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luvrseung · 6 months

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𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬

## pairing(s)! motorcycle driver heeseung! x yn!

## synopsis! yn's life takes an unexpected turn when she catches her boyfriend cheating on her and she meets the mysterious Heeseung, a captivating man on a motorcycle. After a brief yet memorable encounter, he vanishes, leaving her longing for more. Months later, they cross paths again. Yn's mixed emotions and Heeseung's determination do they have a happy ending?

## genre! not too bad angst, fluff at the end ! Idk dude I just work here

## wc! 8.9k

## warning(s)! cursing, and not much else?? but if u feel like there should be a warning for anything else, please let me know asap!!

## a/n! THIS IS MY LONGEST FIC EVER EVERRRRR. its currently 4:15 am as i post this and i have class at 11! hahaha.. anyways. inspo hit me like a truck... well, like a motorcycle HEHEHE. ahem.. okay. i hope you guys like this i really enjoyed writing it! please send me any feedback! mwah mwah i love uu i go sleep now! also pls don't mind any typos or errors im so delirious rn thank u bye bye

You step out of the dimly lit restroom, returning to the bar, only to find an empty seat beside you, where your boyfriend was seated just moments ago. His jacket remains draped over the backrest, a silent testament to his brief absence. Curiosity piques your interest as you assume he must have also ventured to the restroom. Settling in, you rest your head on your hand, elbow propped against the sleek bar, and survey the vibrant club that surrounds you. The music's thunderous pulse reverberates through your chest, infusing the air with almost a tangible energy. A sensual blend of alcohol and alluring perfumes weaves a heavy tapestry which fills your senses. In this tantalizing environment, the crowd is a dynamic kaleidoscope of movement and emotion—dancers, laughter, clinking glasses, tendrils of smoke swirling upward—each contributing to the sensory feast. Among the sea of passion and revelry, a singular couple draws your unwavering attention. Their fervent embrace seems to defy the boundaries of time and space, an intense kiss that hangs on the precipice of necessity. In an instant, your heart plummets, and the couple reluctantly disentangles from each other. As your gaze locks onto their faces, the unfolding revelation leaves you breathless.

As you rise from your barstool, your steps carry a mix of uncertainty and disbelief, drawing you inexorably toward the pulsating heart of the dance floor. The scene before your eyes demands confirmation, and what you find shatters your world in an instant. There, under the chaotic spell of the music's relentless rhythm, stands your boyfriend, now a stranger, locked in a passionate embrace with another woman. Her arms are a seductive snakily coil around the back of his neck, and their laughter mingles with the infectious beats of the music, now assaulting your ears as you reach the realization of betrayal. A concoction of emotions—upset, betrayal, and the intoxicating fumes of alcohol—swirl within you, drawing you forward as the heat crawls up your face and flows into the rest of your body. Your feet guide you through the trembling beat, and, with a burst of fiery rage, you confront the pair. In an act of defiance and heartbreak, your open palm collides with your now ex-boyfriend's cheek in a resounding slap, the sound lost in the under the booming music that fills the club. The mysterious girl, who moments ago was dancing with him, stumbles back, her face etched with shock and disbelief. With your wounded pride, you retreat to the sanctuary of the bar. A final shot materializes before you, its amber contents beckoning with an illusory promise of numbness. You down the drink with the recklessness and no caution, the burn in your throat eclipsed by the feeling of your shattered heart.

You inform the bartender with a casual wave that the responsibility for the bill rests with the man you arrived with, an excuse that offers a semblance of dignity as you navigate your unsteady exit from the bar's confines. The city's nightlife swirls around you, a vivid blanket of neon lights and indistinct conversations. Perched on the curb outside the bar, you release a heavy, audible sigh that seems to resonate with the depth of your emotions. The exasperated "pfft" escapes your lips as you dismissively mutter, "What a waste." you recline, propping yourself up on your arms behind you, while your gaze ascends towards the night sky. It's as if you're summoning the attention of a god you don't even believe in, the stars and the moon bearing witness to your turmoil. Unbidden tears begin to well in your eyes, forming glistening pools that threaten to overflow. Yet, in a strange paradox, laughter bubbles up from within your heavy chest, as if mocking the absurdity of the situation. "He made a mistake… losing me? How stupid," you whisper to yourself, the words a bittersweet blend of self-affirmation and ironic amusement. Your tears, now fallen, trace glittering paths down your cheeks, their journey reflecting the city's glimmering lights. You cast your gaze downward, scrutinizing your ensemble—a striking red dress that billows around you, paired with towering, sleek black heels. In that moment of reflection, you realize that it was not you who was lost; it was him. Your attire serves as a poignant reminder that you are a treasure to be cherished, a realization that strengthens your resolve even as tears continue to fall.

Amid the quiet solace of your unspoken sorrows, the sudden roar of a motorcycle's powerful engine reverberates through the air, and your attention is instinctively drawn to the source. With a magnetic allure, the motorcycle glides to a stop not far from your lonesome, commanding your undivided focus. You study the machine as if decoding a riddle; its lustrous body gleams in pristine white, a stark contrast to the glinting silver rims of the wheels. The interior and seats, ensconced in shadowy allure, exude an air of enigmatic sophistication, cloaked in inky blackness. Seated astride this mechanical masterpiece is a man who embodies a paradox of rugged elegance. He possesses a commanding yet lean figure, an epitome of grace and strength that defies the bounds of convention. Draped in a formidable, protective black jacket, his attire is sending your brain into a frenzy. Fitting black jeans encase his legs, while black gloves envelope his hands with a subtle promise of concealed purpose. Each step echoing an aura of intrigue, he dons a pair of black Doc Marten boots, their resolute presence amplifying his enigmatic appeal. Atop the mysterious man’s figure sits a gloss-black helmet, its contours hinting at the mysteries that lie beneath.

With deliberate grace, he lifts the helmet from his head, revealing a crown of luxurious, dark purple locks. Your astonishment lingers in the air, and you can't help but be drawn to the allure of this captivating stranger. To call your fascination mere curiosity would be a gross understatement. Each of his features appears meticulously crafted, from his silver-clad ears adorned with earrings, to a proud and tall nose, and his eyes—those big beguiling orbs that seem to harbor a pool of secrets within. It's a visage that commands attention, the embodiment of an elusive charm that ignites your every sense. In a moment of serendipity, your eyes meet, the spark of connection bridging the gap between strangers. He saunters toward the store adjacent to the bar, a fleeting look of mischief dancing in his eyes. A playful wink and an enigmatic smile are cast in your direction, a wordless invitation that beckons with a magnetic pull. He dismounts from his motorcycle with an elegance that mirrors the grace of a dancer, setting the helmet upon the seat . As he disappears into the depths of the store, the intoxicating combination of your inebriation and the fragile state of your emotions conspire to form a whimsical yet irresistible decision. It's a gravitational force that leaves you with no choice but to step into the store and follow the purple-haired enigma, your heart beating in time with the uncharted journey that awaits.

As the convenience store door chimes melodically with your entry, a tingle of excitement courses through the air. The purple-haired enigma, the pull of destiny that brought you here, stands before you, a magnetic presence that seems to command every aisle. His striking figure exudes an aura that is both electrifying and tantalizing, and you can't help but gravitate toward him. With fluid grace, he reaches into the fridge to retrieve a drink, his movements a mesmerizing dance of confidence. You approach, and behind the cool, glass refrigerator door, your eyes lock in a seductive connection. He acknowledges your presence with a sultry smile that ignites the room. With an air of unshakable self-assuredness, you compliment his sleek motorcycle, your words laced with a smoldering charm. His response is a flirtatious grin, and as he rises to his full, towering height, he gazes down upon you, a titillating hint of promise in his eyes. "Thanks, ever been on a bike before, pretty girl?" he inquires, the huskiness of his voice sending electric shivers down your spine. Butterflies flutter wildly in your stomach as his words hang in the air. You return the provocative banter, testing the waters of this intriguing encounter. “Is this an invitation mr……?.”

“Heeseung. Lee Heeseung.” He introduces himself with a name that rolls off his tongue like a forbidden secret—Lee Heeseung. His playful response drips with allure, and you find yourself ensnared in the the moment. "And maybe it is an invitation… if you're willing to accept, Miss …..”? Your own name tastes sweeter than ever on your lips as you tease him with a hint of coyness, “Yn. Y/ln Yn. And why should I Lee?” Heeseung's perceptive eyes dart to the mascara-stained traces of tears on your face, his gaze tracing the invisible scars etched upon your soul. He tenderly points to your head, his words laden with a quiet understanding. "Judging by the mascara-stained tears on your face, I think a ride would fix whatever troubled that pretty little head of yours." A shy smile dances upon your lips, your heart pounding with a mixture of vulnerability and courage. "Got an extra helmet, then?" You say as acceptance to his offer. Heeseung's smirk deepens, his voice dripping with a seductive promise. "Good girl. Of course I do. You never know who needs a good ride." The air crackles with the electrifying energy of an adventure about to unfurl, as you and Lee Heeseung step into the thrilling unknown, united by the allure of the night.

In one hand, he clutches a tall, foreboding can of Monster energy drink, its vibrant, neon label a stark contrast to the other hand, which cradles a diminutive yellow box adorned with the endearing label "banana milk." The curious combination of his selections hints at the multifaceted personality of the man who has now become your enigmatic companion. With the transaction complete, the two of you emerge from the convenience store, and Heeseung extends a seemingly casual but unmistakably thoughtful gesture—offering you the little yellow box of banana milk. You accept it with a raised eyebrow, your curiosity piqued. "How'd you know I liked this, Lee?" you inquire, your voice touched by intrigue. A mischievous smile graces Heeseung's lips as he leans in a bit closer, and his response dances on the edges of flirtation, causing the butterflies in your stomach to stir with newfound hunger. "Pretty girls, like you, like banana milk," he teases, his words delivered with an artful charm that sends a shiver of excitement coursing through you. Grateful for his gesture, you return the enchanting smile, the air thick with an electrifying tension. As you both make your way toward the magnificent motorcycle that had initially captivated your attention, anticipation courses through your veins, setting your body aglow with excitement. You stand behind Heeseung, observing his every move with eager eyes. With practiced ease, he opens a concealed compartment at the back of the bike, revealing a second helmet that bears a striking silver star on either side. It's a unique touch that adds to the enigma of the man before you. Heeseung places your drinks within the compartment, where the second helmet once resided. With a smooth and assured motion, he secures the compartment and then offers you your designated helmet, a symbol of the adventure you're about to embark on together. As you accept the helmet from his hand, the magnetic connection between you deepens, and the night unfolds with the promise of thrilling secrets yet to be unveiled.

With the banana milk safely stowed and the helmet now snug upon your head, the night holds an air of mystery and excitement as you both approach the waiting motorcycle. Heeseung's slender frame moves with grace as he swings a leg over the sleek, white machine. He turns toward you, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sends an electric pulse through your veins. "Make sure you hold on, doll," he says, his voice dipped in a heady blend of charm and raw anticipation. His words are laced with a promise of thrilling adventure, and your heart skips a beat as you grasp the significance of this moment. You eagerly position yourself behind him, forgetting all about your ex boyfriend and the events that took place before. your arms wrapping around his lean waist, fingers instinctively clutching the fabric of his black jacket. The powerful engine roars to life beneath you, its growl a primal invitation to the night. Heeseung's gloved hands deftly manipulate the handlebars, and in an exhilarating surge of acceleration, you both glide out of the convenience store's parking lot and onto the main road. The world becomes a mesmerizing blur of vibrant colors and lights as the motorcycle snakes through the city's labyrinthine streets, framed by beautifully illuminated buildings that reach skyward, a testament to humanity's creativity. The cool night air rushes over you, and the city's pulsating energy envelopes you, offering an intoxicating taste of freedom and escape. As the wind whips through your hair, and the city's mesmerizing lights create a captivating painting, you can't help but feel that you've stepped into a dream. With every twist and turn, Heeseung's driving skill reveals itself, and you're reminded of the harmony between man and machine. In this exhilarating dance through the heart of the city, you're not just a passenger; you're a partner in a thrilling adventure, bound by the allure of the night and the enigmatic man who now shares it with you.

