talk about the past. Apparently, Steve had other plans, though.

“I had no idea you moved here.”

You pulled your eyes away from his and focused on your half-empty flute of champagne that you’d gotten when you arrived at the event and was probably disgustingly warm by now. You contemplated for a few moments whether or not you should avoid Steve’s question or allow the conversation to go in the direction that it was inevitably meant to go in. Maybe it was stupid to think that you’d be able to pretend as if your past, which Steve was quite involved in, never existed.

“Yeah… I went to college in Massachusetts and then I went to grad school here in Rhode Island but in a different part of the state, a little more north. And I always just stayed here, always finding a reason to stay around, some small internship or job, and then I ended up at this college because a friend who was already working here recommended me. I had never done any teaching before, but I actually like it.”

You didn’t tell him that the main reason why you always found a reason— more so desperately searched for reasons— to stay in Rhode Island was so that you never had to go back to Hawkins. But, maybe that was obvious, at least to him, because he was a huge factor as to why you knew that you needed to leave that town and never look back.

You silently wondered if he had been gone from Hawkins for a long time too, and then you realized that with the turn the conversation had taken, you could actually ask that question.

“When did you leave Hawkins?”

“Almost ten years ago now,” Steve said, and you had to admit, you were kind of surprised by that answer. To you, he always seemed like the type of person that would want to stay in the small town. “Decided it was time for a scenery change and my parents, especially my dad, were more than happy to send me anywhere.” He let out a dry and slightly sad chuckle, and you were all too quickly reminded of why you had always despised his parents. “He pulled some strings at this small college in Ohio, so I went there and actually liked it a lot, and I haven’t been back to Hawkins since.”

You two were sitting at an empty table now, somehow silently agreeing to migrate to that spot as you continued your conversation. You placed the glass in your hand on the white tablecloth and turned to look at Steve.

“When did you get into history?”

“My first semester I had this professor for a World History class and he was really great; Richard James. It was probably the first class ever that I actually cared about what was going on because of how he was teaching everything and I became pretty interested in history. I took a couple more history classes with him and some other professors too, and still really liked it so I changed my major to it. And after I graduated I started TA-ing for some of the advanced classes he was teaching.”

There was a smile on your face that you wanted to get rid of but couldn’t because it was just so nice to hear how happy Steve was as he talked about the past almost ten years of his life. You hated to admit it, and you’d probably never do so out loud, but there was still a part of you that cared about him so much, and you were glad that he was happy.

“And then I ended up here because last month Richard was supposed to do a talk here, but he got sick last second and asked me to fill in for him. And for some reason, the head of the History department really liked me and offered me a job.”

You had never been the biggest fan of history so it wasn’t that surprising that you had missed the first time that Steve had been here, but your mind couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if your paths had accidentally crossed then.

“I want you to know, though, that if I would’ve known that you also worked here, I wouldn’t have taken the job,” Steve told you, somehow pretty much reading your mind and answering your unasked question. “Because I know you left Hawkins because of me. Because you never wanted to see me again, which I completely understand.”

His words right then surprised you and you had no idea what to say in response to that; your thoughts started running a million miles a second and you could only look down at your hands in your lap. But then you didn’t have to say anything because Steve kept talking.

“I’m still really sorry about everything that happened.”

You were so close to telling him to stop talking about it. You were fully ready to make up some lie about how the past was in the past, and how you were over everything that happened twelve years ago.

But, right then you actually didn’t want to lie and pretend that none of it mattered. You didn’t want to avoid the past like a plague, as you’d been doing for the past decade, and like you especially had been doing for the past month since Steve showed up in Rhode Island.

However, it couldn’t happen here. In the school’s basketball court that had been transformed for the evening into a ballroom-type of elegant space. No one was paying attention to either of you, but the potential for someone to come up at any moment while you were finally having this conversation with Steve worried you.

You finally let your eyes meet his again. “Can we talk about this outside?”

Steve nodded as you stood up and he followed you out the nearest door.

It was dark outside, the time now nearing on ten o’clock, but the many lamp posts brightened up the emptiness of the quad. You found a bench and sat down, the cool metal against your back calmed your nerves a bit.

You were suddenly reminded of the last time you and Steve talked to each other before you left Hawkins, which was about a month into Senior year at a random party at Rachel McKenna’s house. It was barely even a conversation because you refused to listen to him and his slew of apologies back then. And then you also refused to talk to him for the entirety of the school year.

You were still unsure if you had any regrets about that.

“I really don’t even know where to start,” You said now with a small sigh. “I always forced myself to never think about us; about that summer and the aftermath of it too. For the longest time I pretended as if none of it really mattered. Because I knew that we no longer mattered to each other.”

“You always mattered to me,” Steve told you and it was almost too easy to hear the honesty in his tone.

Still, you were quick to shake your head at him. “Stop, you can’t say stuff like that.”

“But, it’s the truth.”

You bypassed that softly spoken statement because even though you could hear that he was being honest, you didn’t want to acknowledge it right then. So, instead, you focused on something else that he previously said.

“You’re right. You were the main reason that I left Hawkins, not the only reason but definitely one of the big ones. But, it’s also funny because you were one of the reasons why I almost wanted to stay.” Your next words sat right on the tip of your tongue, but they were almost too hard to get out. You cleared your throat and took a quick breath before speaking. “Because I loved you, I literally loved you. So much. But, I knew that I couldn’t, or that I shouldn’t, because nothing could actually happen between us. That summer we were living in a dumb fairytale that could never become a reality. And it was so fucking stupid of me to ever think that we could actually be something real.”

“I wanted us to be something real,” Steve said and you had to bite back the scoff you wanted to let out in response.

“Yeah, weeks after you told me that what we were doing would have to be over because it was the end of summer and Nancy was coming back to town,” You said, trying hard not to let yourself get thrust back into that memory because the exact words he had said to you that day were still etched in your mind. “But, when we abruptly ended, it finally put everything into perspective for me. I felt like such a shitty person because of what we did and how it was a fucked up thing to do. And then immediately having to pretend as if none of it ever happened made it all feel so much worse. I hated you, but I hated myself so much more for everything that happened. That’s why I never wanted to see you or talk to you again, especially at that stupid party.”

You hadn’t realized you were crying until a soft look took over Steve’s face and you suddenly felt the wetness on your cheeks. You haphazardly wiped them away and averted your eyes from his, feeling immensely embarrassed because you hated that talking about all of that, things from years and years ago, still made you cry like you were that seventeen-year-old girl all over again.

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry you felt that way,” Steve told you. “But, it was all so much more my fault than it was yours. I was the one that cheated on her.”

“But, I knew. I knew about Nancy, and I knew that what we were doing was wrong.” But, I still did it because I wanted you so bad, and I loved that you wanted me too. You didn’t say that part because you hated the way it would make you sound.

“Still, it will always be more my fault. I was such an asshole back then. All of that ‘King Steve’ stuff really got to my head and I did a lot of shitty things,” He said, and you could tell that he wasn’t proud of that part of his past and he really did feel bad about it. “But, I don’t regret you, or us, or that summer, though. And maybe that still makes me somewhat of an asshole, but that’s okay because it’s true. I don’t regret you. Not at all.”

Somehow hearing him say those words made you realize that you didn’t regret any of it either, which was a thought that actually made you want to cry harder. Because even though you should’ve regretted everything because of every single thing that happened after— the hurt and shame you felt so strongly for months after— you knew that you’d let yourself do it all over again.

You’d still stupidly talk to him for the first time ever outside “Ralph’s Sandwich Shop” after he mocked you on the fact that you liked to put potato chips inside your sandwich and then praised you once he tried it and realized how good it was. And you’d definitely still let him kiss you for the first while swimming in his pool in the middle of the night after whispering to him, “Are you sure?” and his answer being a small nod and his lips pressing against yours that led to the chain of events that brought you both to where you were now.

You wholeheartedly knew that you’d do it all over again. And because of that, it made you say your next statement.

“I don’t want to be angry and upset with you anymore, or pretend you don't exist. I want us to be okay with each other.”

“I want that too. I want us to be friends,” Steve said, and although being friends was a lot different from simply being okay with one another, it actually didn’t sound like too crazy of an idea to you.

You nodded at him. “Okay. Yeah, me too.”

You held out your hand for Steve to take, which he did, and the two of you shook hands to seal this “deal.”

Your gaze broke from his and you glanced down a bit. “Nice bow tie, by the way.”

“I remember someone told me that I looked good in them and I believed her.”

“She’s still right.”

“Good to know.”

You both smiled at each other and then laughed, and it may have taken twelve years, but it finally felt like the past was really in the past.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“but i knew you. dancin' in your levi's, drunk under a streetlight. i knew you. hand under my sweatshirt, baby, kiss it better.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 1997

It was during the most random of moments that you were startled by how close you were able to become with Steve again, and how almost too easily it was able to happen.

Joking around with one another actually felt normal to do, and even talking to each other about anything and everything somehow felt like second nature all over again.

Steve was the one person from your “before” life that you had wholeheartedly believed you never wanted to see again, and now you were glad that he was in your life again. Those stark lines between “before” and “after” that you had drawn twelve years ago were now completely smudged.

Sometimes when the two of you were in your or his office late at night simultaneously working on whatever you needed to while eating takeout from random places, you were hit with the thought, “Holy shit, I can’t believe I’m here with Steve fucking Harrington right now,” and when you would tell him that random thought, he’d laugh a bit and agree that this sudden turn of events did feel at least a little unexpected.

But, he liked how things changed these past few months, and you really did too.

Now it was you asking to use the shower in his hotel room that once again made you feel surprised by how comfortable you were with him.

“Can I use your shower? The one in my room doesn’t get hot for some reason,” You had said and then immediately laughed because of how insane the request was, but of course, Steve didn’t mind.

“Yeah, sure,” He answered with a nod of his head, opening his door further to fully let you in the room.

“Thank you,” You said, smiling at him as you walked in, a towel from your hotel room next door in hand along with a change of clothes. “I’m gonna tell the front desk about it tomorrow. I would do it now, but after the four-hour drive today, I actually feel disgusting and am in dire need of a shower.”

The two of you along with a handful of other faculty from the English, History, and Theology departments were in upstate New York for a small weekend-long conference. Things like that were definitely one of your favorite parts of your job. Hearing talks from the authors of books that you loved, and then being able to pick their brains afterward. It felt like you were a student all over again, but in a better way because you were only listening to the stuff you cared about.

It was also pretty endearing seeing how excited Steve was about everything too. He’d gone on and on about a lecture on World War II that was scheduled for tomorrow for at least an hour during your car ride together, and his happy rambling somehow made you want to go to it too.

“I haven’t taken a shower yet, so I actually don’t know if mine works either,” Steve told you as you headed toward the bathroom.

“Oh God, please don’t say that,” You responded and went to turn on the shower. You sighed in relief when you felt the water get warm on your hand. “Okay, we’re good!”

After your shower, you joined Steve where he was sitting at the foot of his bed. It probably would’ve made sense to head back to your room, both of you had to be up fairly early in the morning, but you didn’t necessarily want to leave just yet; even though the two of you had just spent the past four hours holed up in a car together.

He was clicking through channels on the small television placed atop the dresser, trying to decide on something to put on, before settling on a movie that looked quite familiar to you; Footloose. It was the movie that the two of you watched the first time you went over to his house that summer.

“Do you remember this movie?” He smiled at you and it was hard not to laugh at his question.

You met his gaze. “I definitely remember, but do you? Because you fell asleep during it.”

“I eventually got around to watching it,” He responded and you smiled at that.

“Good,” You told him as you pulled your eyes away from his and turned your attention back toward the television, the movie was close to the end.

When the credits started rolling ten minutes later, you were about to say goodnight to Steve and finally head back next door to your room, but he started speaking before you said anything.

“Do you ever wonder how different things would be now if we had ended up together back then?” He asked, and the vulnerability and genuine curiosity laced within the question made your heart constrict. “If I hadn’t been an idiot and gone back to Nancy at the end of the summer. If I realized earlier that I really wanted to be with you.”

His words actually managed to surprise you because, over the last few months of you and Steve becoming friends again, that part of your deeply intertwined past was something that neither of you talked about. What the two of you used to be to each other, so deeply and utterly in love, hadn’t once come up in your conversations. Maybe it was the elephant in the room that had yet to be addressed. However, a part of you also felt that it was unnecessary to talk about it because, just like everything else, that was also in the past.

“Things would’ve definitely been different,” You ultimately said, words feeling unsure because you now felt so confused. Your next statements came out rushed as you leaned back on the bed, your back hitting the comforter and your hands covering your face because you were purposefully avoiding eye contact with him. “Sorry, I don’t really know what to say right now. I didn’t expect you to say that, and now my mind is kinda spiraling a bit.”

The question became a broken record in your mind.

Do you ever wonder how different things would be now if we had ended up together back then?

You actually had never wondered about that because, for the longest time, you had forced yourself not to think about Steve, or that summer, or even Hawkins in general. But now your brain was spiraling in a thousand different directions with potential answers to the simply stated but insanely loaded question.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That was a stupid question. I don’t even know why I asked it, honestly,” Steve responded, words coming out rushed just as yours had. Something about his current sudden nervousness reminded you of the first encounter you two had in the hallway when you learned that he lived in Rhode Island. “Please forget I said anything.”

You didn’t want to forget, though.

“It would’ve been good, I think,” You said softly. You could feel Steve’s eyes on you, but you still didn’t want to meet his gaze. “I think we would’ve been really good together. I wouldn’t have spent almost every day working at the library, and instead, I would’ve gone to your basketball games and swim meets, and I’d actually enjoy it all because I was watching you. And we would’ve gotten drunk at parties on the weekends, and then the next morning you’d still drive me to my shift at the library and stay the entire time because there was nothing else that you wanted to spend your Sunday morning and afternoon doing. Maybe after graduating, we would’ve chosen colleges somewhere close to Hawkins, or even somewhere so far away from the small town. Probably someplace far away. But that part of it doesn’t really matter because we would’ve been together, and that’s all that would have mattered.”

There was really no doubt in your mind that that would’ve happened, or a different but similar version occurring that also included you and Steve simply being happy and in love with one another.

You felt the bed shift a bit after a few moments of your previous words lingering in the air of the hotel room and settling heavily over Steve, and you finally pulled your hands away from your face to look at him. He was now also leaning back against the bed and staring up at the ceiling.

“God, I was such a dumbass,” He muttered, and you could hear the sadness in his voice.

You turned on your side to face him. “We both were. I wish I let myself forgive you at that party.”

“I didn’t deserve your forgiveness then,” He responded as he turned on his side as well and met your eyes. “Sometimes I feel like I barely deserve it now.”

There was so much you could’ve said in response to that but words didn’t feel right in that moment. So, instead of saying something along the lines of, “Please stop beating yourself up about it. You’re a good person,” you shimmied yourself closer to him, closing the small gap of space between you two, and pulled him in for a hug.

The position was awkward, one of your arms was sandwiched underneath him and you knew that it would almost immediately fall asleep and cause some discomfort. However, any and all awkwardness faded away when you felt Steve reciprocate and his arms circled around you.

“It’s okay, okay? I promise everything is okay between us,” You whispered, almost certain that your words got lost in his neck, but when you felt him squeeze you tighter you knew that he was able to hear you clearly. And not only that, but he believed you.

And then it felt like almost second nature for you to make a joke to make things feel light again. “Actually, I’m still offended that you fell asleep during Footloose the first time we ever hung out. I don’t forgive you for that.”

You felt his body shake with laughter which made you smile, and after a few moments, you pulled back from the hug to find him smiling softly at you.

“I’ll redeem myself when the sequel comes out,” He said.

“It’s been twelve years, I think the sequel ship has sailed.”

He laughed again. “Okay, yeah, that’s true.”

You should’ve taken the newfound silence as your opportunity to say goodnight to him and head next door to your room. However, you couldn’t find the will to fully pull yourself away from him. His arms were still around you, like yours were, and your faces were dangerously close. But, the current proximity didn’t feel dangerous or worrisome to you. Instead, it simply felt right; which was an abrupt feeling that should’ve confused you, but somehow it didn’t.

“I really missed you,” He told you, breaking the silence with a statement that only cemented that “rightness” you were feeling at that moment.

“I missed you too.” Your four words somehow felt so effortlessly honest. Even though you had pretended that he and that summer never mattered by forcing your thoughts away from it all, Steve always still held a place in your heart. Deep down inside of you, something that resembled a yearning for him almost always lingered. “I constantly tried to tell myself that that wasn’t true, but I really did miss you… And I’m so glad we’re here right now.”

“Me too.” He looked at you so softly that you felt yourself slowly melting under his gaze.

In your mind, which now suddenly felt so clear and the farthest thing from confused, the next thing you wanted to do seemed like the best thing to do. In fact, it was something that you felt like you needed to do.

Your hand that was resting at the nape of Steve’s neck moved to his cheek as you dipped your head just a tiny bit closer to him.

Steve closed the small gap some more and his lips ghosted over yours for what felt like a fraction of a second before he pulled back a little and looked at you. “Are you sure?”

“Now that sounds awfully familiar,” You joked, referring to that moment in his pool all those years ago, and although he cracked a smile at your statement, you knew his question was serious.

You weren’t kids anymore. The two of you couldn’t just kiss and let it mean nothing in the end.

But, you truly didn’t want it to mean nothing.

You couldn’t have a good ending back then, but did that mean that you still couldn’t have one now?

“I’m so sure about this,” You told him and before he could potentially respond with anything, you let your lips find his, and how quickly Steve kissed you back nonverbally told you how he felt about it all too.

You were completely done for, you knew that for certain. There was nothing that could compare to this and there would never be anything that could compare to this— Steve’s lips on yours for the first time in years, but it feeling like the last time it happened was only yesterday. It was all so innate and easy, probably the easiest thing you’d ever done.

The way his hand found your waist to pull you even closer to him, which made you inwardly smile, and the way you let your fingers settle in his hair and lightly tug on the brown locks, which elicited a soft sigh in contentment from him— you still knew every part of each other so well.

Two people that had been apart for so long finally coming back together. It was a statement that technically summed up you and Steve, but in your eyes, that felt too simple and didn’t accurately summarize the hurt, pain, and turmoil that had accompanied the past twelve years. And it especially didn’t correctly encompass the current part of it all, the “coming back together” part.

Because that part felt indescribable.

A part of it felt similar to watching a movie that ended just the way you wanted it to, or having someone right there to help you get back up and patch up your wounds after you’d fallen off your bike. A feeling that said that even though everything had once felt so uncertain and the complete opposite of perfect, it wasn’t that way anymore.

Things quickly felt so good and right, and both of you were already making internal promises— promises that you’d later whisper to one another while wrapped up in the sheets of Steve’s bed— to never let each other go so easily again.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“and i knew you'd come back to me. you’d come back.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

let me know ur thoughts<333

(read “august” here!)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington angst #steve harrington one shot #stranger things imagine #stranger things smut #stranger things fluff

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hearts4chriss · 1 month

Text

Leather Jacket.

𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒

Bad boy!Chris + Nerd!Black fem!

Part 03

prompt: where Chris catches his friends bullying you and has too make a big decision.

contains: ANGST! Bullying, crying, violence, use of pet names ( my girl, princess, baby ), major fluff at the end ( keepin that a secret )

it had been 4 days since that whole incident in class with us, resulting in me taking her home which leaded to me beginning to take her home after her physics club and my football practice.

accept one day, it took her a bit longer than normal.

See my practice ended at 5:30 and her club ended at 5:45. I didn’t know what was taking her so long, I figured they just got held up so I waited another 15 minutes.

That’s when I began to hear some rumbling as yelling behind the school as I was in the front.

I sigh dropping my bags down and begin to walk behind the school seeing something I-i didn’t want too.

There she was, in her uniform on the ground surrounded by 3 of my friends.

they had taken off her glasses and were holding them away from her and mocking her calling her “nerdy girl” , “freak” , “ugly nerd” and hurtful words causing my fists to clench and my heart pump.

they had took her bag and threw her papers everywhere and they just kept laughing at her and throwing insult after insult and it began to break my heart as I couldn’t watch her be in pain anymore

“Please-just-leave me alone-“ she shudders through her tears and my “friends” just laugh at her.

“or what? gonna go cry to your boyfriend?” Oh wait you won’t have one! You never will because guys don’t like pathetic things like you. They chuckled and kept laughing at her and I had enough of it.

“Guys what the fuck are you doing?!” I yelled and they all turned around and looked at me.

“Just picking on this nerd you should join”. One smirked at me and I tilted my head to the side and scoffed.

“No I’m not doing this- I’m not doing this anymore I’m done”. I stood my ground my fist clenching becoming more visibly noticeable and one of them give me a pity laugh as I’ve never been the one to turn them down

“What? She’s just a girl she’s nothing sp-“ I cut him off with a swing too the mouth causing him to fall and the ground as the other two immediately catch and go for me next

“What the fuck man your supposed to be our friend? Beating us up for some random ne-“ that resulting in two gut bunches two the other guys as they all fall down on the wall.

“Watch ur fucking mouth when ur talking about her”. I say through gritted teeth leaving them all a few angry punches causing blood to appear on my fists

I was pissed, how dare they talk about this innocent girl who doesn’t do anything and at that, she’s my girl, she’s my fucking princess.

“c-Chris”- I hear her little voice cry out weakly and my gaze immediately shifts to her.

her slump body lay in the corner and her glasses scattered off and scratches on the clear lenses, her books and papers scattered and she looked so in distress as tears and shakes consumed her body.

“baby..I’m right here I promise”. I say leaning down in a squat beginning to pick all her things up and put them in her pink backpack.

she looked up at with me with a shaken and scared expression and that’s when I realized she really was afraid and she was hurt.

“You mind if I carry you?” I asked her calmly and she shook her head and I scooped her into my arms carrying her bridal style.

She rested her head on my chest as I picked up my other bags I had left near the entrance of the school.

“It’s okay princess I got you”. I kiss the top of her head and she sighs tiredly as I placed her carefully in the front seat of my car.

I began to drive her back too her house and she just laid there in the seat looking so fragile, as if she’d been broken into a million pieces.

“Ur parents care if I come in?” I asked peering at her softly.

“N-no they’ll be okay with it-“ she stutters and I smile at how cute she was beginning to drive down her street.

I parked in her drive way grabbing her bag with her keys in it and carrying her once again.

I unlocked the door and was greeted with her parents who had a shocked look on my face

“Oh god what happened?!” Her mother says with a worried face.

“Some a- guys school were bullying her and I took care of it”. I said calmly watching my tone and language and her mother sighs.

“Thank you- her rooms just up this way”. She sighs again and I nodded thanking her carrying her upstairs.

“Did we just let Chris sturniolo be alone with our daughter?” Her dad whispers.

I suppose we all have our moments…

In her room

I lay her on the bed and rummage in her closet grabbing her one of my hoodies I’d left over from when we…you know. She really liked it so I let her keep it.

“Here honey”. I give her the hoodie and she sits up.

“Can you help me? Please?” She says softly giving me puppy eyes slightly squinted because she wasn’t wearing her glasses.

“Oh of course”. I say being quick with taking off her clothes my breath hitching seeing her in a matching white bra and panties but I shake my head and place my hoodie over her smaller body.

“wait- m-my glasses- where are they?” She said anxiously getting up searching her bag and scrambling

“Wait”- I was cut off by her pulling them out her bag, the scratches on the lenses seemingly broke her heart, she needed those glasses and she loved them.

“My glasses…” she sighs sadly and I come over to her pulling her into my arms.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I promise I’ll fix all of this for you yeah?” I say facing her toward me and she smiles showing me her dimples and I instantly melt seeing her face like this.

Seeing how vulnerable she was with me, at her weakest point and she trusted me, the boy whose known for manipulating girls just like her, she was sitting right in his arms, my arms, peaceful and quiet.

She gained her trust for me, overtime even though I manipulated her into letting me fuck her, that wasn’t just a one time thing. I had grown too like her more overtime.

Seeing how she responded to my body, the way she would flush through her gorgeous brown skin, the way she’s stutter when I’d call her princess or baby or any of my nicknames for the matter. The way she’d sink into my arms whenever I wrapped them around her. The way she grew more comfortable with me had just made my heart pump with anticipation.

I needed to protect her, watch her, take care of her, make sure she was okay.

there was no sign or whatever to explain why my feelings are the way they are.

But there’s one thing I could say, something I never thought I’d say.

I think I’m falling for her

@mattsleftnipple03 @bernardsleftbootycheek @sturniolopowers @gdsvhtwa @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @worldlxvlys @chrisslut25 @princessbetsy123-blog @mattslolita @guccifrog @blahbel668 @mattsneezing @trickywritters @hearts4chris

@nonamegirlxsturniolo @luvmxtt @theyluv-meee @hoesformatt @luv4kozume @kikisturnioloo @itzdarling @pepsiimaxx @babyddolly @iiheartstef @junnniiieee07 @ast3ro1dzz @sturniolowhore @st7rnioioss @emma4eva @braindead4l @ihearttsyouu @kqyslyho3 @sturnsfav @sunsetsturniolos @sturniololoverr @stqrnstars @dlyansworld @chrisloyalgf @soimightlikeoldmen69 @abbie13sworld @lacysturniolo @sturniol0s @chrissgirlsstuff @luhsexcbihh @nicksmainbitch @rubyjaneaxx @love4chris @breeloveschris @meetballmatt @waydasims

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #🫂 → his princess series !!#heartsforchriss

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ah-ga-seven · 2 years

Text

The Naked Neighbor (I)

Pairing: Fem!reader x Choi Soobin

Word count: 17k

Genre: Smut, Comedy, Fluff, lighthearted Angst.

Synopsis: Life is dull, until a new neighbor moves in across the street. His name was Soobin, a mysterious loner who lived in his own bubble and was incredibly hard to get close to. One night, as y/n was in her bedroom, she saw Soobin through the window, freshly out of the shower in full view, which accounted for a series of interesting events as she notices a pattern in his nightly routine.