As the motorcycle effortlessly weaves through the city's enchanting streets, Heeseung's lean frame seems to meld with the machine, and you can sense his exhilaration in the subtle movements and graceful leans. Every curve and twist of the road is navigated with a fluidity that suggests an intimate understanding between rider and ride. The city's lights create a dazzling panorama around you, and you revel in the symphony of sensations that surrounds you. After what feels like an eternity of blissful exploration, the first hints of daylight begin to break on the horizon, casting a soft, golden glow upon the cityscape. It's a bittersweet reminder that this enchanting ride must eventually come to an end. With a quiet understanding, Heeseung steers the motorcycle to a stop in front of your home, and the engine's growl reluctantly gives way to the stillness of the early morning. As you dismount the bike, you can't help but feel a mixture of gratitude and a hint of longing for the adventure that has brought you closer. Heeseung turns toward you, his eyes holding a sparkle that mirrors the city's lights. "I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I did, pretty girl,” he says, his voice a blend of sincerity and allure. "I did enjoy it, lee.” Your eyes lock onto his, and you can't resist a teasing smile. "I have to admit, I'm not sure if it was the city or the company that made it so enjoyable." He chuckles softly, his gaze lingering on you. "Perhaps it's a bit of both. I hope I made you forget what you were crying about earlier.”

With an air of anticipation, Heeseung closes the enchanting gap between you, his footsteps a playful dance that mirrors the rhythm of your heart. You find yourself drawn closer to him, a mix of curiosity and desire, hoping for a kiss that promises to be electric. But Heeseung, ever the tease, surprises you by gently capturing your hand in his gloved grasp. His lips brush against your knuckles, leaving behind a soft and lingering kiss that sends a thrill down your spine. A mischievous sparkle dances in his eyes as he takes a step back, though his hold on your hand remains. A mischievous smirk plays upon his lips as he takes a step back, and your hands, still intertwined, reluctantly part as the space between you expands. but the connection between your souls remains undeniably strong. Heeseung places your helmet back into the motorcycle's compartment, his every motion a graceful symphony of closure, yet the moment is still heavy with the sweet ache of parting. He retrieves the little yellow box of banana milk, and with a look that speaks of unspoken promises and possibilities, he adds to the enchanting ambiance. As you turn away to make your way inside, your heart swells with emotions, and it's then you hear his voice, soft and filled with affectionate playfulness, "Heads up, princess!" Your head snaps around, your eyes locking onto Heeseung seated on the motorcycle, revving the engine with a fervor that mirrors the passion between you. With a flourish, he tosses the banana milk to you, and you catch it . Your heart flutters like a love-struck bird, and you're left standing there, watching the back of his retreating figure with eyes filled with longing. As the cold morning air surrounds you, you're reminded of the warmth and excitement that has filled this magical night. With a heart full of happiness, you finally turn to head inside.

In the cozy sanctuary of your home, you close the door behind you with a gentle sigh, leaning against it as you bask in the afterglow of this night. The memories of what transpired outside are like a symphony of emotions playing in your heart, each note resonating with the tender and profound love that has blossomed between you and Heeseung. The room envelops you in its intimate embrace, illuminated by the soft, warm glow of the night. As you lean against the door, the walls seem to hold the echoes of the moments shared, and you're overcome by a sense of profound romance that fills the very air you breathe. The night was a love story written in the stars, a story of two souls drawn together by destiny and fueled by a love that's destined to endure. Despite breaking every single rule of stranger danger, you wish this night couldve lasted forever.

As you ascend the stairs to your room, a sense of contentment and longing accompanies you. The banana milk, a sweet reminder of an unforgettable night, finds its place on your bedside table, a silent guardian of your dreams. The room envelops you in its cozy warmth, the atmosphere carrying the residual fragrance of romance and adventure. In the dim light, you prepare for a soothing shower, letting the cascading water wash away the remnants of the night. Your thoughts, however, remain tethered to the enigmatic Lee Heeseung. Questions and desires swirl within your mind, like a gentle storm of emotions.

After the warmth of the shower, you don your pajamas from the night before, their familiarity a source of comfort as you slip between the soft sheets of your bed. Your body, tired but satiated, yearns for rest, yet your heart and mind remain restless, still inextricably tangled in the enchantment of the night. Thoughts of him, like whispers in the night, dance through your mind. "When will I see him again?" and "I wish we had exchanged information" echo in the chambers of your thoughts. Who is this mysterious man, Lee Heeseung, who has touched your heart so deeply? The unanswered questions propel you to flip open your phone, your curiosity overriding the myriad missed calls and texts from your unfaithful ex-boyfriend. Instagram becomes your portal to seek out the enigma named Lee Heeseung.

A sense of disappointment settles over you as your search on various social media platforms yields nothing. Lee Heeseung remains a ghost, elusive and untraceable in the digital realm. It's as if he exists only in the echoes of your memories, and the absence of any digital footprint only adds to his mystique. In your moment of quiet contemplation, a yearning for his presence intensifies. The desire to see him again, to unravel the enigma that is Lee Heeseung, becomes an undeniable ache within you. The thought that he knows where you live, and the lingering memories of your night together, offer a glimmer of hope that he might return. The idea that fate might bring you two together once more fills your heart with anticipation and longing. As you close your eyes and surrender to the night's embrace, you can't help but wonder when the stars will align, and the mysterious Lee Heeseung will reappear in your life.

As days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, the longing in your heart grew stronger. Spring had arrived, heralding the return of life and the vibrant colors of the world, yet it also marked the lingering absence of Heeseung, the man who had swept into your life as quickly as a shooting star and vanished just as abruptly. Every motorcycle that whizzed past you on the bustling streets of your city drew your attention like a magnet. A spark of curiosity ignited within you, and the questions were ceaseless. "Was that him? Does he still think of me?" These thoughts had woven themselves into the very fabric of your existence, haunting your every moment. The memories of that unforgettable night had become a bittersweet symphony that played on a loop in your mind.

Despite the love and support of your incredible friends, your loving family, and a fulfilling job, the void Heeseung had left in your life persisted. The allure of "what could've been" weighed heavy on your heart, like a melody left unfinished, a dance cut short, or a love story left untold. In the midst of your everyday life, the longing for the man named Lee Heeseung never waned. Your heart carried the echoes of his touch, the memory of his gaze, and the whispers of a love story that had never fully unfurled. With every passing day, your desire for his return only intensified, like a fire that refused to be extinguished.

It was a typical Tuesday, just like any other weekday, as you made your way into the bustling work building, greeted by the friendly faces of your coworkers who had also become your cherished friends. Jake, ever the playful one, couldn't resist bringing up the topic of your elusive Heeseung. "How are you, YN? Still no luck with this Heeseung guy?" he inquired with a mischievous glint in his eye. You let out a dramatic sigh, a playful air of exasperation in your response. "Unfortunately, no, Jake. Trust me, I would've told you if I had any news," you said with a chuckle. Jay, another dear friend of yours, joined the conversation, bringing with him a delightful surprise in the form of coffee for both you and Jake. With a comforting smile, he chimed in, "Don't worry, Ynnie, maybe he lives in a different town and was just there that night for you!" You couldn't help but offer an appreciative grin in response to Jay's attempt at comfort. His words were like a warm embrace, reassuring you in your quest for answers. Then, a new proposal surfaced, and it was Jay who initiated it. "Oh, by the way, Jake and I found out that there's been underground racing events in our city. We've been meaning to check it out. Wanna come with?" At first, you hesitated, but Jay's persuasive nature quickly took hold. "C'mon, YN!" Jake chimed in, adding his own brand of playfulness. "It'll be fun! Who knows, maybe you'll find Heeseung there! … or a different cute motorcycle guy at least." You let out a laugh that admitted defeat. "Okay, okay, I'll check it out with you guys. But if it's boring, you're buying me a burger." Jay quickly agreed to the wager. "Fine. Deal. But it won't be boring!" he declared with unwavering enthusiasm. "Mhm, we'll see," you replied with a sly grin, anticipating the playful adventures that lay ahead with your close friends, all while hoping that amidst the thrills of underground racing, you might find the one you longed for – or perhaps, something equally captivating.

As the workday drew to a close, you bid your colleagues and friends farewell, exchanging a series of cheerful goodbyes and promises to reconvene tomorrow. Last in line to receive your parting words were your friends, and it was Jake who left you with a playful reminder. "We'll pick you up at 10, ynnie~,” he declared with a mischievous glint in his eye. Your response was a melodious giggle as you affectionately ruffled his hair, a signal of your confirmation.

Once home, the weight of the day's responsibilities dissipated like a passing storm. Shoes were unceremoniously discarded, your bag and jacket flung haphazardly onto the floor, and with a contented sigh, you sank into the inviting embrace of your couch. Retrieving your phone, you embarked on a determined quest to research the underground racing scene, the glimmer of hope in your chest steadily growing brighter with every tap of your fingers.

The prospect of possibly encountering Heeseung again ignited a certain spark in your eyes, a fire of desire that refused to be extinguished. Yet, much like the elusive enigma of the man himself, your online investigation yielded no information about these races. It was as though the world had conspired to keep their existence hidden, a fitting scenario for events that were undoubtedly illegal. As you set your phone aside, your thoughts began to spiral in a torrent of what-ifs. What if Heeseung is there, but his interest had always been elsewhere? What if he's not present? What if he doesn't even notice you? These unceasing questions threatened to consume your mind, and you shook your head, as if such an act could dispel these relentless thoughts. Determined to quell the storm of uncertainties that raged within you, you took a deep breath and resolved to face the night with unwavering optimism.

With the plan in place, you had agreed that the guys would hang out at your place before the big race. Jake and Jay, after their workday, rushed home, got dressed for the evening, and then made their way to your doorstep around 7:30. You swung open the door in your comfy pajamas, greeting the duo with warm hugs and bright smiles. "Alright, guys," you chimed in, "I'm going to get ready now. You said we're leaving at 10, right?" They both confirmed your question with a nod, and you headed upstairs to prepare for the night ahead. As you left the living room, the two friends made themselves at home, lounging comfortably on your couch and taking charge of the TV. The anticipation for the evening ahead filled the air, and the sense of camaraderie between the three of you was a reassuring presence, setting the tone for the exciting adventure that lay just around the corner.

Upstairs in your room, you embarked on the grand battle that is getting ready for a night out. The soft glow of your vanity mirror cast a warm light on your determined face as you transformed your appearance for the evening. Your makeup was an elegant fusion of dark and bold, with a smoky eyeliner that accentuated your eyes and a luscious dark red lip gloss that heightened the allure of your lips. The result was a striking look that suited your features beautifully. You took a few moments to curl the ends of your hair, creating soft, cascading waves that reached down to your lower back. These curls were swept up into a high, sleek ponytail, with two delicate strands left loose to elegantly frame your face. Your outfit had been meticulously selected, not only with Heeseung in mind but also with the exciting prospect of possibly meeting someone new at this enigmatic race. Dark red leather pants, designed to hug your curves in all the right ways, were paired with a lace black tank top, adding a touch of sensuality to your ensemble. To complete the look, you adorned yourself with a black and white leather jacket that draped over your shoulders like whipped cream on a tantalizing sundae. In your full-length mirror, you admired the reflection of a confident and captivating woman, well aware of her own allure. A pair of sleek black boots adorned your feet, and you accessorized with a silver necklace featuring a delicate pendant and matching earrings, adding a touch of sophistication to your ensemble. To crown your transformation, you picked up your favorite perfume bottle, and with each spritz, a beautiful aroma enveloped you like a fragrant embrace. The battle of getting ready was won, and you felt like a queen in your own right. With a final glance in the mirror, you knew you looked stunning and were ready to face whatever the night had in store. With your purse in hand, you headed downstairs, prepared to join your friends who were patiently waiting for you.

"DAMN YN!" Jay and Jake exclaimed in unison as you descended the stairs, the sight of your stunning transformation leaving them momentarily breathless. A beaming smile graced your lips as their admiration washed over you. "Thank you, boys," you replied with a gracious nod, giving them a playful twirl to showcase your meticulously chosen outfit. "Do I look good?" you asked, a hint of playful teasing in your voice. "You know you do," Jay responded with a smile, but he was eager to get going. "Now, let's get moving! It's nearly 10:15." You waved off his concern with a nonchalant chuckle. "Oh, please, there's no way these things start right on time. We're fine. Now, let's make a quick stop at the convenience store so I can get a banana milk, pretty please~" you added with a hint of irresistible charm. The two boys, who had been lounging on the couch, rose from their seats with mock exasperation. Jake couldn't help but mutter a resigned, "Yes, ma'am…" as you playfully led the way, heading into the car where you sat in the backseat.

With a refreshing banana milk tucked safely in your purse, courtesy of Jake's wallet, the three of you arrived at the underground racing event. The venue was located beneath a highway bridge in an area you never even knew existed. you were struck by the sheer scale of the place, surrounded by towering structures that seemed to stretch to the heavens. This perspective, seeing the world from a unique angle, made you feel small in the grand scheme of things, a humbling realization that added to the aura of the night. Lost in your contemplation, you were momentarily unaware that Jay and Jake had already exited the car, with Jake gallantly holding the door open for you. He playfully addressed you, "Here we are, princess," and you responded with a light, affectionate hit on his arm, chuckling, "Oh, cut it out, Jaeyun." A playful exchange of names ensued between the two friends as you headed toward the gathering crowd at the starting line, eagerly awaiting the start of the race. You surveyed the bikers as they lined up in their positions, and your attention was drawn to a particular rider who was surrounded by a group of enthusiastic women. The throng of admirers made it difficult to see his face clearly, but you couldn't help but wonder if it might be Heeseung.

The announcer's voice crackled over the radio, calling on the racers to mount their bikes and prepare for the thrilling competition. Jay and Jake signaled that it was time to find your seats, with Jake instinctively taking your hand to guide you and ensure you didn't get lost in the bustling crowd. As you were led to the front row, you couldn't help but scan the racers one last time. The colorful array of bikes and their determined riders filled the scene with an air of excitement. But then, at the far end, you spotted a white bike, and your heart skipped a beat. Could it be Heeseung's bike? The memories of him came rushing back, and you pointed it out to your friends. "Wait, guys, that might be Heeseung's bike," you mentioned, your voice tinged with both hope and anxiety. Jake and Jay exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern. "You think so, YN?" Jay asked, offering a glimmer of doubt. "Maybe it's just a guy with the same motorcycle color as Heeseung, Ynnie. I mean, white bikes aren't that uncommon, right?" Jake reasoned, trying to provide a rational explanation. You shook your head, a familiar gesture you used to clear your thoughts. "Yeah, Jakey, you're probably right. I mean, I haven't seen him in months. It can't be him," you replied, trying to convince yourself as much as your friends. You felt a surge of anxiety but decided to push those thoughts aside and focus on enjoying the race. With the comforting presence of your banana milk, you took a sip and leaned back, hoping that this night would be an adventure to remember, regardless of the outcome.

As the man on the radio commenced announcing the racers' names, an air of anticipation enveloped the crowd. With each name called out, a symphony of revving engines filled the air, punctuated by cheers and applause from the spectators. The excitement was palpable, and you joined in, clapping and cheering for each racer. However, as the announcer neared the end of the line of racers and you waited with bated breath, you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. The name you had been hoping to hear, "LEE HEESEUNG," didn't make an appearance. Instead, the announcer declared, "And last but not least, our reigning champion, ACE!" A sigh of regret escaped your lips, revealing your unspoken hope. You observed that the crowd cheered enthusiastically for this "Ace" character, understanding why he had garnered a legion of female admirers. The sense of anticipation still coursed through your veins, but you decided to put aside your initial disappointment and immerse yourself in the exhilarating atmosphere of the race, hopeful that the night would hold some surprises, even if Heeseung's name was absent from the list of competitors.

Snapping you out of your thoughts, Jake directed a question to both you and Jay, inquiring, "Who are you guys rooting for?" Jay was quick to respond, his eyes bright with enthusiasm. "I'm rooting for the guy named Jungwon on that bright blue bike. He seems like an underdog, you know?" Jake couldn't resist poking fun at Jay's choice. "So cheesy," he remarked, provoking Jay to playfully flip him off. Turning to you, Jake's curiosity was evident in his expression as he asked, "What about you, YN?" You pondered for a moment, a mischievous glint in your eye as you gave your answer. "Hmm, maybe that Sunghoon guy, on the black bike. He seems hot," you added, punctuating your response with a giggle. Jay shook his head in mock exasperation, but he couldn't hide a smile. "I'm not even surprised." As the three of you continued to chat and enjoy the electric atmosphere, the announcer's voice broke through, "RACERS, START YOUR ENGINES!" The crowd erupted into cheers, blending with the powerful roar of the motorcycles.

"READY…SET…GO!" The announcer's command was met with a symphony of revving engines, and in an instant, the racers sped off on the manmade track, weaving between the imposing pillars of the bridge above. The sound of the engines and the fervent cheers from the crowd captivated you, and your gaze remained fixed on the racers as they disappeared into the distance, the race now in full swing.

The race unfolded with an intoxicating blend of speed, skill, and sheer adrenaline. The racers zipped around the tight corners and weaved through the narrow gaps between the bridge's pillars, their powerful machines roaring like wild beasts. The air was filled with the intoxicating scent of gasoline and burnt rubber, adding to the sensory overload that engulfed the crowd. The race was paired with commentary by the announcer, “In the lead is ace! Are we surprised? That white bike is a godsend!”

As the racers maneuvered with lightning precision, the crowd couldn't help but be entranced by the sheer spectacle before them. Spectators cheered as their chosen favorites powered through the track, and collective gasps echoed through the audience whenever a close call or a daring move occurred. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the shared excitement of everyone in attendance. Another comment was made by the announcer, “Woah! Look at jungwon pulling through and passing ace on his left! Will this be the first race he wins?”

“I told you guys. Always root for the underdog,” Jay chimes, but your eyes are glued to sunghoon and his black bike.

Amidst the collective fervor, you found yourself mesmerized, your eyes locked onto the racers as they sped past. The world outside the race ceased to exist for those moments, and you were drawn into the raw energy of the event, feeling the vibrations of the engines in your chest and the rush of the wind in your hair. “Here come’s sunghoon! Passing jungwon on his right, and making his way towards the finish line!” Says the announcer.

The announcer's voice crackled through the speakers, adding to the electrifying atmosphere. "WOAH, WOAH!! HERE COMES ACE RIGHT BEHIND SUNGHOON! WHO WILL WIN? THE TWO ARE SIDE BY SIDE, WILL IT BE A TIE? THE FINISH LINE IS RIGHT THERE, AND… ALMOST A PHOTO FINISH! BUT THE WINNER OF THE RACE IS SUNGHOON!"

As the crowd erupted in joyous celebration, the cheers of the spectators seemed to reverberate in perfect harmony with the racing engines. You were swept up in the excitement, joining the chorus of voices, and even rising to your feet as you cheered for Sunghoon, the victor of the race. The thrill of witnessing such a close contest was invigorating, and you couldn't help but be caught up in the jubilation around you. With a playful tone and a hint of what-ifs, you turned to your two friends and exclaimed, "Damn, we should've bet on it. Missed opportunity!" The boys laughed along with you, the infectious joy of the moment drawing them into the celebration. Together, you stood and cheered for Sunghoon, basking in the shared experience of witnessing an extraordinary race and its exhilarating conclusion.

The exhilarating atmosphere of the race drew you, Jay, and Jake, along with the rest of the crowd, to approach the racers as they dismounted their bikes. The audience showered the racers with an array of cheers and encouraging words, from "good job!" to "you'll win next time!" to admiring comments about their impressive machines. As you and your friends navigated your way through the dispersing crowd, you found yourselves face to face with Jungwon, the racer who had been your friend Jay's underdog favorite. Eager to express your admiration, you initiated the conversation, addressing him with warmth, "Hey, Jungwon, right? You were so cool! I thought you were gonna win for a second there!" Jungwon's face lit up with gratitude, and he replied with a sincere smile, "Thank you so much! I thought so too, but I had nooo chance against Ace and Sunghoon." Jay, ever the enthusiast, extended a firm handshake in that classic man-to-man fashion. "Bro! I was rooting for you from the start. You'll see me at the next race," he proclaimed with enthusiasm, earning a "thank you" from Jungwon. With that, the three of you moved on to the next racer, Sunghoon, eager to share your appreciation with the winner.

Sunghoon leaned casually on his sleek black bike, a striking figure with an air of confidence that immediately caught your attention. Up close, you couldn't deny how incredibly handsome he looked, and you were taken aback by his allure. Summoning your courage, you approached the winner, introducing yourself in a soft, friendly tone, "Hi Sunghoon, I'm YN. Congrats on the win, handsome." The compliment had its intended effect, and Sunghoon's eyes focused on you. "Well, hello, Miss YN. Nice to meet you," Sunghoon responded with a smirk, revealing a sharp canine tooth and a dimple that sent a shiver down your spine. You felt yourself blushing in response to his charm. Sunghoon's flirtatious banter continued as he inquired, "You were rooting for me, pretty girl?" He leaned in a little closer, his voice dripping with playful seduction. You met his flirtatious challenge with a sly smile. "Maybe… maybe not," you replied, adding a teasing playfulness to your tone. He feigned disappointment, a twinkle in his eye as he teased, "What a shame, I was gonna offer you a ride." Playing along, you flirtatiously touched his arm, your confidence growing with every word. "Oh, come on, Hoonie, of course I was rooting for you," you confessed with a playful eye roll, a mischievous gleam in your eyes. Sunghoon rewarded your playful admission by tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and for that moment, the world seemed to narrow down to the two of you, engaged in a playful dance of flirtation amidst the post-race excitement. The nickname you garnered for him was definitely working in your favor.

You were so deeply engrossed in your conversation with Sunghoon that you remained oblivious to the intense gaze fixed upon you from the second-place racer, Ace. He watched you with something akin to jealousy, uncertain whether he should approach. Leaving you and Sunghoon in your own world, Jay and Jake made their way over to Ace to offer their congratulations. Jake, always one for humor, attempted to lighten the mood with a lighthearted comment. "Hey, man! You were so cool out there. Second place is still good. Don't be discouraged. I'm sure all these girls still want you," he quipped, though he hadn't realized that Ace's attention was on him. Ace's initial jealousy quickly transformed into a friendly demeanor as he responded, "Yo, thanks for that, haha. Almost won, but I'll win the next one for sure." Jay chimed in with an encouraging pat on Ace's shoulder before the two of them began to walk away. However, Ace couldn’t keep it to himself. He called out to Jay and Jake, nodding in your direction while still engaged in conversation with Sunghoon. "Hey, do you know that girl?" he inquired, his interest piqued. Jay answered without hesitation, a friendly tone in his voice as he looked back toward Ace. "Yeah, that’s yn! We're friends. She came here with us," he explained, his focus now shifting as he moved away from the racer, joining Jake in heading back in your direction, leaving Ace with his thoughts as you continued your conversation with Sunghoon.

As the evening wound down and Jay and Jake were ready to head home, you and Sunghoon decided to exchange numbers, creating a playful connection. Sunghoon, with a charming wink, remarked, "Call me when you wanna ride, beautiful." Your response was just as flirty, "I'll call you when I want to, Hoonie," and you playfully blew him a kiss. As you began to walk away, ready to rejoin your friends in the car, Sunghoon made his way over to Ace, eager to share his little victory. "Bro, I just got the hottest girl's number, and—" Sunghoon began, but before he could finish, Ace roared away on his bike, his jealousy simmering beneath the surface. With your two friends already in the car, you confidently made your way toward them, your spirits high. For that moment, Heeseung had slipped from your thoughts, and the excitement of connecting with Sunghoon filled your mind. However, just as you were about ten feet away from Jay's car, a white motorcycle suddenly cut in front of you, blocking your path to your friends. Startled, you took a step back, your heart racing, and realized that the rider was one of the racers. You cautiously addressed him, "Oh, Jesus Christ, you scared me. Ace, right?" His helmet obscured his face as he nodded, and he proceeded to take it off, revealing his identity.