Warnings: mature contents regarding sex and especially voyeurism. Further mentions of drugs and alcohol. This story will also contain mentions of broken homes, parental issues and verbally abusive fights.

What is life right now?

No seriously. What is it? Because still living at home in the same boring old small town where you wake up in the same bed; to go to the same school, with the same group of friends every single day is not how you imagined your early twenties to be.

Most of your friends are in committed relationships, some stayed with their high school sweethearts and others fucked around until they found the perfect match but men mostly disgusted you so fucking with strangers was never your forte.

You repeated the morning routine you always did, quickly chowing a bowl of way too sweet cereal down after getting ready before leaving for school.

College was only a 30-minute drive away, so living on campus never really made sense to you. Especially since your single mother was barely ever home doing god knows what; it always felt like you had your own place anyway.

You pull up to your best friend’s house like usual, staring down the same street like any other day, waiting for him to come out so you could go to college together.

He was late once again so you impatiently hit the horn on your steering wheel multiple times, making a rather frazzled-looking Beomgyu open his front door as he scrambles for his last belongings in the hallway.

You give him an unamused look as you see him throw his bag over his shoulder while he jogged his way over to your car, opening the door to your backseat to throw his bag inside before getting in the passenger’s seat himself with a corny smile on his face.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” you tease him as you take the car out of park mode, checking your rearview mirror before you swiftly drove onto the main road again.

“Pfft, good morning to you too, cranky ass. I was up all night working on that report, and I still look better than you so shut up,” he stuck out his tongue at you and you roll your eyes at him.

…the hard part about that statement was that it isn’t a lie. Beomgyu can run his fingers through his long locks and look like the main lead of an anime without any effort and it was super annoying to say the least.

He eyed you carefully, his eyes softening as he saw you bite your lip. “More shit with your mom?”

“She didn’t come home all weekend and only texted me last night that she’d be staying with a friend.”

He pouted at you. “…You know you can just live with me if need be.”

“I’m fine, I just wish she wasn’t so fucking selfish. Sometimes it feels like I’m the parent.” In the split second, you make eye contact with Beomgyu to see his saddened facial expression, his eyes widened, leaning forward to grab your steering wheel, giving it a hard yank.

With an alarmed facial expression, you quickly regain composure, tightening the hold on your steering wheel to avoid collision with the car in front of you but in doing so you drove onto the curb and into a random pole which made you hit your forehead on the dashboard.

Your breathing started to intensify as you sit motionless in your seat. Beomgyu had his hands tightened around his seatbelt, unbuckling it in the next second as he checks on you.

“Y/n are you okay!? Fuck.” He put his hand on your cheek to make you look at him but you were in a state of fucking shock, unable to register how this could’ve happened.

“Switch off the car, let’s get out, quick.”

You do as you’re told, walking towards the front of the car to see the dent that had formed in your license plate. “It’s not that bad…” Beomgyu tries to calm you down, dusting off the paint that had come off to see the damage more clearly.

You bite your lip, suppressing the urge to cry. Why can’t anything go your way for once?

You looked ahead with glassy eyes, seeing that the black SUV you barely missed had parked on the side of the road. A tall figure got out of the car, and for some reason, you were scared of confrontation.

Beomgyu followed your gaze and straightened out his back immediately as he saw some guy approach the two of you, protectively taking a step closer to you, just in case the stranger would be angry.

“Is everything okay here?”

The low timbre in his voice reminded you of the voice of a radio host and when he got closer you got a good look at his face. He wasn’t angry, he was worried.

His eyebrows were furrowed with concern as he smacked his heart-shaped lips in confusion as to why you weren’t answering but honest to god you forgot how to speak…he was a little too pretty and though you could recognize anyone in this town, you’ve never seen him before. He looked about your age, handsome and tall as can be. His raven hair was perfectly cut, he looked like a model off duty in his denim jacket and casual clothes. This guy didn’t need extravagance to make him look elegant. Simplicity made him stand out which is exactly why you forgot how to form normal sentences.

“I-I’m sorry.” You stutter, which made Beomgyu sigh. “We didn’t hit you right?”

“No, no…but I saw what happened and- hey…are you sure you’re okay?” he didn’t finish his sentence as his eyes traveled from Beomgyu’s to yours again to catch you fully disassociating. Your head started to hurt and you unknowingly rubbed the affected area as you stared at the damage on your car.

You look up, pulling your mind out of its depths as you make eye contact with this stranger again at the sound of his voice.

“Y-yeah just a little…shocked. Again, I’m so sorry,” you say lost in thought as you make eye contact.

“It’s okay really. Nothing happened. I guess it’s one way to start my first day” He shrugged, averting his attention from you to Beomgyu as he spoke. “First day?”

“Yeah I just moved here, I’m starting college in the middle of the semester so that’s something.”

“Wait? College?” Beomgyu beamed, sensing that he could possibly be making a new friend here. Pretty people hoard together, and it looked like Beomgyu deemed Mr. model dude hot enough to be his friend.

“Yeah, Penwood University.”

And that’s when your eyes widened involuntarily.

“That’s our school! We were just on our way. I’m Beomgyu.” Beomgyu excitedly held out his hand for the guy to shake and he shyly smiled back at Beomgyu, taking a hold of his hand softly.

“I’m Soobin.” He says, letting go of his hand to check on you once again and your eyes couldn’t help but register his hand size as he did so.

“And you are?”

You snap out of it once again, giving him a faint smile to assure him that you’re perfectly fine.

“I’m y/n.”

You got home after a tiresome day that felt completely out of place. Ever since the minor accident from this morning, all you could think of was the complete rush of adrenaline that you experienced and also…Soobin.

Even though he attended the same Uni, you hadn’t seen him all day and for some reason, you were wondering why. Something about him was so mysterious, yet so warm and inviting that you wanted to get to know him better….but how.

You take off your shoes in the hallway and make your way to the kitchen where you see your mother in an apron. She was dressed in a cocktail dress that hugged her perfect figure, still in her hooker heels from the night before with her hair pinned up as if she had just returned from Vegas.

“Mom?”

She turned around and with complete shock on her face. She launched forward to squeeze you in her arms. “Oh honey, Beomgyu called and told me what happened.” She cupped your face, squeezing your cheeks together as she kissed your forehead. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine…Beomgyu called you? That’s why you showed up?” You untangled yourself from her hold trying to nonchalantly create some distance.

It surprised you that she cared enough to come right back but when you peeked on the kitchen counter you saw all types of baked goods and that could not have been a coincidence.

“Well…I was…not exactly. I was already on my way back. We have new neighbors moving in across from us and I wanted to give them a warm welcome with my famous cupcakes.”

You raise your eyebrows. You should’ve known.

“The first impression is what matters the most the rest is up to interpretation.” She argues when she sees your judgmental face as she wipes her hands on her apron.

“That’s horrible,” you comment scrunching up your nose as you play with the spoon full of frosting.

“No, it’s a form of unharmful bribe, you’ll get it when you’re older.” She says booping your nose with a content smile on her face.

You can’t even remember the last time she cooked you dinner, so you can’t help but roll your eyes. There must be a single dad moving in across the street cause otherwise, your mom would’ve never gone all out like this. You stare at the red velvet cupcakes and milk bread and feel your mouth water while your mind starts to wonder why your mom was such a master in the art of seduction.

If only she could’ve made your dad stay with her damn cupcakes because she’s been overcompensating for it ever since he left. But maybe the fact that she had you at 16 didn’t really help either. It’s like she was trying to win back her younger years now that you were grown, but being the girl with the young, hot milf mom to all of your male friends was embarrassing; so you weren’t going to let her make matters even worse for your family.

“Hey, tell you what. I’ll take these…baked goods to the neighbors, you’ve worked hard enough.” You say rubbing her back to fake concern.

“Oh, honey it’s okay I’ll go-“

“No. I’ll go.” You were determined to say the least.

You packed that shit in a random Tupperware container so fast, that she didn’t even get the chance to object any further.

After sliding into your shoes, you hastily make your way across the street and ring the doorbell in silent anticipation of whoever was going to open the door. You bite your lip, suddenly feeling anxious about meeting some stranger for the first time and that’s when you spot the black SUV from this morning

…It can’t be.

The door opened with a dramatic swing and your head immediately snapped back to the front door.

A rather confused-looking Soobin stared back at you with an equal amount of shock as he removed his Airpods. “…Hey…how do you know where I live?” his tone was soft, sweet, and yet kind of spooked. “I didn’t. I swear.”

Oh my god…this must seem so…fucking weird. He noticed how your eyes grew in size which made him awkwardly scratch his neck. “Uhm, so?”

“I-I brought cupcakes and milk bread. I mean I didn’t…my mom did. She made them.”

“…Okay…” Soobin carefully took the box out of your hands and inspected it. “I…uhh…I told you the thing from this morning was no big deal this…really wasn’t necessary. But thanks anyway…I love bread.” He shrugs.

And that’s when it hit you. “Oh my god, no.” you ramble. “This is a complete coincidence. See that house over there, I live there.” You say pointing back at your home.

Soobin raised his eyebrows in surprise, but he was more pleasantly surprised than anything else. “Really? Wow, that’s…”

“My mom bakes all the time.” Hah, no she doesn��t. Also, why are you rambling this much? Shut UP. He already thinks you’re a nutjob.

“I swear it’s no big deal. We just wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood, that’s all.” You give him a coy smile, and he smiled back at you, about to open his mouth until an equally tall man emerges from behind him.

It would only make sense for him to be Soobin’s dad…the resemblance was uncanny.

“Hello, who is this?” the man spoke with a warmhearted smile, and all you could do was smile back until you noticed how Soobin’s body language changed.

He stiffened, immediately getting tense and the sudden shift in atmosphere made you dizzy. Soobin straightened out his back, his eyes turning dull. “This is y/n. Our neighbor. She brought pastries to welcome us to the neighborhood.”

“Oh, that’s so nice. My wife will love them.”

Wife. Hmm? Sorry, mom. But you will certainly mention the fact that this man is cuffed at the dinner table later tonight.

“Oh, well I hope your mom will enjoy them just as much as you.” You tell Soobin with a soft smile, but he didn’t smile back at you.

“She’s not my mom,” Soobin replies coldly, and then it clicked. Ah…a stepmonster.

You blink a couple of times, confused as to why Soobin was so tense all of a sudden. “Thanks for these,” he says holding up the box. “I guess I’ll see you at Uni,” he mumbles before leaving you and his dad to it at the front door while he disappears up the stairs.

What…just happened.

Your eyes follow him up the stairs in confusion and that’s when his dad spoke again. “Don’t mind my son. His mother passed a few months back…we were separated for years before that but he’s still…hurting.”

“…Oh…it’s really none of my business.” You politely reply with a smile, because it really isn’t. But god…something about Soobin made you so god damn curious it was infuriating.

His dad sighed, deciding to open up some more for whatever reason that may be. “Initially he’d move into the dorms of the university alone, although I figured it’d be best for the family if we all went together.”

Ahh, there it is. He doesn’t even want to live here…not with them at least. Suddenly you feel bad for him. Even if you’re strangers you already feel closer to him because of the fact that you both come from fucked up households.

Maybe you’ll be able to confide in each other? No one really wants to be alone…right?

“Well…we go to the same college so…I’ll keep an eye out for him.”

Soobin’s dad’s shoulders fell in relief, showing you his pearly whites with a big thankful smile. “Thank you so much. And thank your mother for me, will you? That’s a really thoughtful gesture.”

Hmm. Yeah, so thoughtful, you think to yourself.

“I will, have a nice day sir,” you say with a textbook smile.

“You too, y/n, take care.”

“He’s married?” your mom asks wide-eyed, disappointment evident in her dilated pupils. You look at her a little funny while you play around with your fork. Dropping it on your plate to give her your full attention to get the message across.

“Well, technically he’s a divorced widower who got married for the second time.”

“And you got all of that from delivering cupcakes?”

“What can I say…I learned from the best.” You roll your eyes, but you knew your mother loved that remark when she started smiling at you knowingly.

She chuckled. “So, he also has a son?”

“Yeah, he attends my uni.” You say picking up your fork again to avoid eye contact but alas, your mom knows you a little too well.

“Is he hot?”

“Mom, oh my god.” You whine, rubbing your forehead in agony.

“Not for me, for you! When’s the last time you had sex?”

“Mom seriously!? What makes you think I’d talk to you about that?” you were glaring back at your mother with a scowl on your face but she was having way too much fun with it as she crosses her arms over her chest with yet another devious grin.

“Well, at least I won’t have to worry about you getting knocked up anytime soon. Wouldn’t want you to relive my past.”

“Trust me I’m not planning on it,” you mumble under your breath.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You go get that college degree for the both of us.” She says getting up with her plate in her hands, giving your temple a quick kiss before grabbing your plate to then disappear into the kitchen.

You took that as your sign to escape and made your way up the stairs and into your room, your mind still spinning with the way your mom saw right through you.