Your heart sank as the white helmet came off, revealing the vibrant purple hair that had grown longer since you last saw him. The shock washed over you like a tidal wave, and your eyes scanned his familiar face, unable to believe that he was standing there before you, just as he had been months ago. His eyes, large and twinkling, bore into yours, the same way they had done when you first met. "H-Heeseung?" was all you could manage to stammer. The excitement you had felt only moments ago had evaporated, replaced by a rush of tears welling up in your eyes. Every emotion you had held back for months now poured out, glistening like rivers of glittering light. The overwhelming flood of feelings left you lost and unsure of how to proceed. Heeseung spoke, his voice breaking the silence, "Yn, I missed you pretty girl.” But you couldn't handle it. The anger and sadness mixed inside you, driving you to act on impulse. "I can't do this right now, Heeseung. I-I gotta go," you uttered, your voice quivering with raw emotion. You turned and ran towards Jay's car, where the two boys had witnessed the entire interaction. Climbing into the vehicle, you were met with a barrage of concerning questions from your friends. "I'll answer once you start driving. Please. Please start driving," you implored. Jay promptly obeyed your request and sped out of the lot, the car now on the road, the boys eager to ask their questions.

Jake spoke up first, his voice tinged with disbelief, "Yn, who was that?" "Heeseung…" you replied, your voice quivering. "Oh my god, what?!" Jake exclaimed. "Heeseung? Like in, Heeseung Heeseung?" Jay asked, his surprise mirroring Jake's. "Yes, Jay. Heeseung Heeseung. Oh my god, what was he doing there?" you lamented, your words spilling out in a mixture of confusion and emotion. "Wait, isn't this what you wanted, Yn? Why are you so upset?" Jake inquired, trying to make sense of your reaction. You paused, a heavy sigh escaping your lips before you responded, "…because… where has he been? I've spent months, nearly half a year wondering when he'd show up—waiting for him like some lost puppy. And now all of a sudden, I see him today, surrounded by a crowd of girls, only talking to me because I was hitting it off with Sunghoon? I just… I just don't know what's going on. And just now, he says he missed me? Bullshit. Absolute bullshit. He knows where I live; if he missed me so much, he would've visited. I waited months, guys. MONTHS. I just… I'm so—" Jay cut off your rambling rant, his voice filled with understanding and empathy. "Yn, my love, it's okay. Let's get you that burger." In your teary, emotional state, you couldn't help but let out a faint laugh, appreciating Jay's attempt to lighten the mood. Jake reached his hand to the backseat to comfort you, and you clung to it as he gently rubbed circles into your hand. As you sat there, feeling a whirlwind of emotions and confusion, you were grateful that your friends were by your side, offering their support and understanding in your time of need.

With the comforting presence of your friends and the burger in your stomach, you finally arrived home. Jay and Jake had offered to spend the night with you, but you assured them that you appreciated their support but wanted some time alone with your thoughts. Feeling too drained to remove your makeup and outfit, you flopped onto your couch, face-first, and screamed into a throw pillow. The weight of the day and the unexpected encounter with Heeseung left your mind in a tumultuous state. As you lay there, lost in your thoughts, exhaustion overcame you, and you drifted into an uneasy slumber. Some odd hours later, you were startled awake by a persistent knocking on your door. At first, you attempted to ignore it, hoping the person would go away, but the knocking persisted. Reluctantly, you dragged yourself up and went to inspect the door through the peephole. What you saw on the other side took your breath away: a head of purple hair, Heeseung, standing at your doorstep.

Anger surged through your body as you swung the door open, and a torrent of questions spilled from your lips, "What do you want? Why are you here? Why did it take you so long to see me?" The frustration that had been simmering inside you for months finally found its voice, and it was directed squarely at the person who could provide answers. Heeseung began to speak, attempting to explain himself, but you couldn't bear to let him finish. The words tumbled out of you, fueled by the emotions that had been building up over time. "No, Heeseung. Do you know how long I've been waiting for you? How much I wished every motorcycle that passed me on the street was you? I've been so…" The emotional dam broke, and tears cascaded down your cheeks as your voice quivered with pent-up pain and frustration. Heeseung, rather than offering words, brought you into a gentle embrace, his strong arms wrapping around you, and his hand softly patting your head. His voice was a soothing whisper in your ear, "Shh, shh… I'm here now, pretty girl. I'm here. I'm sorry." His comforting presence and reassuring touch allowed you to release your bottled-up emotions. You allowed yourself to cry in his arms, feeling a mixture of anger, relief, and longing all at once. Despite your anger at him in this moment, you couldn't deny that his embrace was warm and welcoming, and it offered a sense of solace that you hadn't realized you had been yearning for.

You and heeseung were now sitting on the couch, cuddling in the darkness of your living room. You decide to break the silence, “Can we talk now, hee?” He begins to play with your hair, offering you a quiet hum in response. “Where have you been? Why haven’t you visited me?” You ask the questions that plagued your mind the most. "Yn, I'm truly sorry for disappearing like that. I had my reasons, but I understand how much it hurt you. I needed some time to sort things out in my life. It's not an excuse, but I want you to know that I've missed you every day, and I regret not being there for you. I'm here now, and I want to make it right, if you'll have me" he answers. “How do I know you’re telling the truth, heeseung? I mean, the first time I saw you today, you were surrounded by all these girls, and how do I know you won’t leave again?” You ask. "I understand your doubts, baby, and I don't blame you for being cautious. The girls today were just fans, and I was trying to keep a low profile. I promise you, I won't disappear again. I want to make it up to you and prove that I'm committed to being in your life. Actions speak louder than words, and I'm willing to show you through my actions that you can trust me." You let out a quiet sigh, “I want to trust you heeseung, I really do. But Im so scared of getting hurt again. Why did you decide to help me out that one day? The day we met? Do you do that to other girls? "I completely understand your fear, Yn. I helped you that day because you seemed like someone genuinely in need, and I felt a connection with you from the start. I don't do that for other girls; our meeting was special and unique. I can't promise you won't ever get hurt, but I can promise that I'll do my best to be there for you and be honest with you. I want to make things right between us. Seriously, my pretty girl” heeseung claims, shifting his body so you guys are face to face now.

As Yn looked into Heeseung's eyes, she saw a sincerity she hadn't seen in a long time. Her heart was still cautious, but the warmth of his embrace had melted some of the ice around it. "Let's take it one step at a time, my “love Heeseung said gently. "I won't rush you, and I'll do my best to earn your trust. We can figure this out together, princess.” Yn nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She was unsure of what the future held, but for the first time in months, she felt a glimmer of hope. As the night continued, they talked, laughed, and shared stories. Yn realized that Heeseung had changed, and maybe she had too. They both had scars, but perhaps together, they could heal. The story of Yn and Heeseung wasn't over; it was just beginning. And for the first time in a long time, they both felt like they were exactly where they were supposed to be.

“Lee Heeseung, if you disappear on me again, I swear to god. Don’t forget I still have sunghoon’s number!” You playfully hit Heeseung. “Okay, okay! Message received ma’am! Now I have a question.” You respond with a hum. “Now who was that boy holding your hand earlier? At the race? Hm?” You laugh and respond teasingly, “Baby, that’s Jake. You really don’t have to worry about him. He’s like my little puppy!”

“My love, you do realize how wrong that sounds?” Heeseung laughs.

#enhypen #enhypen angst #enhypen imagines #enhypen reactions #enhypen x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen ff #enhypen niki #park sunghoon #enhypen jake #heeseung x reader #heeseung #heeseung imagine #enhypennetwork #ficscafe #enhypen jay

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boyfhee · 2 years

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⌕ TAKE TWO ━━ n. riki

PRECIS. while riki constantly assured you that him being an idol under a different label wouldn't be an issue in your relationship, you start getting second thoughts when fans start shipping him with his co-mc at music bank. COMPLETED

GENRE. fluff, humour, major angst

WARNINGS. mentions of cheating, lots and lots of insecurities, arguments, kys / kms jokes i'm sorry, do not expect a lot of humour tbh + tba in respective chapters

BEFORE YOU READ. ok so the reader is initially a trainee and will debut later as the plot proceeds ( in first 2-3 chapters ) this takes place after the iconic jangkku mc era, riki and reader are in an established relationship. slow / irregular updates

NOTE. i see my jake smau straying further away from me and the readers but i can't help bc it's plot doesn't feel right to me :( like i have a rough chapter plan but it sounds so lacking, i'm afraid i'll encounter some major plot hole after posting and will have to put it on hold / discontinue it, which i don't want to happen :")) have fun with this smau till then, i'm trying my best to come up with a solution for my jake smau ^◡^ happy reading !

SEQUEL : LAST SHOT ( tbr )

PROFILES . . . !

one | two

CHAPTERS . . . !

all the pictures used are only references and are not supposed to depict reader's appearance in any way ! the chapter titles and number of chapters are subjected to change accordingly !

01 : bitchless, 22 and counting

02 : our secret romance

03 : delulu engenes

04 : third person

05 : the art of ignorance

06 : deleted instagram account

07 : breaking up on the tl

08 : fuck shit up

09 : the line between friends and more

10 : miyaki tag

11 : do what you can

12 : riki redemption arc

13 : unauthorized investigation

14 : last chance

15 : silly little feelings

16 : we're in this together

17 : good at this

18 : media left and right

19 : all you want

20 : who's the real cheater

21 : how are you so sure

21.5 : extra ! the miya scandal

22 : no regrets

23 : leaving for good

24 : an odd solace

25 : take two — epilogue !

SERIES TAGLIST. ( open, please note that permanant taglist won't be added in every chapter ) @mosinterlude @tnyhees @bigtoewinwin @chaeryoungsredhair @lockburn-castle @potaeto-writes-on-wp @highlightsonmyheart @gothhyucks @softiegukk @lcv3lies @cosmicwintr @prettysung @luvdokja @w0nnielov3 @indelicate-macalino @enhasengene @faelyncore @yooonz4u @binsoomi @wondering-out-loud @jihyoscrown @captivq @meiiiwa @myjaeyunn @jeongintwt @seventeeneration @nomurahayami @ilovewonyo @duolingofanaccount @notdrunkbutdazed @luredher @artstaeh @moremilkforkags @lalalalawon @mylobae @stevesdick @arizejkt19 @lix-freckle3 @arusio @iamminnie @yongboksfreckles @sd211 @strwberrydinosaur @sunshine-skz @anik-4 @m1kotsu @kokoiinuts @stopeatread @adajoemaya @nyfwyeonjun

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angelwonie · 2 years

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LIKE YOU || choi yeonjun

PAIRING: fuckboy!yeonjun x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 16.4k

GENRE(S): smut, fluff, slowburn, college!au

SUMMARY: when your school’s infamous fuckboy, choi yeonjun, sets his eyes in you, he's determined in his mission to make you his. only the task turns out harder than he'd initially expected.

WARNINGS: smut [unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), praise, overstimulation, slight corruption kink], consumption of alcohol, smoking, yeonjun is a menace and a flirt

Choi Yeonjun didn’t mean to fall in love with you.

Really, he didn’t. He didn’t plan on falling in love with anybody, actually. He just wasn’t the type of guy to chase after one girl, especially one who showed no initial interest in him.

Until you came along, that is.

—

“Gosh, did you really break up with her? And here I was, thinking this one would actually last longer than two weeks.”

Yeonjun only rolls his eyes in response to his friend’s nagging, his back resting against the cold stonewall of the school as his shoes sink into the soft grass surrounding them. It's the place he, Soobin and Taehyun go to complain about homework, classmates, or in his case, girls, and it was carefully chosen by them so as not to catch the attention of any annoyingly nosy teachers. It is also the place he usually brings girls to make out with – at least those he won’t even bother taking out on a date since they’re way too boring. Most people would be surprised to know just how many girls aren't worth knowing.

He sighs deeply, fidgeting a little with the hem of his ripped jeans before fetching a pack of cigarettes from the pocket. His eyes scan the area subconsciously, not searching for anyone in particular but looking for anything interesting to latch onto. “Oh, quit complaining, Soobin. Why do you care, anyway? It’s not like she was your girlfriend.”

‘Girlfriend’ is a bit too much of an exaggeration, even he has to admit – all that girl ever was to him was a quick fuck. Not that it matters. It doesn’t exactly occupy his thoughts whether she’s taking their ‘breakup’ well or not. He sighs, tearing his gaze away from the crowd as nothing – and nobody – catches his eye. Ignoring his friend’s judgemental stare, he lights a cigarette, bringing it to his lips and inhaling the calming aroma, before breathing out a cloud of smoke.

“No, but she seemed to like you a lot.” Soobin says, and Yeonjun lets out a snort of laughter, which earns him another death stare from his friend. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll run out of girls to hook up with?”

“I can always go to a bar and find some new ones. Seoul is full of girls, which makes it even more embarrassing that you’re incapable of finding yourself one.”

“Oh, shut up. It’s not like you’ve ever had a proper relationship, either. I’d say that’s even more embarrassing.”

“How is it embarrassing? I’m living the dream, man, admit it.” And as if to prove his point, he takes another drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke directly into his friend’s frowning face.

And then he looks at the crowd of students again, totally uninterested as always. At least until his eyes land on your frame and he’s suddenly feeling more interested than he’s ever felt before. Because, holy fuck, who is that girl and why has he never seen her before? For a moment, he’s just staring at you, eyes running over all your features as if not to forget any of them, mind racing with the thought that you might just be the prettiest girl he’s ever seen in his entire life. And then you disappear into the crowd again and all that’s left is his burning determination to make you his.

“Who was that girl?” He asks his friend, finger pointing in the direction of where you were standing just a moment ago.

Thankfully, Soobin seems to have seen you, too. “Huh? Oh, her? That’s Y/N.”

“You know her?”

Raising a brow, he responds skeptically. “Yeah, why? She’s the class president in my class.”

Oh, wow. Class president. He's never been with a class president – mostly because all of their school talk was impossible to endure – but that shouldn't be much of a problem. You are still a girl, after all, and girls are his specialty.

It only takes a few more questions directed at a not-so-happy Soobin to find out that you work as an assistant at the school library during breaks, and so Yeonjun has found his destination. He's so quick to run into the school that it's not before he's spent five minutes looking for the library that he realizes he has no idea where it is. Groaning in frustration, he asks one of the bypassers to show him the way, but it takes another three minutes for the girl to stop blushing and giggling, which makes Yeonjun question whether it's worth it to even go there.

But then he's reminded of how pretty you looked from a distance, and he knows he has to see you up close. So he lets the girl bring him to the library, and he's quick to realize that this might just be his least favorite place in the whole school. The room is filled with nothing but shelves of books and the girls who are sitting by the tables are nowhere near as pretty as he'd like. And they're also not even paying him a glance – something he finds a little weird. Now he just hopes you're good with your mouth, so that his time doesn't go to waste.

“Do you need help with anything?”

He hears from behind him and yes, his eyes weren't playing tricks on him earlier – you're even prettier up close. Of course you'd come up to him first – he'd doubted your ability to take initiative since you are a class president, but it seems that he'd overestimated people's capability of resisting his good looks. You are just making his task so much easier.

“Not really, no,” He grins widely, running his ring-clad fingers through his hair. “Just wanted to ask you if you’re free this weekend.”

He watches as you scrunch up your nose in confusion – it’s kind of cute – and awaits your answer with the grin never leaving his face. If there’s anything he’s good at, it’s asking people out. Though the fact that he’s had a 100% success rate all his life probably helps with the confidence. You sigh a little and it brings him to reality, making him realize that you’re taking a little too much time thinking and too little time agreeing to go out with him.

“Sorry,” You say finally, gaze so uninterested that it kind of reminds him of his. “I’m not interested.”

And just like that, you walk away from him. Totally unfazed, too, like you didn’t just reject Choi fucking Yeonjun. It makes him furious. But for some unknown reason, it also makes him interested. And when Choi Yeonjun is interested in someone… Well, he’s not going to give up that easily.

—

“What do you mean Choi Yeonjun asked you out?” One of your friends exclaims as you sit in the cafeteria, your hand quickly coming up to cover her mouth so that nobody hears what you’re talking about.

“Would you quiet down a little?” You hiss in her direction, removing your hand when she rolls her eyes. “I mean, he asked me out. When I was in the library. Just appeared out of nowhere, asking me if I have plans for the weekend.”

“Oh my god, that’s amazing! What did you say?”

“No, obviously. Why would I wanna-”

“What do you mean you said no?!” There it is again – a high pitched squeak and a facial expression of someone who was just deeply offended. And knowing your friend, she probably is. “Are you fucking insane? Why wouldn’t you want to go out with the Choi Yeonjun? Literally every girl at this school would kill to get asked out by him.”

“I wouldn’t,” You say, going back to your food. “He hooks up with every other girl he sees and smokes cigarettes. I don’t want anything to do with him.”

“Sure, you don’t,” You hear your friend scoff in annoyance, but this time you choose to ignore her. It’s not like you could ever convince her to stop admiring the guy, so why waste your oxygen trying? Honestly, it’s all getting on your nerves – how everyone seems to adore him. Girls want to date him and boys want to be him. You’ve never quite understood why.

Not that it matters – now that you’ve told him off there’s no way he wants anything to do with you. Right?

Wrong.

You realize just how much you’re mistaken already the next day as you’re hurrying to class, four textbooks huddled in your arms as you push your way through the crowd. It's 9:21 and your class started six minutes earlier, leaving you with no choice but to pay no attention to your surroundings and focus on getting to the classroom. Which turns out to be a very bad idea the moment you run straight into something – no, someone – and drop all your books on the floor. Not to mention that it feels like you just broke your nose.

“Ow,” You mutter under your breath, and you hear a low chuckle that makes you look up at the person you just ran into. And, holy shit, there's just no way someone can be this unlucky.

“Where are you going in such a hurry, sweetheart?”

You furrow your brows at the one and only Choi Yeonjun, who's standing in front of you with his hands buried in his pockets and an annoyingly attractive smirk on his face as he eyes you up and down. Did he just call you sweetheart? You suppose he did. Not that you feel special or anything – he probably calls every girl that.

Just like he probably picks up every girl's books when she drops them – which is what he's doing right now as you still try to recover from the shock of seeing him again after such a short time. You don't even get to protest as he kneels down, before picking them up and handing them to you with his cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. It should be a repulsive sight, but it's actually ridiculously attractive on him.

“To class? Where else would I be going?” And before he gets to reply, you're already pushing past him to leave the conversation. But after barely two steps you feel his hand on your shoulder, turning you around to look at him again. “What are you doing? I need to go.”

“Come on, it won't kill your teacher to wait another five minutes,” He tilts his head to the side, studying your face so intensely that you're afraid he'll see the way you're not as calm as you appear to be. “Don’t you wanna go outside and take a cigarette with me?”

“I don't smoke,” You say. “Especially not with people like you.”

For a moment, you're scared he'll get mad at you for saying that, because his smirk drops and his eyes grow darker – as if what you said hit him a little too hard. But it's most probably just your imagination playing tricks on you, because in the blink of an eye he's smirking again, this time with a hint of amusement in his gaze.

“People like me? What's that supposed to mean?”

Um, I don't know, fuckboys who change girlfriends every week and don't give a shit about other people's feelings, maybe? But you don't say that out loud. Instead you shake his hand off of your shoulder and ignore the feeling that something's missing when you no longer feel his touch.

“I have to get to class.”

And just like that, you walk away from him for the second time. Only this time, he's not the only one with this strange encounter on his mind.

—

You've only met him twice, and both times you spoke with him only briefly, but that doesn't change the fact that Choi Yeonjun is the one occupying your mind for the next couple of days. What's even worse is that you're not sure just why you're thinking about him – whether it's because you've had enough of him, or the total opposite. But since you're a rational person, you settle with the first one: that you're simply thinking about him because you don't want to see him ever again.

That is actually something you've managed to do for the last few days – you haven't even seen him in the hallway. Which is refreshing, because it means you're back to normal, being the class president who can focus on school and not some annoying troublemaker. You've purged all thoughts of Yeonjun that were left in your head by the time you're in the cafeteria, hungry as hell. Saying a quick goodbye to your friends, you head over to one of the vending machines in order to buy yourself an iced coffee – you deserve it after all the schoolwork you've done today, that's for sure.

When you've chosen your drink, you press your card against the sensor and wait for it to withdraw the money, but after a few seconds a message saying 'card rejected' pops up on the screen. You sigh softly, trying again.

“What the fuck?” You mumble to yourself as your card gets rejected by the paying machine once again.

“You sure you have enough money on that card, kitten?”

You jump slightly at the sound of a voice barely two centimeters from your ear. Your hand instinctively comes up in order to cover your mouth to muffle your gasp as you turn around only to be met with a pair of deep brown eyes, belonging to none other than Choi Yeonjun himself. He only laughs at your reaction, letting one of his hands rest on your shoulder as he leans over the vending machine with his card between his fingers.

“What are you doing?” You finally ask as he hands you your card, pressing his against the machine instead.

“What do you mean?” He fetches the drink from the vending machine and holds it out in front of you, urging you to take it.

“I mean, what do you think you're doing?”

“I’m paying for your coffee, that's what I'm doing,” He says it like it's the normal thing to do, but you both know this isn't how he usually acts. And it freaks you out, knowing that he's acting nicer than usual. Because what the fuck does he want? “Now would you please take this from my hands? It's a little rude not to thank me when I'm being so generous, don't you think?”

So you grab the drink, eyeing him cautiously as he walks over to the nearest table before plumping down on one of the cheap chairs. He looks so out of place here, with his dark hair and silver rings adorning his long fingers that have already fetched his phone from his pocket. You don’t recall ever seeing him here, actually – you’ve heard from your fanatic friends that he always eats lunch at the cafe close by the school. You’re not sure why – maybe because he feels too cool to eat in the school cafeteria or maybe he wants to avoid all the giggling girls that are looking at him with eyes full of adoration. Whatever the reason, he never eats here.

And yet he’s sitting right there, scrolling through his phone with no apparent wish to get out of the cafeteria anytime soon.

“Are you just gonna stand there or what?”

“Huh?” His words bring you back to reality and you realize you’ve just been standing a meter away from the table with your coffee clutched in your hand this entire time. You hadn’t even noticed that he’d looked up from his phone, that annoying smirk plastered back onto his features as he speaks.

“Aren’t you gonna sit down?” Seeing your expression, he chuckles softly, and for some reason you don’t find his laugh that annoying – it's quite pretty actually. Has a nice ring to it. Not that you care what his laugh sounds like, of course. “What, you don’t drink coffee with people like me, either?”

You don’t respond, instead opting for sitting down by the table, across from him. You’re not sure what possessed you to do that – whether it was the embarrassment from earlier or the way that Yeonjun’s burning gaze is too much to handle while standing up – but you don’t miss the jealous stares from the nearby-seated girls, reminding you that there’s literally no reason for you to be talking with Choi Yeonjun right now. Or ever, for that matter.

“Give me your number,” He says once you’ve taken a sip of your drink, making you almost choke on it.

With a bewildered expression, you look at him and the phone he’s shoving in your direction. The ‘create a new contact’ function is open and it’s obvious he wants you to write your number there. For a moment, you’re about to do it, the way that he said it with so much confidence somehow making you weak in the knees even when sitting down. Now you can understand how he can pull every girl he wants. But then you’re able to think clearly again, and you realize that phone probably contains the numbers of tens of girls whom he’d hooked up with.

And you know for a fact that you’re not about to become the next checked-off item on his list.

“Why would I give you my number?” You say to him, pushing the phone away from you on the table.

He raises an eyebrow in amusement, smiling a little wider at your response and it makes you groan internally. Why must he be so hard to upset? “God, you’re really stubborn, huh?”