Fuck. Why is it THAT obvious you’re into Soobin?

Why are you even into him? You barely knew him.

You thought you were never the shallow type, but any and all attraction you had to him was based off of his physical appearance…cause other than his ‘Ok’ reaction to you nearly driving him off the road, he was moody as fuck at his front door this afternoon.

You didn’t bother to switch on your light and let yourself fall flat on your bed. You were just laying there with your face buried in your sheets, your limbs spread like a sea star in pure darkness.

It’s not even that big of a deal…you didn’t embarrass yourself THAT much and you’re sure you’ve got plenty of time to redeem yourself given the fact that you and Soobin were…well…neighbors. You try not to beat yourself up over how awkward that encounter just was, but how could you not? He must think you’re actually insane.

You sit up in your bed, staring out your window which just so happened to have the perfect view of the Choi families’ house, and spotted a light coming out of the window right across from yours.

Your eyes widened when you noticed there were no blinds or curtains. Literally, everything in that room was visible to the point where you saw several unpacked boxes in what seemed to be a men’s bedroom.

So if it's not the master bedroom, with a similar layout to yours….then…it belongs to…?

And that’s when you laid eyes on him, not suspecting a thing as he casually walked into the room. He was wrapped in nothing but a towel as his skin glistened from the assumed shower he took seconds ago.

Your mouth went dry, knowing that whatever you were seeing was absolutely intrusive and wrong but-

Plop.

His towel was on the floor, as was your jaw.

His bare bao-shaped buns were fully mooning you as he sprayed on some deodorant, fixing his wet hair in the mirror without suspecting your eyes on him from afar.

Shit, shit, shit. What were you doing? QUICK. Look away, or no. Don’t? Look some more!

You realized you were holding your breath. Trying not to make a sound which was absolutely ridiculous if you think about it. You literally lived in a different house…on the opposite side of the street.

You watch him mindlessly retrieve his underwear from his dresser across from his bed, gulping when his full dick comes into view.

What the f u c k. “What in the Godzilla dick is THAT” you clasp your hand over your mouth as those words leave your lips and try to sit as still as humanly possible.

Your mouth unwillingly started to water at the sight, lust taking over your senses as you watch him gently touch himself to adjust his (not so) little friend in his underwear. You squeezed your thighs together, sliding down the bed to sit on the floor, making sure he wouldn't spot you if he did decide to look out his window and into yours.

He proceeded to put on a shirt and threw himself onto his bed. He still didn’t suspect a thing as he put in his headphones to mindlessly scroll through his socials while listening to music.

Your heart was still racing as you decide to quickly close your curtains in the dark, praying to god that he didn’t notice or see…

Beomgyu nearly choked on his sandwich with big mischievous eyes and a coy smile. “HE’S YOUR NEIGHBOR!?”

“Not just any neighbor, he’s my naked neighbor,” you whisper, looking around the cafeteria to make sure he wasn’t around

“Your what now?” Beomgyu questions confused as ever.

“You know, a naked neighbor. It could be the single mom in her scandalous bathrobe every morning, the neighbor who accidentally flashes you taking out the trash, or some careless person who doesn’t close their blinds…Everyone has one, and if you don’t have one you are one.”

Beomgyu was way too intrigued by your observation, quickly thinking if he is one or has one…and he definitely is one now that he thinks of it. He quickly pushes that thought to the depths of his already empty mind and averts his attention back to you. “So….which one is Soobin?”

“…The one who forgets to shut their blinds.” You admit, avoiding eye contact as you play with the food on your plate.

Beomgyu’s mouth hangs agape with raised eyebrows and a wide smile. “NO!” he exclaims, earning a few glares and stares from students around.

“YES, now shut up you’re drawing attention,” you say trying to calm him down, but he was already giggling uncontrollably.

“So, you saw him? Nude?” he asks wiggling his brows.

“Front to back.”

He gasped with yet another shit-eating grin on his features. “Fuck dude…that’s…the most action you’ve gotten in ages.”

“Shut up.” You hiss, landing a punch on his shoulder.

You stiffen as you feel two firm hands on your shoulders and before you could turn around to see who it was he was already sitting beside you, giving you a confident smile similar to Beomgyu’s. “Hey, I heard you’re having a get-together this Friday?” Yeonjun, one of the popular kids who you’ve just so happened to grow up with asks with a soft smile showcasing his pearly whites.

You guys were friends, but it’s not like you were besties. Everyone in this town was somewhat civil with each other, and though you might’ve grown apart, you still hang out from time to time. “I am?” you ask shooting Beomgyu a glare since there could only be one culprit.

“I uh…might’ve invited some people over to your place because your mom is never home anyway, she’ll be cool with it.”

You glare at him. “Dude, how about if I'm cool with it?”

“You’d say no” he pouts and that just about sends Yeonjun, he’s losing it in laughter, wrapping an arm around your shoulder for god knows what reason, and of course right at that second Soobin spots you as he walks into the cafeteria. He froze for a split second, eyes scanning the tight hold Yeonjun had around your shoulders, but he seemed to not really care as he passed by.

Beomgyu tried waving at him to get him to come over but he didn’t notice. “Hmm, he’s such a loner.” Beomgyu huffs in disappointment, feeling the probability of becoming close to Soobin slip away.

“Leave him alone, this whole move is probably kind of hard on him,” you comment coming to his defense.

Wait. Why are you coming to his defense?

“On who?” Yeonjun was suddenly interested, looking at the two of you in anticipation.

“My neighbor, we met him yesterday. He’s new here and his name is Soobin.”

“Oh, I think I have a few classes with him, he’s cool. Quiet though.”

You all nod, neither of you really knew what to say next.

“We’ll get him to loosen up this Friday” Beomgyu comments, which made you squint your eyes at him. “Who said he’s coming?”

“Don’t be selfish, he’s literally your neighbor. Invite him, parties are the best way to get to know people.” He shrugs.

Hmm. He had a point.

“You said it was a get-together?” you glare at Beomgyu, but he didn’t seem to be shaken by the venom in your eyes.

“Party, get together, the same thing,” he argues waving his hand around.

“Okay, well. If you two are done with bitching about vocab, I gotta run. I’ll see you guys around though.”

Yeonjun got up from the table, leaned over to bro-five Beomgyu, and kissed your temple as he stole one of your fries. “Oh, by the way, I’m bringing a few friends Friday.”

Your eyes widened, trying to stop him from walking away. “Choi, I swear to god.”

“Yes, yes. Friday! See you!” he waves at you cutely as he disappears from your view, making you slouch in your seat in defeat.

“Come on Debby downer, it’ll be fun,” Beomgyu says trying to lift your mood.

“A party?” your mom says with wide eyes as she’s busy in the kitchen once again.

You sighed, of course, she’s not cool with it. Why would she be?

“My daughter is finally a social butterfly? Oh my god. Of course, have the whole town over I don’t care.”

And….you should’ve known better.

“Who’s idea was it? Yours?”

“No…Beomgyu’s”

“Oh, finally that boy is having a decent influence on you.”

Is he now? What type of reverse psychology is this?

“So, you’re cool with a bunch of Gen-Z kiddos invading your house for the night?”

“Sure, I’ll be out of town anyway, oh, and maybe invite Soobin? You can ask him tonight. It’ll be a good opportunity for him to get to know everyone.”

“Why is everyone-“ your eyes widened once you realized something. “Wait? Tonight, what do you mean tonight?”

You quickly look around the kitchen realizing your mom is cooking up a feast. “You didn’t think all this food was just for you right? I invited the Choi’s over for dinner tonight”

You froze, staring at your mom like a crazy person. “MOM! YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO TELL ME THESE THINGS.”

She looks at you funny, finding it cute how you panicked but she seemed unfazed by your raised voice, booping your nose to then shove a plate in your hand. “I just did, now set the table would you sweetie? They’ll be here in an hour.”

[Y/N, 6:05 PM]: My mom is cool with the party.

[Beomgyu, 6:05 PM]: Ahh, see I told you. She the real MVP

[Y/N, 6:05 PM]: No the fuck she’s not, she invited Soobin and his parents over for dinner tonight

[Beomgyu, 6:05 PM]: 👁👄👁 as an empath I’m sensing this is rlly bad.

[Beomgyu, 6:05 PM]: Doesn’t she know about the messy relationship they have right now? You told her right, the thing with his mom passing?

[Y/N, 6:06 PM]: Yes. I did. I don’t know what she got up her sleeve, I’m just hoping for a minimum amount of embarrassment tonight.

[Beomgyu, 6:06 PM]: Fuck. Tell me if you need an escape, I’ll come get you.

[Y/N, 6:07 PM]: Thanks…I’ll call you once it’s over with.

[Beomgyu, 6:07 PM]: You got this ❤️✨

[Y/N, 6:07 PM]: 😭

You hear the doorbell ring and quickly put your phone in your pocket. You hated forced social gatherings, especially ones with handsome next-door neighbors who you’ve seen completely naked in the first hours of knowing him.

Your mother opens the door in her skintight black dress, she made you change from your sweats into ‘something more presentable’, and thank god you did because everyone else was dressed nicely.

“Hi, I’m Isabelle. Thank you for inviting us to your lovely home.” Soobin’s stepmom spoke as she entered, your mother and Isabelle exchanged three kisses on the cheek, as she did with Soobin’s father. You watched your mom’s hand linger on his upper arm and squinted your eyes at the sight, and that’s when you laid eyes on Soobin, who was giving you a soft smile to greet you.

Wait? So, he does like you? Or is he putting up a façade to please his parents?

“Hey,” he says lowly, giving your shoulder a nudge.

“Hi, uhm…just so you know I had nothing to do with this.” You whispered as your parents made their way to the dining table.

He huffed with a side smile, nodding to himself as you both arrive at the dinner table. He suddenly took out a chair for you, motioning for you to sit and you comply awkwardly, helping him scoot the seat closer to the table.

That was…nice?

Your mother gave him an approving look, as did his dad before they all sat down. But Soobin didn’t seem to notice any of it as he took the seat next to you, looking around just like his parents; probably noticing the lack of a male figure in your household.

“This looks amazing.” Soobin’s dad remarks as he looks at all of the food. “Your husband won’t be joining?”

You stiffened in your seat, which Soobin noticed. He looked at your fallen facial expression with a frown on his own face.

“Dad..” he whispered in disapproval at his father’s blunt comment.

“Oh, he hasn’t joined us for dinner since y/n turned 9 years old.” Your mother straightforwardly comments back. Earning raised eyebrows and a cough from Isabelle.

“…I’m sorry.” Soobin’s father quickly apologized with a charming smile, making your mother smile back at him as she waved the moment of awkwardness away.

“It’s ok, it’s just me and y/n.”

You lifted your head to smile at the family and soon enough everyone had assembled their plates to start eating.

“This is really good.” Soobin compliments your mother’s roast chicken as he chews with fervor, it made you giggle, and your mom’s eyes softened at the way he seemed to enjoy her cooking.

“I thought you didn’t like roast chicken?” Isabelle asked with genuine question marks in her eyes and that’s when Soobin swallowed the food with big eyes, looking at her directly as if he got caught with something

“I uh. I like this one, it's seasoned.”

Oh my god.

The chicken wasn’t the only one being roasted, cause his stepmom was NOT happy about that comment.

Isabelle bitterly smiled to herself and his dad gave Soobin a warning glare but Soobin didn’t seem to care. Your mom however was intrigued by him. “So Soobin, y/n told me you two go to the same school? How is that?” Soobin looked from his father to your mother and smiled at her warmly. “Yeah, the school is fun. The people are nice, as are the teachers. I’m enjoying my time there. Kinda wished I lived on campus though.”

His father's jaw visibly clenched at that comment and Isabelle’s eyes traveled from your mother to Soobin’s as well.

“How so?” your mother pries some more, acting all innocent when she knew better than anyone why that is.

“It’s hard to get close to people. I joined in the middle of the semester and was forced to live at home so…” He was decent enough to tell half-truths, not really feeling like getting into the whole I’m forced to live with my dad 'cause he’s worried about me since my mom died thing.

“Forced?” your mom asks dropping her cutlery and that’s when you knew you had to jump in to make sure this conversation didn’t go south any further.

“I-I’m having a party here this Friday. You should come, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

All eyes were on you, as were Soobin’s who was staring at you with parted lips. Your eyes wandered for a second, but you immediately looked back into his eyes.

“Is it your birthday soon?” his dad asks.

“N-no, it’s just…random.”

“Do you have parties at random a lot?” Isabelle asks and you quickly shake your head. He rolled his eyes at his step mothers’ attempt to condemn the situation. Regular college parties in a neighborhood as peaceful as this one is not something the family signed up for when they moved here. But lucky for them, it’d just be a one-time thing…possibly.

“I’ll come.” Soobin smiles at you sweetly, picking his fork back up to continue eating, as did everyone else which made your shoulders fall in relaxation.

This could’ve gone a lot worse.

“Will you be there too?” Isabelle asks your mother which made her snort to herself. “No, of course not. Why would I crash a college party?”

“For supervision?” Isabelle questions as serious as ever.

“…My daughter is a responsible adult. I know most of her friends since they all grew up together. It's a small town, no one’s doing crack here Isabelle.”

Soobin and yourself snort at that comment. Your mom lets a lot fly past her head, but people judging or doubting you is something she doesn’t do well with.

Soobin’s father and Isabelle tried to laugh at the comment your mother made away as a joke and Isabelle quickly tried to redeem herself. “I was just curious that’s all. It’s not every day that parents give their blessings for college parties.”

“Well, I’d rather have her do it under my roof and for me to know about it than her doing it behind my back.”

“Point taken,” Soobin’s dad says which made Isabelle glare at him.

Your mom was making herself seem like mother of the year right now, which was far from the truth but something about the way Soobin’s dad was looking at your mom didn’t sit quite right with you.

He liked her. It was evident in the way his eyes twinkled at her independence, wittiness, and well…her tits pressed against each other in that goddamn dress weren’t making matters any easier for him either.

Soobin slouched in his seat with a smile on his face, looking from his parents to your mom as they quietly ate their food. You looked at him, softly kicking him under the seat to say something in order to lift the mood. He seemed to be okay with the awkwardness, but you weren’t.

He looked at you knowingly, shrugging his shoulders as he took another bite and it made you roll your eyes at him…which he also smiled at. He was clearly enjoying all of this.

“So.” Soobin starts, looking at you, which made everyone’s eyes land on you once again. “You done eating?”

You give him a confused look, looking from your empty plate to him. “Obviously.”

Soobin looked from you to your mother. “Can we be excused? I want to talk to y/n about…school stuff.”

Your mom crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back in her chair as she poked her tongue in her cheek.

“Soobin, I’m sure that can wait” His dad starts, but your mother smiled at Soobin. “School stuff? Well if it’s school stuff it must be really important.” She winked at him and he smiled at her, getting up from his chair to then look at you impatiently. “You coming?”

You raise your brows at him, getting up from your seat, and give his parents an apologetic look. “We’ll be right back.”

Soobin subconsciously guides you out of the room by putting his hand on your lower back, but the feeling of his slender yet large fingers ghosting down your back sent shivers down your spine. What could he possibly want right now?

Your mind started going into overdrive but before you knew it you were out of the dining room and into the hallway right next to the staircase. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothings wrong, I felt like we both needed a breather from the awkwardness at that table. Let’s go for a walk?”

You look up at him, your eyes searching for sincerity in his own, but you couldn’t quite tell if he was joking or if he was serious. He stepped aside to make room for you and grabbed his jacket which you took as a sign to grab your own as well.

While you walked down the block, you didn’t know what else to do other than apologize for your mother's behavior.

“…I’m sorry, my mom she’s-”

“She seems fun.”

“She’s not,” you state firmly.

Soobin raised his brow at your bitter tone, realizing that he can’t just judge your family dynamics off of one simple dinner, but he couldn’t help but like her after she put Isabelle in her place multiple times. He decided not to go against you for it, given the fact that he’d hate it if you tried to tell him his dad ‘wasn’t as bad as he seemed.’

“It’s what she wants you to think,” you mumble to fill the silence.

“Sorry.” He quickly apologized, putting his hands in his jacket pockets for his lack of knowing what to do with them.

You glanced at him as he walked quietly beside you. The silence that followed was comfortable yet awkward. There were so many things you wanted to ask him, but your mind only seemed to replay one particular moment…the naked moment.

“S-so tell me about you.” You stammer, glancing at Soobin as you tried to look just the right amount of interest in him. Mystery was your charm…so you decided to stick with it.

Soobin snorted, a side smirk upturning the edge of his heart-shaped lips. “What do you wanna know?”

Fuck. You should’ve known he wouldn’t just start blabbing about his life. The whole ‘mysterious’ concept you wanted to stick with somehow also transferred to Soobin.

He looked at you, waiting patiently for you to say something as you sighed the deepest sigh ever, but then you figured out what to ask to get him to speak.

“If you hate your dad so much, why do you live with him?”

Well…this is a low blow on your part. You knew full well that his mother passed…but the thing is that Soobin didn’t know that you knew.

He swallowed harshly as his shoulders fell and suddenly you felt like an ass.

“….Y-you don’t have to-” you stammer with a sorry expression on your face.

“My mom died a few months back, of cancer.” His voice was stable, but his eyes held a pained gaze. You stopped in your tracks, which made him stop too to look back at you with question.

“I shouldn’t have asked, I’m sorry.” Your eyes were big with regret and his shoulders fell as he bit his lip.

“No, It’s ok.” He chuckled. “How else are we supposed to get to know each other if we keep avoiding subjects.” He shrugged, tugging your arm to make you walk with him again. Your feet started to match his pace automatically; not even realizing how he made you snake your arm through his own.

“I’m fine. Grief is a process, and I’m really lucky I got to properly say goodbye to her, but these big changes are hard. I was hoping to move away alone but my dad insisted on the whole family sticks together thing.”

“…And that’s bad because?” you were trying your hardest not to judge, but having a parent who cares was better than having none, right?

“Because he left us first to start a new life with Isabelle. My mom got sick soon after that and he just…lived his fucked up fairy tale as my mom fought for her life on her own. I won’t ever forgive him for it. He’s a hypocrite and he’s trying to make amends in the worst ways.”

You swallowed harshly, as did Soobin, soon realizing he was opening up to you faster than he thought he would or wanted to for that matter.

“I think both of our parents have a way of putting themselves before us and making up for it when it’s too late. It’s a hard burden to bare and an even harder reality to accept. It sucks cause it basically means we had to grow up too fast.” You say thinking about your own situation back home.

“Yeah.” Soobin sounded absentminded as he listened to you attentively. Realizing that you two might have more in common than he thought.

“Being alone isn’t always the answer you know. Don’t hesitate to reach out to me or my friends.” you were looking at the pavement as you walked, not realizing his eyes burning into you.

“Your friends?”

You quickly look back at him to then look away again. “Yeah they’ve been trying to get close to you but you’re such a fucking loner. I think Beomgyu will pee his pants out of excitement if I tell him you’re joining for lunch tomorrow.” You giggle as you are reminded of your best friend and Soobin’s eye smile returned as he chuckled. He nudged you ever so gently which set your whole body on fire. You hated the effect he had on you. It was starting to become annoying.

“Will your boyfriend be okay with it?”

“Boyfriend?” your eyes widened as you look up at Soobin, taken aback by how close he was to your face.

“The guy that kissed your cheek at lunch today.”

“That’s not- Oh my god. No, that’s Yeonjun…he’s just…touchy that’s all. I’m not dating anyone.”

He laughed at your little panic attack and nodded. “Relax, I was just curious that’s all.”

Why was he curious? Was he...interested?

You quickly take your mind out of the gutter as you both cross the street, back to your house. You pout your lips forward, contemplating what to say but you decided to steer the conversation back to the previous topic.

“I’m serious. If you need an escape my door is always open, my mom is never home anyway.” You rolled your eyes at the latter part not noticing that Soobin looked at you in surprise at how sweet you were.

He gave you a cute smile at which your heart clenched in your chest. You beamed back at him, now realizing how close the two of you were as you walked arm in arm. You tried to nonchalantly detangle yourself from him, but he noticed how flustered you were, and it made him smirk to himself contently.

“Thank you y/n.” he stopped to look you dead in the eye as he spoke, making a shiver run down your spine at how deep his voice was. You averted your gaze from his lips to his eyes and smiled coyly, giving him a playful shove to create some distance.

“Don’t mention it. We should head back before my mom does something stupid.”

It wasn’t long after the two of you got back that Isabelle was ready to leave, and well…you couldn’t blame her.

After thorough interrogation from your mother during the dishes about your walk with Soobin, and a quick shower, you finally got some peace and quiet as you walked into your room. Ever since you met him, per usual your thoughts were filled with Soobin, but tonight was different. Tonight, you actually had real-life dialogue to analyze. You thought about everything he’s done and said as you dried your hair, trying to read between the lines and figure out if you were just being delusional or if the look in his eyes implied there was something more than friendship.

You didn’t mean to peak or anything, but as you walked over to your window to close the blinds you noticed how Soobin STILL hadn’t put up any type of curtains. A small light was switched on atop of his bedside table, but Soobin himself was nowhere to be found.

You sighed, biting your lip. Your mind involuntarily played the images of his casual nakedness from the other night and just as you snap out of it, Soobin stepped into his bedroom…in boxers this time.

You gulp, hiding behind your curtain but peeking through the net curtains that separated you from his direct view if he were to look in your room’s direction.

His physique is incredible…not only did he have slightly sculpted abs but the muscles in his legs, arms, and shoulders were defined just right through his milky skin…what you would’ve given to be able to trace your fingers over the curve of his biceps right now.

Your eyes grow in size as you watch him position himself on his bed, he was laying on top of the sheets, staring at the ceiling before he closed his eyes. His fingers slowly slid down from his lower abdomen to his crotch and that’s when you noticed the unmissable large bulge showing through his underwear.

He cupped his hardness with his right hand, his hand slowly massaging the outline of his member before he slid his hand into his boxers.

What you were seeing was absolutely sinful and you had no idea how long you had been standing there at this point. It was wrong to keep looking but it's like you were frozen into place. You felt your mouth grow dry as you press your thighs together, watching him play with himself as his face contorted in pleasure. The silence however was torturous. Not being able to hear his pretty moans as he touched himself left you frustrated, but the sight alone had you pooling down there.

His pace was intensifying, and you watched him twitch from pleasure as he pumped himself harder and faster. His eyebrows knitted together as he bit his lip, jolting forward to prepare for his orgasm, and then it washed over him like waves crashing against the shore as white spurts of liquid covered his abdomen. His breathing got heavier and heavier, but he clasped his free hand over his mouth to keep quiet as he slowly pumped out his high.

You gulp, quickly closing your curtains before your knees grew weak. Your legs gave out right after, clutching your hand over your chest to feel how fast your heart was pounding.

“Shit.” You cursed under your breath while you found the strength to get back up, throwing yourself on the bed to then stare at the ceiling, your pupils nimbly darting back and forth as your mind went into overdrive. Did he fantasize about you? It’s not even that much of a far-fetched assumption if he felt the need to rub one out just moments after the two of you spent time together.

You bite your lip, pinching your eyes closed as the sexual tension and frustration start to become uncomfortable, and before you knew it your fingers started to dance around the hem of your by-now soaked panties.

His pretty face and the way he looked so desperate as he twitched and jolted during his private session were spurring you on to reach the same highs just as quickly as he did. You weren’t sure if it was your name that he moaned when he came undone, but you sure as hell did moan his as your body started to involuntarily shock against your fingers.

“You never called,” Beomgyu says, pulling you out of your daydream of last night's events as he sits down next to you in the cafeteria.

You try to act nonchalant and scoot to the right, making more space for him on the bench. “Yeah, it was a pretty ok night actually,” you vaguely state trying to occupy yourself with your phone so you wouldn’t have to go into detail about things, but you could already feel Beomgyu’s eyes burn into your skull.

“What’s pretty ok? Did you talk to him at all or?”

“Mmmhmm we actually bonded a bit…” …in more ways than one.

“Oh well, that’s good. Do you think he’ll join us for lunch?” His eyes lit up with expectancy. It was actually pretty cute how badly Beomgyu was trying to get close to Soobin, but to no avail yet.

“I don’t know…”

Your thoughts and conversation were interrupted as Yeonjun and his clique planted their asses at your table.

“Hey babes” Yeonjun greets the both of you in a way only he could and immediately starts to ramble about his new flame.

“Wait? What’s her name again?” Hueningkai asks as he takes a bite of his apple.

“His name is Felix and they’re actually leaning more towards they/them.” He snarkily replies rolling his eyes.

“Sorry I asked,” Hueningkai says with widened eyes, turning away to avoid Yeonjun’s glare.

“I don’t know why you bother asking anyway, Yeonjun finds a new hole to entertain every other week” Taehyun remarks which made everyone at the table burst out in laughter except for you because you noticed a certain someone walk into the cafeteria.

Soobin was actually looking around for you but when he locked eyes with you he noticed how crowded your table already was. You observed how he hesitated as he redirected his feet to another table, deciding not to join you just for the fact of being too introverted to do so.

He shot you an awkward smile and walked over to a table with fewer people who you all recall to be from his class.

You were visibly disappointed yet didn’t even get the time to mope about it before Beomgyu noticed by following your gaze.

He sighed, kicking you under the table so you wouldn’t get caught staring at Soobin. Just before you could bitch at Gyu for doing so, Yeonjun was already on to the next subject.

“So, partner, when were we meeting up again?” he asks cocking his head to the side to catch your attention.

You snapped out of it, giving him a confused stare. “Partner?”

“Yes. We have a project together for Mrs. Young’s class. Did you forget?”

“Oh, no. I figured I would just end up doing all of the work again, you know…so you can entertain your weekly hole.” You bite your straw with a sassy smirk which had Yeonjun scoffing with a dumbfounded look on his face.