It annoys you that his voice holds an amused tone, and it annoys you that he finds your attempts at rejecting him funny. Shouldn’t someone like him – someone who isn't used to being pushed away by anyone – be much easier to discourage? Why is he so fucking persistent? Why is he ignoring your uninviting demeanor, when he could be chasing after any other girl – a girl who’d have no problem falling to her knees for him in the span of two seconds. But you suppose it’s partly your own fault since you’re not making any particular effort at leaving the scene.

“You don’t know anything about me.” You hope your voice sounds as confident as it did in your head when you let those words leave your mouth.

“Well, I want to get to know you.”

“No, you don’t,” You scoff, letting your eyes meet his this time. “You want to get in my pants.”

“What’s the difference?”

Even though you kind of expected that kind of response from a well-known fuckboy, it still makes your mouth fall open. “Are you serious right now?”

“No.” His lips spread in a smile as he rests his chin on his hand, eyes glistening with amusement as he observes the change of your facial expressions. “But I bet you thought I was.”

He’s absolutely right and it makes you feel exposed in a way. Like you’ve been thinking there’s no personality to him, and now he’s proving you wrong. That’s what he’s acting like, anyway. Like him knowing the difference between getting to know someone and wanting to sleep with them makes him any less of an asshole. If anything, it’s the opposite – it means he deliberately chooses to play with people’s feelings, and since you know he’s good at it, the best choice would be to leave now, before his demeanor somehow grabs your attention and interest.

“You don’t know very much about me either, do you, sweetheart?”

Your breath hitches a little as his hand accidentally brushes against yours when he puts it on the table, and you’re quick to pull it back to you and rest it in your lap instead. His eyes won’t leave you alone as he yet again pushes his phone towards you, further proving your theory that the man just won’t take a hint. “I’m throwing a party this Saturday. You should come. I’ll text you the address, so give me your number.”

“Can’t you just tell me?” You cock an eyebrow at him. “Besides, what makes you think I wanna come to your party?”

“I think,” He leans a little forward, and you try to slow down your heart that’s started banging against your chest a little too loudly. “You like being around me a little more than you let on. And I think that you want to get to know me, too. So this is your chance. And if I can’t convince you to give me a chance by then, I’ll leave you alone. Okay?”

“So you need to be at a party to show me that you’re worth knowing?” You taunt, again a little disappointed when you see that all your words cause is a short laugh. “But fine, I’ll come.”

You’re not sure what got into you, but the moment you say that, you realize the thought of coming to his party is making you excited. And even though you know it’s foul, the vision of showing all those shallow girls that you’re the one he spent time hitting on, that you’re the one he put in effort for, is tempting. You don’t want to be another girl he throws away when he’s done with, but you also can’t help the way his perseverance is slowly, but surely pushing down the walls you’ve put up around yourself.

“Perfect.” And it feels like a crime to have butterflies swarm in your stomach as he sends you a smile – one that feels so genuine that you almost forget he’s nothing but a player. Almost.

—

It goes without saying that your friends were thrilled to hear that you, out of all people, are invited to Choi Yeonjun’s party, and their excitement went over the roof the moment you told them you’re bringing them along. Now, bringing your Choi Yeonjun-obsessed besties to his party might not be the brightest idea, but at this point it’s your only option, since there’s no way you’re going alone.

Why? Partly because you’re straight up terrified of parties, but mostly because bringing your friends along is a good opportunity to discourage Yeonjun from further pursuing his determination to get in your pants. There’s no way a guy who only wants sex will care enough to put up with your crazy friends and your aversion to partying. At least you hope so. Lately, Yeonjun has been proving every assumption you’ve ever had about him wrong.

Nevertheless, you’re sure he won’t prove this one wrong. Because he is still a fuckboy, after all, and fuckboys are only interested in one thing – getting their dicks wet. So when he doesn’t get that from you, he’ll leave your life and so will this strange sense of attraction you feel every time he speaks to you.

“Are we at the right place?” You ask your friends as all three of you stand in front of the house that Yeonjun told you the party would be at.

“Are you stupid or what? Of course we are, don’t you see the people passed out on the lawn?”

Of course, you do. It’s not like you’re blind. Just nervous. Really fucking nervous. For a moment, you question whether you should just go back to your dorm and read a book like you normally would on a Saturday night, but unfortunately, you doubt you could’ve focused on the words knowing that somewhere out there, Yeonjun is waiting for you to show up at his door. Maybe even thinking of you, of getting to know you. No, Y/N, he doesn’t want to get to know you, you mentally scold yourself. He wants to fuck you. So get yourself out of this ditch before you fall in too deep.

“Right. I’ll knock then.” Your friend looks at you expectantly and you clear your throat before ringing the doorbell with shaky fingers. Fuck. What are you so stressed about?

Much to your poor heart’s dismay, the one opening the door for you is Choi Yeonjun himself. He’s looking even more annoyingly handsome than he usually does, with a silver chain around his neck and his shirt half unbuttoned, the sleeves of it rolled up to reveal his forearms. And god, is he a sight to see. It makes you understand the girls who swarm around him at all times. Especially when he leans on the doorway, licking his lips in a seemingly innocent manner that unintentionally makes your heart beat faster, before inviting you inside with his signature smirk planted to his face.

“Y/N,” He says and the way your name rolls off of his tongue sends shivers down your spine. It’s the first time you’ve heard him say it, and it makes you grateful he’s never called you by your name at school because the subtle warmth laced in his voice is very distracting. “And friends, I suppose.”

Oh, right. Your friends. Who you brought here to annoy the guy whose voice you just internally drooled over. In your head, you thank Yeonjun for the reminder as to why you're really here – because it's surely not to shamelessly stare at his veiny hand that is wrapped around a plastic cup.

“Oh, yeah, these are my friends,” You say, pointing to the two girls that are practically drooling as they look at Yeonjun. But you suppose you're not allowed to judge them anymore, not after basically doing the same thing. To your defense, every girl would look if Choi Yeonjun stood in front of her like that. Or at least you hope that this isn’t a sign of you getting too attached.

“Wow, Yeonjun, you look much more handsome in real life than on instagram,” One of your friends gushes as he opens the door wider, allowing all three of you to enter the packed house. The moment you step inside, you’re hit with the strong smell of alcohol and sweat, as well as loud music that you can already sense is about to give you a headache. “You wouldn’t mind giving me your number, right?”

The moment those words leave her mouth, you’re whipping your head around to look at her half-surprised, half-mad. Why, you’re not sure, but the thought of her hitting on him makes something twist in your stomach unpleasantly. The death stare you send her doesn’t seem to have any impact, but Yeonjun’s words do as he drapes his arm over your shoulders before sending you – not your friend, you – a teeth-flashing grin. “Yeah, no, sorry, I’m kinda busy right now. Talk to you later, uh, whatever your name is.”

And just like that, he walks further into the crowd, pulling you with him, and you’re too shocked by the whole situation to even react, only managing to look back at your friends for a mere second. But, for some reason, their shocked faces don’t even make you feel that bad about walking away, partly because they pissed you off, but also because Yeonjun’s arm fits strangely perfectly around your shoulder, and his fingers grazing the exposed skin on your arm bother you way less than they should. Even the girls sending you ugly stares manage to be somehow drowned down by his light, but heart-stirring touch as he leads you to the kitchen, before finally letting you go.

“If you brought me here to seduce me, don’t hold your breath,” You tell him as he walks over to the counter, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. “I didn’t come here for that.”

There's a small smirk on his face as he looks up at you. “Then what did you come for?”

“You forced me to, remember? I came so that you'll finally accept your defeat and leave me alone.”

A chuckle leaves his lips as you watch him open the bottle, realizing that there's actually nobody except the two of you in the kitchen. The walls provide a good exclusion of the loud music, and there's some kind of peace to the atmosphere. It's the first time you're alone with Yeonjun in a room, but it doesn't stress you out at all – actually, it’s calming.

“You know, that’s what I like about you,” He smiles, pouring the alcohol as if he didn’t just say something that makes your heart drop to your stomach for just a second. “That you always say what you mean. No matter what, you do what you want to do and say what you want to say. It takes a lot of courage to do that, you know.”

You scoff at his words, sitting down on the floor with your back pressed up against the counter. “Just how drunk are you? You’re talking nonsense. Everyone says what they wanna say and does what they wanna do.”

“Really?” He cocks an eyebrow, before sitting down next to you and handing you your drink. For just a short moment, your fingers graze his skin as you're taking the glass from his hands, and goosebumps spread across your whole body from the contact. But then he lets go, and the sensation disappears, leaving you feeling somewhat empty. “I don’t.”

You furrow your eyebrows, taking a sip of your drink and instantly frowning afterwards, the strong taste burning your throat. He laughs at your reaction – not in the cocky way, but warmly, like he genuinely finds you amusing, but his smile fades when you speak. “What are you talking about?”

“I don't even know,” He sighs, lighting one of his cigarettes as he leans his head back and inhales the smoke, and it feels like an eternity before he speaks again. “Sometimes I just feel like I don't even know who I am anymore.”

He doesn't even expect you to react in any way. Why should you? He's been all but bothering you the last few days, doing absolutely nothing that would prove wrong your assumptions about what kind of a person he is. And yet he's telling you things – things he's never told anyone before, things he thought he'd never say. Part of him hopes you just won't say anything, that you'll leave and forget he ever brought this up, but at the same time, he wants you to listen, because it's his chance to prove to you that he's something more than just the facade he's been putting up around himself.

But you don't owe him that. You don't owe him anything, especially not listening to his problems. He doesn't owe you an explanation, either, though, so maybe he should be the one to stand up and leave the scene. Or maybe he does owe you an explanation, after all, for spending so much time with you even though everybody knows he doesn't like wasting his time. You're probably left wondering what the hell he wants with you, and frankly, so is he.

He's almost set on leaving, but then he hears your voice laced with concern, and when he whips his head around to look you in the eyes, he sees it's paired with an expression of genuine interest in your features, and he knows that even if he tried, he wouldn't be able to leave now.

“In what way?” You're asking him, tilting your head a little to the side. “I thought you would be the person to know exactly who you are and what you want.”

“Well, I did tell you you don't know much about me, didn't I?” He grins, but seeing your awaiting face, he stops. You're really serious about this, and it makes him question whether he should have said anything at all. “Besides, there's not much to say. I created the problem myself when I decided to become the kind of person people like you stay away from. It's not like I can blame people for seeing me as just an asshole if that's all there's ever been to me.”

“Is it, though?” You ask, eyeing him cautiously as he places the cigarette between his lips again. “Is that all there is to you?”

It takes him a while to respond, his mind stirring with thoughts as he wonders, what else is there to him? He's promised to show you that he's worth knowing, but now that he's to prove it, he has no idea what to say. That's a first. It's also a first that he doesn't feel like he's wasting his time getting to know a girl – actually, he can't get enough of the way you're observing him as if you really care.

“No. I don't think it is.” He says finally. “Because there are still things I want to do. There are still pictures I'd like to take, songs I'd like to play and places I'd like to go. And there are people I'd like to know.”

“Like who?” Your question is genuine, he realizes, and it makes him laugh, because still, you somehow haven't put the pieces together. Class president, yet you can't seem to understand he's flirting with you.

“You.” And it's no secret that he enjoys – a little too much, maybe – watching how your caring expression turns into one half-annoyed, half-flustered. He thinks you're adorable, scoffing to hide the way his words have an impact on you. Or at least he hopes they do.

“Why are you telling me all this, out of all the people you could've chosen to say it to?”

“I don't know, honestly,” He sighs, throwing his cigarette away. “You’re the only one who’d care, I suppose.”

You can't help but giggle, probably influenced by the alcohol. “The only person who'd care is the one who told you to fuck off the first time you met her?”

“Yeah, I know, it's fucking ironic.” He laughs, too.

And for some unidentified reason, you realize you wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else at this moment, than here, in the kitchen at a party, next to the biggest fuckboy of them all, Choi Yeonjun. If anyone had told you three weeks earlier that you'd grow to enjoy talking to a guy like him, you wouldn't have believed them, but it's true that the smile plastered onto your face is genuine. And silently, you hope Yeonjun’s is, too. It's a stupid thing to hope for, you know that. Especially since he’s known for breaking hearts. But pretending to not give a fuck would be just as stupid at this point.