Taehyun choked on his drink, giving you a high five for stretching out his joke as you both giggled. “Well if I keep letting people do my work, I won’t be able to write my own thesis so, what do you say? Today? After school?”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise at his sudden maturity and nod, pouting your lips forward.

“Yeah sure, we can do it at my place, my mom’s not home.” You shrug, not meaning anything by the latter part of your sentence. They already knew you were basically an orphan.

Yeonjun smirked. “You sure you want me there with no one around?”

You knew him well enough to know he was just joking, but sometimes you got confused if the flirtiness in his tone and body language were fake or not.

“Didn’t you just say you were dating someone?” you ask cocking an eyebrow.

“Dating is a big word.” He says with a smirk on his plump lips, giving you the chance to roll your eyes at him once more.

“You’re disgusting,” you huff, making the rest of the guys laugh at your banter.

A/N: you are now halfway through the fic.

Soobin got home around 6 PM that same day, mentally abusing himself for the fact that he didn’t have balls big enough to just walk up to you and your friends, but honestly; who wouldn’t be intimidated?

He did get a follow request from that Beomgyu guy and accepted it on the way up to his room as he lazily stalked his profile. He noticed a few pictures you were in and zoomed in on them to analyze your features a little. He caught himself smirking a little too hard when he got to his bedroom and locked his phone to snap out of it. Soobin threw his phone on the bed just for the device to completely miss the cushiony surface as it hit the hard wooden floor with a loud thud.

“Shit,” he curses as he clumsily jolts forward to pick up his phone. He got up; facing the window to his bedroom and suddenly noticed one brightly lit room on the opposite end of the street where you lived.

His eyes widened, noticing for the first time how clearly he could look into your bedroom when the lights were on, but just as he was about to look away; he noticed a male figure sitting on your bed.

It was that Yeonjun guy. He was typing something on his laptop, resting his back against the headboard of your bed, and for some reason, it irked Soobin.

You kicked your bedroom door open with your foot, carrying a tray of snacks and drinks into your room for the two of you to enjoy during your study session. Yeonjun quickly got up from the bed to help you out which made you smile at him.

“You act like this huge dick, but you’re the softest bean, I just don’t get it.” You say as you snack on a biscuit. Yeonjun crossed his legs on your bed, stealing the packet from you to retrieve one for himself, and sighed. “It’s not an act, you just know It’s not who I really am because you’ve known me for so long,” he mumbles shoving the cookie into his mouth.

“I just don’t want you getting hurt that’s all.” You sigh, looking away for a second but when you looked back at him he had a soft side smile plastering his lips. Yeonjun patted your hair in endearment, leaning back onto your bed to open his laptop again. “You don’t have to worry about me, I’ll be fine. Now let’s do this thing so we can go to sleep at a decent time yeah?”

You nod, biting your lip to then scoot closer to him on the bed to see what he was doing so you could follow along before you opened your own laptop, but all it looked like was a Netflix and Chill situation to Soobin.

Soobin was glued to the floor as he looked at the two of you until he was called by Isabelle for dinner. He was confused as to why he was so bothered. Did you lie to him when you said Yeonjun wasn’t your boyfriend last night? Or is he reading into things too much?

He sighed, turning back around to go downstairs, flipping off the light to his room before he made his way downstairs again.

Yeonjun, who somehow felt eyes on him, noticed how a light switch off followed by a tall figure closing the door behind him in the house across from yours. He froze for a second, giving you a look. “Yo, I think someone was looking at us.”

You blankly stare at him, leaning over the other side of the bed to retrieve your own laptop. “Huh?”

“…No like…seriously.” He got up walking towards your window to have a closer look into the bedroom across the street and that’s when it clicked to you. “Over there.” He said pointing into Soobin’s room.

“Uhm, I…it’s probably nothing.” You say avoiding eye contact with Yeonjun, but he couldn’t quite let it go.

“Y/n if some creep is peeping at you through his damn window then that’s fucked up. They don’t even have blinds or curtains up how obvious can it be.” Yeonjun was getting worked up as he crossed his arms, staring into Soobins bedroom with an angry duck pout on his lips.

“Yeonjun, let it go. Please. Let’s finish this thing.”

“No.”

“Yeonjun.”

“No, he’s a pervert.”

You sigh closing your eyes and your laptop while reaching for your forehead in annoyance.

You walked over to your window to close your curtains, standing just inches away from Yeonjun who still wasn’t budging,

“He’s not a pervert.”

“How do you know that? You’re so fucking naïve sometimes I can’t-“

“Because it’s Soobin’s bedroom.” You say cutting him off, and that’s when Yeonjuns ears perked up with widened eyes followed by his mouth falling agape.

“Y’all peep at each other through the window?” he quietly asks with a mischievous grin on his face. “Oh my god, y/n. That’s so scandalous even for you.”

You laugh, shoving his arm which made him lose balance for a second before he stepped back to regain his composure. “I’ve…seen him a few times but he never seemed to notice me before. He’s pretty oblivious.”

“Really? What did you see?”

“….Nothing,” you say bashfully avoiding his stare as you looked at your feet.

“Oh, stop lying.” Yeonjun laughs.

He sat back down on your bed, giving you a coy smile. “Do you like him?”

“…I…” you thought about lying but honestly, if you knew anything about Yeonjun is that he’d keep your secrets to his grave. “Yes.”

He smiled a tender smile, looking at you with a certain sparkle in his eyes until he suddenly realized something as his face turned blank. “…He just saw us on the bed”

Your eyes widened “What…do you mean?”

“I’m pretty sure he saw us together, he might think we’re…”

“Not this again” you groan. “He already thought you were my boyfriend because you kissed me on the cheek at lunch?”

He blankly stared at you “…He thought we were dating because I kissed you on the cheek? What is this guy? A nun? I kiss everyone.”

“He’s definitely not a nun,” you mumble.

Yeonjun’s eyes lit up again, noticing how your body involuntarily shook at the memory.

“…What did you see,” Yeonjun says with playfulness in his tone, stepping closer to you to get answers out of you.

“Yeonjun, fuck off.”

“Oh my god just tell me, nothing ever happens in this boring town.”

You pause for a second, not knowing why you’re revealing this type of sensitive information but honestly, you were dying to talk about it with someone. “I saw him jack off,” you admit under your breath, biting your lip as you awaited Yeonjun’s response.

“OH MY GOD,” Yeonjun yelled, followed by an incoherent string of giggles as he doubled over to catch his breath. “You little shit, he’s not the pervert, you are!”

“Shut up.” You feel heat rise to your ears, which made Yeonjun laugh at your misery once more. “Oh, that’s amazing, I can’t wait until this fucking party of yours, what did you do when you saw it? Did you touch yourself?” he cockily asks licking his lips.

Your eyes widened in mild panic “You-” you took a step towards Yeonjun, practically standing inches away from him in hopes to intimidate him. “I will kill you if you tell anyone.”

“So it TRUE!? My god. Well, you don’t have to worry about that, you know me.” He winked at you, putting his hand on your shoulder.

Your mother who came home without you even noticing was standing at the door opening of your bedroom. She didn’t mean to pry, but when she walked over to the laundry room and saw you inches away from Yeonjun’s face she couldn’t help herself and stayed to lean on your doorpost.

“Hi kids,”

Her voice made the hairs on your necks stand up straight and you immediately distanced yourself from him.

“Yeonjun sweetie, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? What brings you here?” she asks. Once again she was skimpily dressed, which made Yeonjun hold eye contact with her for the life of him. You could tell he was fighting demons not to let his eyes wander to her chest.

“Oh…uh…a project.” He awkwardly scratched his neck, giving you a look.

“For what class? Sex ed?”

Noticing the sour and venomous look on your face, your mom put on a wide smile on her lips, casually laughing off her horrible joke. “I’m just kidding kids, eat first yeah? I brought dinner. There’s enough for everyone Yeonjun, you’re welcome to join.”

He was hesitant but given the look on your face that screamed please don’t leave me alone with her, he decided to stay.

Dinner actually wasn’t as bad, Yeonjun made himself lovable per usual and the two of you even facetimed Beomgyu so he could virtually join you for dinner. Your mom was acting weird as always but was uncharacteristically quiet throughout the whole thing. It’s like she was trying to figure out what was going on between the two of you.

After dinner, Yeonjun insisted on helping with the dishes, but since you needed a moment alone with your mom, you told him you were going to make you guys some coffee to get you two going throughout the night since you were going to have to pull an all-nighter anyway.

As you turned on your coffee machine, your mom wiped the counter, checking if Yeonjun was already on his way to your room. She gave you a look, snapping her fingers so you’d look at her which caught your attention.

“I don’t want you with that boy he probably has some form of chlamydia.” She says in a hushed yet concerned tone.

“MOM.” Even you were at a loss for fucking words at this point

“What? You know I love him, he’s been around since you were kids but…why can’t you date someone who’s cute and sweet like…like that Soobin guy from across the lot.”

“I’m not into Yeonjun, and he’s not into me. Now, please. Leave us be, we have a project to finish.”

“I just want what’s best for you.”

‘What’s best for me is if you’d just stay out of my business, even if I did like Yeonjun, you have no right to talk about him the way you just did. And stop pretending to know me, you’re never here anyway.”

You didn’t know where your snarky tone was coming from, but honestly, you were done with your mom’s popping in and out of your life with her judgment whenever she wanted. You were never really one to speak out against her, always just ignoring whatever she had to say but today you’ve quite literally had enough.

You grabbed your coffees and stormed upstairs, leaving your mom at a loss for words in the kitchen.

Soobin was headed out for an early morning jog to clear his head. His situation at home was worsening by the day. He kept being the subject of stupid fights between Isabelle and his dad, which made him snap at both of them during dinner. He hasn’t said a word to them since then and was dying to talk to someone about all of this.

Of course, you were the first person to pop into his mind, but he also wanted to respect your boundaries. Soobin was pretty sure that whatever was going on between you and Yeonjun was complicated enough for you to tell him that you weren’t dating so he was hesitant to even talk to you again.

Soobin turned the corner, taking a look at your house as he jogged to his own garage and that’s when he noticed your front door open. He stopped for a second, pretending to stretch and that’s when he saw Yeonjun walk out of your house at 7.30 AM.

Well fuck.

Yeonjun who was about to get in his car with a sleep-deprived blank facial expression suddenly woke the fuck up when he felt Soobin’s eyes on him.

Shit. What does he do? Things were already sus as is.

“Hey man.” Yeonjun greeted Soobin with a wave which made Soobin awkwardly wave back at him with a friendly smile on his face.

“You coming to her party tonight?” Yeonjun asks leaning against his car.

Soobin straightened out his posture, walking closer to Yeonjun so they didn’t have to yell across the lot to hear each other. “Uhm, I’m thinking about it.”

“Oh just come it should be fun, also bring anyone you like she won’t mind. I mean if that makes you feel better”

“Hmm?

“I-“ Yeonjun stopped himself for a second, realizing that came off wrong. “I mean, I’ll probably…invite someone too.”

“Okay? Cool…I mean I’ll think about it” he coughed, stretching his arms to then lie a nonchalant lie. “I’m pretty busy ya know. With the move and all.”

“Oh well…don’t be a stranger.”

Soobin squinted his eyes, not knowing if Yeonjun was testing him as your man or if he was just being nice. “Yeah, for sure.”

“Well, I’ll see you at school man,” Yeonjun says with a smile before getting into his car, leaving Soobin utterly confused before he jogged back to his house.

Overthinking was Soobin’s favorite sport, so that’s exactly what he did during his shower. Today was the day he was going to talk to you and subtly ask for clarification. He couldn’t just torture himself like this any longer.

Even if it was going to be awkward, He had to know for sure if you were actually in a relationship or not because he can’t just keep jacking off to images of you in his head like the pervert he is if you were actually taken. I mean he could, but he definitely shouldn’t.

His clean-cut conscience wouldn’t allow him to.

He made his way from the bathroom to his bedroom and got dressed rather quickly, he was in a rush but didn’t fail to notice that his AirPods were missing from his backpack. He sighed, rummaging around his room at lightning speed just to find them in the windowpane. “For fucks sake.” He huffed, walking towards the window to pick them up and that’s when…

“OH MY GOD.” He yelped, turning his back to the window as he squeezed his eyes shut.

He didn’t mean to look.

He didn’t.

But he definitely saw you.

In your fucking bra and panties.

You were lazily getting dressed in front of your mirror, your blinds were open because you had hoped to see Soobin but you hadn’t spotted him all morning. He basically sprinted out of his room without a second look, his heart racing incredibly fast by now. It didn’t even take 10 seconds before he made it out of his house and into his car, ready to speed off to campus.

Soobin was mentally mauling himself, catching a glimpse of you standing in front of your window to open it as he drove off, though he wasn’t sure if you saw him...

Soobin’s brain was doing backflips as he got to school. You were occupying every inch of his brain and dick for that matter.

There was no way Soobin was going to approach you after that ordeal. Absolutely no way.

He had a quick flashback of the mere second he saw you half-naked, that purple lace bra perfectly cupping your goods. He had to snap out of it quickly before little Steve would wake up in class. A boner is the last thing you need during your first week at a new college.

He didn’t mean to look, he really didn’t. But his brain was already making up doom scenarios of you thinking he was a pervert, or worse. fuck, how was he going to resolve this?

He immediately took a mental note to ask his dad about what was taking so long with the god damn custom blinds he ordered for Soobin’s room, though he didn’t have much time to think about it because someone was blocking his view.

“Hey.” Beomgyu smiled at Soobin, taking a seat beside him in the auditorium. Soobin fixed his posture from being slouched in his seat, clasping his fingers together instead of biting at his nailbeds, and proceeded to give Beomgyu a friendly smile. “Hey.”

“I didn’t know we shared this class together,” Beomgyu says excitedly which made Soobin faintly smile at how cute Beomgyu was.

“Are you coming to y/n’s party tonight?”

“Oh…uh…I don’t know.”

“What why? She really wants you to come.”

Oh…he’s not so sure about that right now. “Me? Why would she.”

Beomgyu looked at Soobin a little funny, wondering if he was actually that oblivious or if he was just playing dumb. But watching the two of you steal glances from each other during lunch and the constant ‘Soobin this, Soobin that’ conversations he had with you made him want to help push things in the right direction between the two of you.

“You’re kidding right?” Beomgyu says opening his notebook right before the lecture started.

“What?”

“It’s obvious you two are into each other.” Beomgyu shrugged, averting his attention from Soobin to the lecturer which made Soobin’s brain go into overdrive.

HUH?

A trillion different things were running through Soobin’s mind right now. Into each other? Meaning you’re not dating? Wait…was it that obvious to Beomgyu? Does that mean it’s obvious to you too?

Ugh. Now what.

You were making your way out of the lecture hall on the east side of campus, texting the group chat to ask for some assistance to set up for the party tonight. You sigh as you send the message, putting your phone in your back pocket and adjusted your tote bag on your shoulder as you walked towards your next class until you spotted a tall familiar figure in the distance.

It was Soobin, walking out of the lecture hall you had to be in with a lazy unamused strut. You raised your eyebrows, contemplating if you should go talk to him but before your brain could even process your thoughts, your legs were already speed walking towards him.

“Hey!” you catch up to him in no time, tugging at his arm from behind. He turned around in complete bewilderment, removing his AirPods from his ears in shock to see you standing there.

“Oh, hey y/n” he smiled at you awkwardly.

“Did you see?” you ask, cocking your head to the side.

“Huh, what? No. I mean…see what?” Soobin stumbled on his words, obviously thinking about seeing you practically nude this morning while trying his hardest to maintain eye contact before his eyes could wander to your chest.

You raise a brow, a smile tugging at your lips at how nervous he was being around you. “The invite to my party tonight. I sent it to you via text.”

“Oh! That, yeah I-uh I don’t-”

“No, come on. Just come. All you do is play games or scroll through your phone. I know it’s scary to meet all of these people but if not now then, when-”

He interrupts you this time. “Wait…how do you know that?”

“Huh,” Shit y/n. you and your big ass mouth. “Just a guess,” you lie.

“Right.” He raised his eyebrows in suspicion, starting to wonder if you were able to see him just as clearly as he was able to see you through your window.

You give him a playful shove to snap him out of his thoughts which made him immediately straighten out his posture. “I’ll come.”

Your eyes lit up, cutely clasping your hands together which made Soobin’s heart clench in his chest at the sight.

“Really? Okay, cool. I’ll see you tonight then.” You beamed at him which made him reciprocate your friendly smile. You quickly checked the time, realizing you were running late for your lecture, and hastily excused yourself before running off, leaving a jittery and suspicious feeling Soobin by himself.

“Is this where you want it boss?” Hueningkai asks you as he and Taehyun move your dinner table to the side to make more space.

You look over your shoulder while holding decorations for Beomgyu to attach to your ceiling giving them a satisfied nod. “Perfect.”

Beomgyu got down from the ladder as well, giving your head a quick pet before he found his red cup to take a sip of his beer. “Where’s Yeonjun?”

At that, the doorbell rang, which made Taehyun get up and waddle over to open it. It was Yeonjun and…someone else.

“Speak of the devil,” Beomgyu utters with a smirk.

“Hey babies, what did I miss,” Yeonjun says giving everyone a quick hug.

“Nothing, we’re still setting up, people should arrive in like 30 minutes,” Hueningkai states giving you a confused look after looking at the dude Yeonjun brought with him.

That’s definitely not the guy he told you guys about at lunch the other day.

“This is Changbin,” Yeonjun says introducing him to the bunch, you were sure everyone was thinking the same thing, which made you all seem a little uptight.

“Hi everyone.” Changbin smiled at all of you as he clung to Yeonjun.

“What happened to Felix?” Taehyun says with his unfiltered mind, making you hold your breath as you watch Yeonjun’s eyes widen. “I don’t know who that is,” he says rolling his eyes which made everyone snicker to themselves

“Okay, clear; let’s get you both something to drink.” You suggest leading them both to the table filled with bottles upon bottles of liquor. You gave your friends a quick confused look over your shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen with them.

Tae, Kai, and Beomgyu all looked at each other, bursting out in laughter.

“Pay up” Hueningkai cackles, pulling Beomgyu towards him by his shoulders. “I told you he moved on from the last one.”

“I didn’t think it could happen this quickly” Beomgyu moped, pulling a 20-dollar bill out of his wallet. Hueningkai snatched it from Beomgyu with an evil smirk, which made Taehyun laugh as well.

“Well,” Taehyun says raising his cup, making the others do the same. “Cheers to an even more eventful night.”

Soobin had a gift for running late, even if he lived right across from you he totally lost track of time as he was contemplating what to wear. The party was fully going judging by the cars lined up next to the driveway and the number of people that walked in and out of your home, he was sure the house would be packed by now. He stood in front of his mirror, adjusting the collar to his white button-up until he was satisfied.

Soobin bit his lip with anxiety and walked over to his window to close it, stopping for a second to look inside yours but the curtains were closed, making him sigh to himself.

He’s gonna have to find a way to get into your room to look out of your window to know for sure.

He left a light on near his bed and sped down the stairs, hastily grabbing his keys from the dinner table. He saw his dad in the living room, stopping himself to be a decent son for once and say goodbye.

“Hey, I’m heading out,” Soobin announces.

“Oh, that’s fine son,” His dad was on his phone, not really paying attention which made Soobin look around him.

“Where's Isabelle?” Soobin asked fidgeting with the keys in his hands.

“Girls trip.” His dad sounded bitter, making Soobin nod to himself, not asking any further questions. “Okay well…see ya.”

“Yes, have fun son,” he says making eye contact this time.

Soobin knitted his eyebrows together in concern as he put on his shoes, but decided not to really think about the way they have been arguing lately for the sake of having a good time tonight. He walked out of the house and towards yours. The front door was open so he let himself in, his eyes widening at the mayhem he was met with. He could already feel the bass of the music bounce off the walls from the entrance as chatter from at least a hundred people made his ears ring.

He hated parties but he had a mission, so he took a better look around this time.

People were chatting amongst themselves in their intoxicated little bubble, a few of them were dancing and the rest were immersed in different drinking games. His eyes were searching for you as he walked through the house and when he came into the familiar room of your kitchen/dining area his eyes widened even more. Yeonjun was fully making out with some dude on your kitchen counter.

Yeah, that’s definitely not your boyfriend.

“Ohhh shit, look who it is!” Beomgyu yelped drunkenly leaning on Soobin’s shoulder. “Here shot it.” Soobin couldn’t even resist as the shot glass was basically shoved past his lips. The gasoline-like liquid burned his throat as he swallowed it. Ew. Tequila.

He shook his head, his bunny lips flopping around. “You got something that tastes less abrasive?”

“You mean lemonade?” Beomgyu says trying to regain balance by himself after letting go of Soobin.

“No, like Soju.” Soobin chuckled, rolling his eyes. He couldn’t put his finger on it but Beomgyu was both annoying and lovable at the same time.

“It’s over there with the rest of the guys, come on; everyone’s dying to finally meet you.”

You were pulled in a hundred different directions. Everyone wanted to either film a TikTok with you or take pictures; so you didn’t have much time to breathe. By now Soobin had fully given in to your friend group. They were a lot more fun than he thought they were which made him mentally kick himself for not trying to befriend them sooner. It might’ve taken at least two bottles of Soju to loosen up, but at least it worked.

You stumbled into your living room, finally finding the time to breathe and that’s when you spot him sitting on the edge of the couch with a big smile on his face as he watched Taehyun and Beomgyu’s heated discussion about something random. He was holding a half-empty bottle of Soju as he grazed his fingers through his dark hair. His loose-fitted blouse was unbuttoned just enough to leave room for imagination. He was looking good enough to eat, licking his lips before attaching them to the bottle he was holding as he took a big chug of it.

Fuck. Frustrated was the only word to describe your emotional state because every single time you were able to lust over Soobin was with a good distance between the two of you. Literally.

“Oh y/n there you are.” Hueningkai beamed at you with a cute smile. Soobin’s ears perked up at the mention of your name and snapped his head in your direction.

Damn, you looked good.

“Can you tell them to stop arguing?” Hueningkai pouted, but you were too occupied with Soobin's hungry stare on your body and outfit to really pay attention.

“Y-yeah, stop arguing.” You say with zero conviction as you wave your finger in their faces, making Soobin pat the empty spot on the armrest of the couch when he noticed how you were holding eye contact with him, telling you to sit down next to him.

Beomgyu and Tae gave each other knowing looks, but Hueningkai was just lost at this point.

You sit down sideways, crossing your legs. “Are you having fun?” you ask Soobin whose gaze was still fixated on you. He nodded with an amused glint in his eyes as they wandered to your bare legs.

He was loving your skirt.

“You look really good.” He compliments you with confidence, flustering you in the process.

So, alcohol equaled confidence with this man. Noted.

“Thank you, so do you,” you shyly giggled.

“Go fuck already.” Beomgyu glared at both of you, which earned him a hard punch to his arm from Taehyun.

Your eyes grew as your ears heated up with embarrassment but you didn’t have much time to respond because you were already being called by someone else.

“Y/n baby, can you tell me where the other bottles are?” Yeonjun stood in the door opening motioning you to come hither with his index finger and your eyes immediately shot to Soobin’s in concern.

“I’m not his actual baby.” You clarified, which made Soobin’s lips curl up into a devious smile.

“I know. Don’t worry.” He patted your leg. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk, go on.”

You nodded at him, getting up rather clumsily as you stumbled over to Yeonjun who caught you right before you could trip over your own feet.

Soobin watched you disappear into your kitchen, taking another chug of his drink.

This is the perfect time to sneak up to your bedroom.

“I’m gonna go pee,” Soobin announces as he got up, making the guys nod at him in response.

“Okay, hurry back,” Beomgyu shouts after him.

Showing Yeonjun where the bottles were was a bad idea because he made you take at least 3 shots with him and Changbin for as far as you could count and on top of that it was like Soobin disappeared from the face of the planet.

You looked for him in the crowd and asked your friends who told you he left to pee and never came back. And to make matters worse, in your drunken state your house seemed at least twice as big as you searched every room except your own. You stand in front of your bedroom door, hesitating to open it.

There’s no way…right?

You hold your breath before twisting the doorknob, peeking your head through just to see him standing there, staring out of your window and into his own.

Oh…oh…shit.

“Soobin?” you had to check just to be sure because your vision was more than blurry right now.

He turned around with his arms crossed, squinting his eyes at you.

You couldn’t tell if he was pissed or not.

You close the door behind you, leaning against it as you erupt in silent drunken giggles. Pouting your lips forwards as he walked over to you.

“Well, the bags out of the cat, I mean, cat’s out of the bag.” You stutter incoherently.

He sighed with a smirk, shaking his head at you. “I knew it. You were a little too specific with your comment from this morning.”

You pout, crossing your legs, running your fingertips over his forearm, tracing the protruding vein that you were so attracted to. “You were too hot to look away.” You whisper, making him shudder in place, but he couldn’t let you take control just yet.

“You do know that window works both ways right?” Soobin smirked. “I see you too,” he whispered in your ear. Every single hair in your neck stood up straight as his deep voice did things to your entire nervous system. He had your legs become jelly as he backed you into the wall with his towering height, his hands trapping you on either side of the doorframe.

“S-soobin.” You were slurring your words in your drunken state, your brain not knowing how to make sense of the situation. This was your wet dream. But it wasn’t a dream.

Soobin’s gaze darkened upon hearing his name come out of your mouth in the form of a strained moan. He licked his perfect heart-shaped lips with a side smirk, brushing his hair out of his face to then create some distance between the two of you.