Suddenly, interrupting this peaceful moment, a load of drunk teenagers barge into the kitchen, each one shouting louder than the other. You frown as the loud music from the other room hits your ears, and curse them silently for ruining what was a very enjoyable interaction.

You're just about to stand up and leave as you feel the warmth of Yeonjun’s hand as he laces his fingers through yours like it's the easiest thing in the world, before leaning to the side to whisper in your ear. His lips just barely craze the shell of your ear, and you feel a little lightheaded, though you're not sure whether that's from the alcohol or being able to feel his breath tickling your skin as he speaks.

“Do you wanna get out of here?”

And there it is. The words that bring you to reality, that remind you that Choi Yeonjun is, after all, your school's well-known fuckboy who just wants you in his bed. And though you already knew that, it hurts a little stronger because for a moment you felt like there was something more to him than that.

“And go to your bedroom? No, thank you,” You’re quick to pull away from him, but your hands remain interlaced because his grip is too tight to escape instantly. His brows furrow at your words, but he lets go of your hand when he sees you struggling to get out of his grip.

“You should chill out a little, kitten,” His mildly annoyed tone catches you off guard – you’ve never thrown him off before. Is this the moment he stops talking to you entirely because you didn’t let him get what he wants? “I actually wanted to take you home. It’s getting late and you don’t look like you’re enjoying the party.”

Oh. Oh. He wants to take you home. Choi Yeonjun wants to take you home. Now you most definitely feel like an idiot. You’re so shocked – and humiliated – that you can’t even say anything, so instead, you just follow him through the crowd as turns around to leave, heading towards the exit. Sensing he’s somewhat upset, you stay quiet, but you truly regret not holding his hand as you push through all the dancing people. You shouldn’t be thinking like that, you’re aware, but it bothers you that you judged him like that. Even though he deserves to be judged, he’s a player. And an asshole. And you don’t even want to get to know him. You don’t care what he thinks of you. Right?

“You’re not mad at me, are you?”

Wrong. You do care. You hope he doesn’t hear it in your voice, but it’s pretty much obvious from the way all arrogance is wiped from your face and you’re looking up at him with expectant eyes as he pushes one of the curtains away to look out the window. For the brief moment that his gaze isn’t on you, you allow yourself to admire him – his hand that brings his drink to his lips, his dark eyes in which you can see the luminescence radiating off of the moon from outside. And you realize you don’t want to part from him just yet.

“No,” He says finally, letting go of the curtain and looking you straight in the eyes. This time, his gaze has softened and although you’re not sure exactly how you acquired this information, you know he’s sincere. “I’ll walk you home, it's dark outside already.”

He’ll walk you home? Part of you is curious as to why – you’ve heard from your friend that he’s always the last one to leave parties, especially those he throws himself. But another part of you, a bigger part, is feeling euphoric about spending more time with him, so you don’t really question him. You’ve done enough of that for one day. Waiting for Yeonjun to put on his jacket, you open the door, only to be met with a gush of cold wind and the sound of raindrops hitting the pavement outside. It’s fucking pouring.

“Fuck,” You mutter under your breath, catching Yeonjun’s attention.

“Wow, miss class president, you should watch your language. You’re setting a bad example.”

“Yeah, whatever,” You say with a smile. “It’s raining.”

You watch as he opens a closet, searching for something for a few seconds before he reaches you an umbrella. Opening it, you realize it’s decently big and will work great in stopping you from getting wet. But as Yeonjun closes the closet without taking out a second umbrella, you raise your brow at him questioningly. “What about you?”

“There’s only one. And you'd think a rich family like Taehyun’s would have more umbrellas.”

You hand him the umbrella as he walks over to you, figuring that it’ll work better if he’s the one to hold it since he’s taller. He doesn’t even care enough to bid his goodbyes, which surprises you a little – it’s his party after all – but after all you’ve witnessed today you conclude that you do, in fact, not know much about Choi Yeonjun, so there’s no point in assuming anything. Besides, a small part of you is hoping that he forgot to say goodbye because he was too caught up in you. Minimal chance that it applies, but still. Let a girl dream, right?

The two of you walk outside together, his arm bumping into yours as both of you try to fit under the umbrella. The weather is truly horrible, but luckily – or not, you’re not sure – the way home isn’t very long. You shiver a little as the cold breeze reaches your skin, regretting that you didn’t bring a warmer jacket. Oh well, it could've been worse. You could’ve been stuck in this weather alone, with no umbrella at all.

“Are you cold?”

“What?” You look at him, a little confused.

“You’re shivering,” He points out, handing you the umbrella and sliding his jacket off of his shoulders before you can protest. “Here, take this. I’m hot anyway.”

You take the jacket from his hands, and he waits with the umbrella directly over your head as you put it on. Starting to walk again, you can't help but inhale the smell that hits your nose when you bury your face in the fabric. It smells mostly like Yeonjun’s cologne – the expensive one that you felt for the first time when he picked up your books for you in the hallway, but underneath that there's also a scent that can't be anything but him. Is this what his skin smells like? If so, you're not sure you ever want to give this jacket back to him.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” He shrugs, but you partly hope it isn't actually nothing to him. Because it's definitely something to you.

You both stay silent for a while, and it's a little weird seeing him so quiet, but you savor the moment nevertheless. At this point, it's evident that your original plan has failed – because if there's anything you haven't done tonight, it's getting rid of the connection that seems to be forming between you and Yeonjun. Truly, though, you can't bring yourself to think about that now. Rather, you turn your head to him and for a split second, you're taken aback by how close your face is to his when he turns to look at you, too.

It takes a couple seconds for you to realize that he only turned to look at you because he felt your gaze on him, not because he can read your thoughts or anything.

“By the way,” You say to him. “You said something about Taehyun’s family being rich, yet not having enough umbrellas. But I thought we were at your house.”

“My house?” He laughs a little, as if the idea throws him off. “Nah, I don't really invite people over there. It's messy and small, and Taehyun’s house works much better.”

“You’d think fuckboys would have plenty of people to invite over.”

“Never said I don't have anyone to invite over. It's just that most people I know aren't worth inviting over.”

“Oh,” You say. What's that supposed to mean? Does he mean that you, too, aren't worth inviting over or what? You almost regret that he's proven not to be the person you'd expected him to be, because if he fit into that little bison you had of him, it would've been much easier to read him. “Well, someone you know must be worth inviting over, right?”

You hope to god that he doesn't hear the longing in your voice, but from the way the corners of his lips lift up in a smirk and he places his hand on your shoulder to stop you from walking any further, you can tell your prayers haven't been heard. Not even giving you a chance to defend yourself, he's turning his body towards you, pulling you closer by your shoulder. When he leans down, his face is so close to yours that you fear he can hear your heart that is on its way to beat out of your chest.

“Well, I suppose someone is.” He purrs, bringing one of his hands to pick up the strand of hair that's stuck itself on your skin and tuck it behind your ear. “You know that if you want to spend time with me, you can just ask, right, kitten?”

If his goal is to make you have a heart attack, then he's on the right track for sure, because you're feeling extremely dizzy now that his eyes are focused solely on you and his hand is resting against the skin on your neck. You wonder how he's able to keep his cool – this is probably nothing new for him, but still, it's like you're breathing the same air. That must surely have some kind of impact on him, right? But even if it does, he doesn't show it, because the smirk on his face doesn't fade – if anything, it grows wider at your flustered state.

“That’s not what I-”

“It’s time for us to move past the lying stage, don't you think?” He runs one of his fingers over the skin right below your jaw, and it takes every bit of willpower inside of you not to lean into his touch. “It’s getting a little old.”

One of his rings comes in contact with your flesh and it makes you shiver – something you could've probably covered up by saying it's from the cold, but something tells you that there's no point in lying to him. Part of you wants to break the tension and pretend like nothing happened at all, but you're way too caught up in him to look away. Your eyes move from his eyes to his mouth and back again, and you wonder if his lips have always looked this kissable.

For a split second, you think he's thinking the same thing; with the way he's licking his lower lip, inching a little closer to you it seems like he's about to break the distance between you. And in that moment, you realize that you'd let him. If he were to kiss you right now, you wouldn't even have thought of pushing him away. Actually, you realize, you really want him to kiss you right now. You really, really do. But then his phone starts vibrating in his pocket, and slowly, but surely, the breathtaking moment is coming to an end as he stands up straight again, his eyes now glistening with annoyance rather than desire.

“Shit, it's Soobin,” He mutters, removing his hand from where it was resting against your skin, leaving you feeling somewhat empty. “I need to pick up.”

He doesn't walk away since it's still raining like crazy, but he turns a little away from you as he talks to his friend. You could've probably listened in on their conversation, but you're not very interested in it, and honestly, what occupies your mind more is the occurrence that took place just a moment ago. What the fuck just happened? Was Choi fucking Yeonjun just about to kiss you, or was it just your imagination playing tricks on you? Either way, you're both frustrated and relieved that this situation came to an end.

You're drunk. You can't think straight. That's why you let him tuck your hair behind your ear and look at you as if you were the only girl in the world. That's why your heart fluttered when he smiled down at you – that goddamn smile that makes everyone weak in the knees. But if that's the only reason, then why is your heart still beating quickly even though he's not touching you? And why do you feel more sober than you've felt your whole life?

“Hey, miss president,” He says, catching your attention. You look up at him, and you're surprised to see his classic smirk missing from his features, replaced by a frown. “I need to go back to the party. Soobin says they're planning to jump on the glass table or some shit, and trust me, Taehyun will kill me if something happens to his parents' furniture.”

“Oh,” You say. “Alright then, I’ll just take the bus, since the station is right here.”

You're lucky, that's for sure, because the bus station is merely twenty meters or so away from where you and Yeonjun are standing. You'll still have to walk in the rain for a while to get home after taking the bus, but you don't mention that, since Yeonjun looks annoyed enough as it is. As to why that is, you’re not sure, but you partially hope that it's because he's reluctant to leave you. Because you’re personally very hesitant to say goodbye.

“Yeah, do that,” He says. “And text me when you get home, just so I know if I have to find myself a new girl to annoy. And make sure I won’t have to, because finding girls worth inviting over is very difficult these days.”

And before you can even respond or fully register what he just said, he winks at you and starts walking away, leaving you alone to sort out the chaos in your head. First of all, Choi Yeonjun just asked you to text him when you get home. Which means, that to some extent, he must genuinely care for you. Secondly, he indirectly said you’re worth inviting over. Even though he doesn’t normally invite anyone over to his house. Which might – just might – mean that you’re more special to him than those other girls. And thirdly, he just winked and left. Without his umbrella or jacket.

“Yeonjun, wait!” You shout before you’re able to stop yourself. Fortunately for you, he’s close enough to catch your voice and he turns back, walking over to you again. His black hair is completely wet now, and so is his white shirt that has now become useless because it’s sticking to his skin, outlining his abs and biceps very well. Too well, actually, because you catch your eyes flicking down to stare at them even as you talk to him. “What about the umbrella?”

A smile spreads itself on his face and you’re this close to having your knees buckle at how gorgeous he looks in that moment. You'd never tell him that – it’d only heighten his already inflated ego, but you’d be an idiot not to admit it to yourself, at least. Your mind can barely register what he says when he answers your question. “Keep it. I’ll just run.”

“But-”

“Just keep it, I said. Or you might catch a cold,” Goosebumps spread themselves across your skin like fire, and you know it’s not from the wind. The way he’s looking at you doesn't help either, with his warm eyes staring into yours so fondly, that if you didn't know any better you’d say he was infatuated. “Besides, I’m sure you'd like to have something that reminds you of me in your room, right, sweetheart?”

“As if,” You say, but your voice sounds too weak to convince him that you actually mean it. “Go, then. Before they completely wreck the house.”

“Bye, Y/N, I had fun today,” He says, a little bit louder than normal so you’ll hear him over the rain, and you can see a hint of something you wouldn’t consider anything but pure bliss in his eyes. “Oh, and keep the jacket, too. It looks much better on you, anyway.”