“I feel like you’ve been playing me a little too much.” He says as his fingers barely teased over the curve of your neckline. “I want you to know what it feels like to be that fucking frustrated.” He put some emphasis on his last words as his fingers ghosted from your neck to your chest. His fingertips barely even touched you as he hooked his digits through the strap of your tank top. Your skin was on absolute fire as you held your breath, not saying anything for the lack of finding the right words to say at the moment.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward but heated. You couldn’t quite explain it but both of you understood the immense tension that was building between the two of you. Soobin’s large hands moved to your waist as he suddenly adjusted you in place rather roughly, making you look at him with big doe eyes.

He loved the control he started to have over you, given the fact that it used to be the other way around. He then decided to take it a little further now that he had you exactly where he has imagined you to be ever since he met you. Submissive and beneath him.

“Did I leave anything to your imagination, or did you watch me cum that one night?” Soobin asks with confidence. His shy boy image was completely out the door now that he had you alone, and the three full bottles of Soju he emptied were of great help at feeding his ego.

You swallowed harshly as you tried to press your thighs together, making him chuckle lowly as he noticed a change in your body language.

“I’m…y-yeah.” You stutter.

“Now, that’s not fair.” He says sucking his teeth, his breath fanning your neck again as his lips got closer to your ear, his right hand taking a hold of your chin to force you to look up at him. “Soobin you’re driving me fucking crazy.” Your voice came out in a pained whisper as you felt the grip on your waist tighten.

“Good,” he mused, pulling at your bottom lip with his thumb, and that’s when you just about had it.

Your hands flew up to cup his face as you eagerly connected your lips to his, you were hungrily making out by now, articles of your clothing flying around the room until you were left in your undies and that purple lace bra he saw this morning. He basically threw you on the bed before taking his shirt off. You watched him like a hawk as he did, finally able to admire him from up close. You waited for him to climb on top of you as he grinds his clothed core onto yours to create the friction you both so desperately needed. You let out a few breathy moans, the sound edging him on to waste zero time with you. He proceeded to bury his face in between your tits, licking and sucking a trail back up to your neck, lazily kissing and nibbling on your skin as he fondled your breasts with his large hands.

You threw your head back as he looped his arm under your thigh, pushing your knee up to your chest, perfectly demonstrating how he’d bury his length deeply into you when the timing was right.

“Soobin, more.” You were desperate to have him touch you, but he clicked his tongue at you, giving your thigh a rough squeeze as he basically ripped your skirt off. “Be patient, you might’ve seen me naked already, but this is my first time seeing you so let me take my time yeah.”

His comment had you giggling at how cute and wrong it actually was at the same time. He wasn’t even making a big deal out of the whole I’ve been watching you through the window thing, if anything it kind of…turned him on.

“Shit.” He cursed as he pushed both of your knees up to your chest so he could have a full and unapologetic look at your glistening core as he slid your panties to the side, his mouth watering at the sight. Even though you were pretty confident, a position like this with your crush hungrily staring at your cunt would have even the most confident person in shambles. You tried closing your legs but he pushed them back open, giving you a confused look.

“Now you grow a conscience?” he smirked, licking his lips to then lower his face to your core. He kissed your inner thighs, making you shake in anticipation at how close he was to the place where you wanted him most.

“Your skin is so soft.” He mused, caressing your thighs as he positioned himself in between your legs, lazily kissing around your sex without actually coming in contact with it.

He was doing this on purpose and you knew it.

Soobin was making you feel how frustrated he has been all this time and wasn’t just going to reward you with stimulation this early on. Your hole was clenching around nothing as you felt his breath on your pussy, which has you groaning in torment as you laced your fingers in his silky brown locks. “S-stop teasing.”

“You’ve been having your fun with me, day in and out, watching me for your own pleasure without saying a word.” He shook his head and licked his lips before softly biting your inner thigh, making you squirm under him at the discomfort you felt. He grinned once more as he watched your body. “I think you deserve to be teased a little.”

He placed a kiss right on top of your pelvic bone before allowing you to shut your legs for a second. You watched him through hooded eyes as he started to play with the hem of your

panties, twisting it around his fingers to snap the elastic band back on your skin as he let go, followed by the stinging sensation at the point of contact. “Ah..” you moaned, turned on and confused at the same time cause no man had ever done that to you before.

“Like being toyed with?” He asks with a cocky smile, coming back up to look you in the eye. By now you had tears in your eyes, furiously shaking your head at his words. “No, No, I want you. I want you n-now.” You were pleading with him, putting on your best bambi-like ‘fuck me' eyes to get him to soften up and give you what you want but he just tutted his lips forward, shaking his head no which left you entirely too horny and well…pissed off at this point to keep your act up. “So needy and pathetic.” He degraded you, enjoying it a little too much.

Watching you squirm under his touch with every little thing he did was a fantasy becoming reality. He stood beside the bed, ghosting his fingers over your bare tummy, up to your breast to softly pinch your nipple. He softly smiled down at you, and your eyes traveled to the obvious bulge in his trousers, the image enough to make you pool down there more than you already were.

“Don’t you think they’re wondering where we are? Maybe we should head back…” he says lost in thought, trying to gauge your reaction with a slight smirk on his lips.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, furiously furrowing your eyebrows as you stare at him in disbelief. You grabbed one of his hands with both of your own, stopping him in his tracks before he could even attempt to leave you high and dry.

“Choi Soobin, if you don’t do something about the literal fire between my legs that you’ve ignited, then I will NEVER speak to you again.” You tried to sound firm, but your brain was mush by now.

He slowly lowered himself, kneeling beside you so he’d be on eye level with you, His left hand still holding onto yours as his right hand ghosted down your body once more. He was quiet, obviously pondering what to do next. You swore you were never this whiny, or desperate, but the tequila showed you otherwise “Soobin please, please stop teasing, I’ll do anything. Please.” You beg as you felt him push your panties to the side again, and that’s when his thumb finally rolled against your clit.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your stomach feeling jittery as your leg involuntarily twitched at the sudden sensation. “Right there?” he asks repeating his movements. You nod, burying your face in his arm as you squeeze his hand for dear life, but the action made him sigh. “Relax baby. It’ll feel better If you relax.”

“How the fuck am I supposed to relax, you’re…a literal menace,” you moan in between your sentence as his pace sped up. He grimaced, and you let go of him, letting yourself fall flat to your bed again. This time, however, he climbed back on the bed. Grabbing fistfuls of your hair, making you look down at your cunt with him as he made you rest your back on his knee. He was moving you around like a ragdoll, for him to control and play with.

“You like to watch right? So watch.” He demanded, inserting two of his large fingers into you without warning. You inhale sharply, a choked-out moan leaving your lips as he started to finger you with deep and fast strokes. You grabbed onto his forearm for a bit of leverage on reality as you watched his arm muscles and veins tighten with every thrust of his hand. He was too attractive. His mouth was watering at the sight as he kept his eyes on you, studying how your body moved and felt around him. He felt your wetness pool around his digits and was pretty sure that you were about to cum on his fingers.

You were completely domified by now, tears prickling the brims of your eyes as you couldn’t make sense of anything. You’ve never heard yourself moan this incoherently. Sounding nothing like yourself as he fastened his brutal pace some more. “Come on baby, come on. Just like that.” The palm of his hand was rubbing against your clit as he fingered you, alternating between friction and penetration in a perfect pattern.

“S-Soobin I’m-” Soobin was fighting you to keep you down with one hand as your body started to shock. You couldn’t even finish your sentence, your words getting caught in your throat as you finally let yourself go. Your thighs were trembling as you both panted loudly. He buried his face into your neck, sweetly pecking your lips to then place calming kisses in your neck to slowly bring you back to earth but you were still exhausted.

Shit, that orgasm was a whole exorcism.

Soobin’s shy demeanor returned shortly after, removing his fingers from your dripping hole in pure awe of what he just did to you. “Wow.” He muttered, rubbing his thumb against his index finger to spread around your slick on his digits but you caught him off guard when you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him tightly as you buried your face in his chest to hide how vulnerable you felt. He sweetly rubbed your back with one hand and massaged your thigh with the other in hopes to relieve some of the aches you were experiencing.

“Are you okay?” he asks, knitting his eyebrows together with concern.

You nodded with your face still buried in his chest, trying to regulate your breathing some more before looking up at him. His lips were glistening and swollen from all the kissing, his hair was a complete mess and his skin had a sex glow to it as he looked at you through hooded lids. He looked good enough to eat. More than usual.

You bashfully nod, giving him a shy smile that he reciprocated and sealed with a sweet peck on your soft lips but you pulled him down with you, fumbling with his belt to get it off of him.

He was surprised to know you still had it in you to go further, although he needed to know for sure. “y/n. you don’t have to return the favor-“

“Please, you’re doing me the favor here.” You huff, not caring how eager you seemed to him.

He snorted once you got his dick free from its confinements, gauging your reaction to his length springing free. “Shit.” You sit up, it’s even better in person. You gently grabbed it with both hands, and let a string of saliva fall from your lips and onto his dick to lubricate him some more.

He exhaled sharply, watching you like a hawk before he stopped you by grabbing your jaw. Soobin wasn’t sure how long he was going to last, but he had to make himself last inside of you for as long as possible.

“Blowjobs can wait.” He states, which earned him a confused look from you. “I mean, I need to be inside you as soon as possible.”

You giggled as he pushed you back down, taking one of your legs over his shoulder as he rubbed your slick between your folds with his tip. You closed your eyes in anticipation but he teased you like that a few more times before gently pushing himself into you.

You both moaned in unison, you could tell he was being careful but you were more than aroused enough to take him. “Shit.” he cursed once he was deep inside of you, feeling your walls clench around him oh so perfectly. He caressed your cheek, bending down to kiss your temple sweetly which actually surprised you.

It was a sweet gesture you didn’t anticipate. Maybe it’s because the basis of your relationship was built on lust…you didn’t even stop to think if it could become love at some point in the future.

“Hey.” You stop him for a second, which made him basically freeze in place. “What? Am I hurting you?” his face was ridden with concern but you quickly shook your head.

“This isn’t one of those one-time things where you go back to ignoring me right?” your eyes were big and insecure but it made Soobin feel relief somehow.

“What? No. Of course not.” He assured you, planting a kiss to your lips.

“This is just the start of it sweetheart.” He caressed your cheek again, and your lips curled into a soft smile.

“Well in that case...” You sit up, which earned you a confused look but you ignored him, proceeding to push him down on the mattress so you could climb on top of him this time.

“Where were we?” you say before leaning down to kiss him some more.

Still cock drunk and well, regular drunk; you try to discretely walk down the stairs with Soobin tailing behind you but everyone in that house knew exactly what you were up to.

Soobin looked at your behind, noticing how your skirt was ridden up, and quickly pulled it down, giving you a reassuring nod.

“Well. I see you’ve taken my advice.” Beomgyu says approaching you two.

“No.” you blatantly deny it, trying to sound sober.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Soobin tried with a side pout and an unconvincing frown, but Beomgyu could see through your bullshit. “Yeah, yeah. We’re almost out of drinks.”

You raise your brows. “Already?”

“Yeah, a lot more people showed up than we anticipated,” he shrugged with a pout.

Soobin sighed, leaning against the doorpost of the hallway entrance. “We can check my house? I’m sure we have some stuff laying around.”

“Your dad won’t mind?” you ask.

“I don’t think he’ll even notice,” Soobin says with an exhausted sigh, thinking about the situation back home. You noticed his drop in energy and took a mental note to ask him about it later. You grabbed his hand and laced your fingers through his, which earned you a shy smile from him. “I’ll come with.”

Beomgyu raised his brows at both of you with a side smirk. “Go on love birds,” he teases shooing you both away.

You didn’t know why but everything was extra funny to the two of you right now. Like two lovestruck teens you walked over to his house still hand in hand, giggling as you stumbled past his front door.

Soobin clasped his hand over your mouth from behind to stop you from waking his dad with your giggles, but it was of no use as he tripped over a pair of heels in the door opening. “Fuck.” You tried to muffle your laughter at his clumsiness and helped him up by his arm but both of you were alarmed by noises coming from the living room.

“Shhhh,” Soobin says pulling you into him as he placed a finger over his lips, signaling you to be quiet, which you cutely imitated.

Are those…moans he’s hearing?

Your eyes widen and you try to shake your head no. You were not about to walk in on his parents having sex. Absolutely not. But Soobin stood frozen on his feet with furrowed eyebrows, looking at the shoes he stumbled over. Even if you didn’t notice whose feet those high-ass heels belonged to, he sure did. Because Isabelle didn’t wear these types of heels. Ever.

Soobin looked at you with concern making you look back at him in distress, and that’s when the moans started to become louder.

“Let’s leave! What are you doing!?” You whisper, trying to pull him back out of the front door but he wasn’t budging, in fact, he walked straight past you and into his living room.

Is he insane?

You had a mini panic attack as you weighed the options on what to do in the next second. Do you run after him or run back to your house?

The little soberness left inside of you decided to run after Soobin judging by how upset he seemed and just as you passed the corner with him, you wish you hadn’t.

Because you saw your mom…on top of his dad…on the couch.

“MOM!?” “DAD!?”

You both shouted out in unison before turning around to stop seeing whatever was going on.

There is no fucking way this was really happening.

Part 2

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