With those words, he walks away quickly and you stand looking after him until he’s completely out of your sight. Only when you’re entirely certain you can’t catch a glimpse of his white shirt somewhere in the distance do you start moving towards the bus station, thinking to yourself that this night did not go as planned. Not at all. But it doesn’t really matter, because for the first time in a long time you feel like you don't want to spend the next day alone.

That maybe, just maybe, you want to spend it with Choi Yeonjun.

—

You've heard multiple times that rumors spread faster than wildfire at your school, but you've never really paid it any thought – you were never involved in said rumors, anyway. Until now, it seems like, because the moment you enter the school on Monday morning, everyone's eyes are on you. Most of them don't even try to hide that their conversations are about you, some even point their fingers in your direction as you enter the hallway.

At first, you're all but confused. Do you look weird or something? Why have they all taken a sudden interest in you? But then, as you walk by a group of frowning girls, you overhear the words ‘Yeonjun’ and ‘his new girl’, and immediately, you know what this is all about. Hanging out with the school’s most popular boy has some downsides as well, and this is one of them. Everyone knows, after yesterday's party, probably, that you're the girl who piqued Choi Yeonjun’s interest, and since you so sensibly chose to wear the jacket he borrowed you to school today, you've gotten rid of everyone's doubts.

But it's fine – the girls at your school have a talent for finding new things to gossip about very fast, so you don't doubt that by the time you're back from chemistry class, they'll be over it.

Class goes smoothly as always, you take some notes and pay no attention to the few girls that whisper to each other about you, because you're sure that rumor will die down soon. Besides, it's hard to feel uneasy when the first thing you see as you take out your phone is a text message from none other than Choi Yeonjun, reading ‘hey miss class president, when do ur classes end? i’ll come meet u’.

You smile involuntarily upon thinking about meeting him and you're quick to write back: ‘at 2pm. don't be late.’ A mere second later comes a reply reading ‘wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart’ and in response, you only grin to yourself, heart already beating in excitement. The second the bell rings, you're out the door, fixing your hair hastily as you look into the camera of your phone. It's not like you want him to notice the efforts you're putting in to look good, because he'd probably figure out it's all for him way too quickly, but you can't help feeling a little nervous about meeting him. Though you shouldn't, because who is he to make you feel this way?

With your thoughts occupied by Yeonjun, you don't even realize you've run into someone before you feel yourself stumbling backwards, your bag almost falling off of your shoulder.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,” You say quickly, eyes scanning the face of the girl you just bumped into for any signs of bruises. Thankfully, there is none, and after bowing your head a little, you’re about to leave again. Yet, for some reason, the girl steps to the side to block your way and you see that her and her friends are glaring at you threateningly. Wow, are they this upset that you ran into them?

“Look, I’m sorry for bumping into you, but I’m kind of in a hurry, so-”

“Who exactly do you think you are?” You’re caught off guard when the girl speaks, her tone laced with venom as she crosses her arms over her chest. What the fuck? You can't recall ever seeing any of these girls before, so why are they suddenly acting like you stole their boyfriends or something?

“Excuse me?”

“I said, who the fuck do you think you are?” She repeats, just as venomously, rolling her eyes in the process. God, this girl is really getting on your nerves – especially since Yeonjun is most likely going to arrive by the cafeteria in a minute or two. She really couldn't have picked a worse moment to torment you. “Like, seriously, who are you to spend so much time with Yeonjun? What makes you so fucking special, that he decided to just beg for your attention, even though he never does that?”

Oh, so that’s what this is about. Of course. They’re asking you questions you don’t even know the answer to yourself. Why does he keep acting so interested and genuinely curious about you? It’s a thought that has been tormenting your thoughts ever since he picked up those books for you in the hallway.

And after the party on Saturday, when he was walking you home, he was so sweet and alluring, you’d managed to convince yourself that he did actually care for you. Because otherwise, how would you explain him borrowing you his umbrella, even if it meant him having to walk back in the rain? And why would he tell you to text him when you got home if he didn’t care? And, most importantly, why would he tuck your hair behind your ear and look at you as if you gave meaning to his life and lean in to kiss you as the rest of the world dissolved behind the rain?

He couldn’t have done all that without meaning any of it. You know that. Just like you know those girls think otherwise only because they don’t know him. And they never will, either. Because he wants to know you, not them. Something about that fills you up to the brim with joy. And even though part of you still wants to play it safe and keep your undeniable feelings towards him hidden away, it feels so much better to just let them bloom inside of you and wait for what will become of them.

“Are you deaf or what? Why does Yeonjun hang out with you all the time?”

“I don’t know, maybe because he likes it,” You retort, feeling your blood start to boil as the girls roll their eyes for the nth time. “And I know this kind of exceeds the amount of information your brain is able to process, but it’s dumb to refuse to believe that he’s found someone he enjoys being around just because he never cared enough to tell you himself.”

A few seconds pass and all you can see in her face is pure shock which slowly, but surely transitions into rage. Before you can even react, the girl has taken a step forward and pushed you with probably all her force, because it makes you stumble over your own feet and lose your balance. A hiss leaves your mouth as your bare knee comes in contact with the pavement, scraping your skin. “You should watch what you say, bitch.”

You’re just about to respond when you hear a familiar voice from somewhere behind the girl and it makes you groan in frustration that he had to arrive at a moment like this.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

Yeonjun looks as handsome as ever, his hands buried in his pockets and a chain hanging from his neck as he stands a few meters away from the scene, his eyes scanning the area before they finally land on you. You’re not certain, since he’s far away, but you think you can see his gaze soften a little when you meet his stare. It’s only for a moment, though, because next thing you know, he’s looking angrier than you’ve ever seen him before, his jaw clenching as he pushes past the girls and kneels in front of you.

“What happened?” He asks through gritted teeth, his touch soft as he examines your scraped knee.

“It’s nothing,” You mumble, keeping your gaze fixated on the ground. You're both embarrassed and scared to be caught in a situation like this. It's mostly because you're afraid that Yeonjun will stop spending time with you when he realizes what problems it causes, but also because he looks ready to punch someone and you don't want him to get into trouble because of you. Though he doesn't seem to care about that as he keeps pushing.

“I didn't ask you if it was something, I asked you what the fuck happened,” His voice is serious – more serious than you've ever heard him. “Just answer my question.”

“It’s not that important, okay? Let's just go.”

“But-”

“Let’s just go, Yeonjun, please,” You plead, finally meeting his gaze and watching the anger in his eyes slowly melt as you tug on his sleeve as if to keep him away from the girls behind him. All three of them are eyeing you, faces scrunched up in both shock and irritation. Yeonjun is paying them no attention right now, though, rather looking at you with an expression you can’t quite read.

For a moment, he just stays like that, staring at you for so long you start wondering if he’s studying your bone structure. But then he sighs deeply, closing his eyes for a second before draping his arm over your shoulders and helping you stand up, the warmth of his body against your side bringing a small smile to your face.

“You can walk, right?” He asks and when you nod he continues. “Let’s go to the infirmary, then.”

“It’s just a scratch, though.”

“So?” He leads you towards the school building, leaving the girls behind. “I already told you it’s hard to find pretty girls to annoy these days, so I’d rather be safe that you won’t die from this.”

You roll your eyes at his antics, but inside you can feel your heart speeding up dangerously as some kind of heavenly warmth spreads across your whole body. You might be a fool for feeling so captivated right now, but hearing him call you pretty most certainly made your blood pressure rise. It’s not like you didn’t know he finds you attractive – it’s the reason he approached you at first, after all. But it’s different somehow, hearing him say it so openly, like he’s totally unashamed of feeling that way.

It all almost makes you want to tell him that he absolutely does not annoy you in the slightest, and that if he’d ever stop giving you his attention you might just die from emotional misery. And while it is embarrassing to admit, you can’t deny you’ve grown attached to the type of affection he showers you with – the smiles he sends you, the jokes he tells, and the small, featherlight touches that he leaves on your skin like an everlasting mark.

“The infirmary’s this way, right?” You're torn away from your thoughts as you hear Yeonjun’s voice right above your ear.

“You don’t know where the infirmary is?” You ask him, smile tugging at your lips as you try to hold back the laugh that threatens to spill out of your mouth. He acts so tough, yet he doesn't even know where the school nurse resides. You're unable to keep your giggles inside when you see his annoyed expression, eyes glaring at you from above.

“Well, I haven’t had to deal with girls unable to take care of themselves before, have I?”

“Alright, then, if it’s so much trouble, I’ll just walk home and put on a bandaid myself,” You scoff at him, trying to wriggle out of his grip. That turns out to be a challenge, though, so it's your turn to glare at him.

“Cut it out,” He sighs, pulling you along as he starts walking through the hallway again. “I never said it was too much trouble, so stop acting childish.”

You smile a little to yourself as he pulls you closer to him, the scent of his perfume filling your senses as the two of you arrive at the infirmary. Unfortunately, Yeonjun lets go of you to open the door and you feel a little disappointed now that his skin isn't touching hours. Yet you walk inside nevertheless, looking around for any sign of the nurse. You can hear the door close from behind you and you turn around, letting Yeonjun know that there's nobody here.

“She’s probably on break,” You add.

You can see him roll his eyes as he walks over to the nurse’s desk, opening up the drawers in search of something – a bandaid, probably. You want to tell him that he shouldn't be doing that since the nurse isn't here, but seeing that he's already a little upset, you decide not to. Besides, he is Choi Yeonjun. He's done worse things than break into the nurse’s office to find a bandaid for a girl. A girl you're starting to wonder if he likes a bit more than he lets on.

“Sit on the desk,” Yeonjun says, making you furrow your brows in confusion. “I need to put on the bandaid, so sit on the desk.”

“Oh, okay,” You do what he says, letting your legs dangle off of the table as you sit on it, doing your best not to spread your thighs too much since you're wearing a skirt.

You can see how Yeonjun’s eyes follow your movements, and before you can even protest, he's taking off his hoodie and draping it over your legs, so that only your knee and the skin under it is exposed. Muttering a small ‘thank you’, you subtly let your eyes rest on his frame as he kneels in front of you, pouring some rubbing alcohol onto a damp cloth. He's done this before, probably, with how many times you've heard that his friends get into fights for fun.

“I can do it myself, you know,” You tell him when he brings the cloth to your knee, carefully brushing it over your scratch.

“I know.”

But he doesn't move away, nor does he meet your eyes as they look down on him – seemingly neutral, hopefully hiding the way your heart flutters at his words. Stupid heart, you think to yourself, reacting like that even though he didn't do anything much. Though that changes the moment his fingers come in contact with the flesh on your thigh as he places the bandaid on your scraped knee, brushing over it with his hand to secure it in place and at the same time, making sure that your heart gets no rest. His touch feels strangely comforting, even though he's just barely grazing your skin with the tip of his fingers. The warmth that spreads through your body at his actions disappears way too quickly when he finishes putting on the bandaid, pulling away and looking up, finally meeting your gaze.

But he definitely chose the worst moment to do so, because the look in your eyes evidently gives up what you were thinking about just a mere second ago. Who you were thinking about, that is. A moment passes by and you can't read his expression, but then a smile tugs at his lips and he gazes at you in a way that has you feeling lightheaded, head spinning in the best way possible.

But that is nothing compared to the way you feel when he stands up, moving his face so close to yours that you're breathing the same air and bringing his hands up to caress your cheeks. His gaze flickers from your eyes to your lips, and then back again, but you can't seem to gather your thoughts enough to even focus on one part of him, eyes taking in every bit of his beauty that they can gather. Your breathing is erratic and your face is burning up under his touch, heart banging against your chest and palms getting sweaty. You're warm, burning up almost, yet he manages to spread goosebumps all over your skin by just running his thumb over your lower lip, looking down on you like he's waiting for your permission.

And though it's almost embarrassing just how quick you're willing to give it to him, you don't really care at that moment. All you can think about is him – his eyes, nose, and lips that you want to kiss. So you move closer, even if by just an inch, and you know he understands what you mean by it. And you're impatiently waiting for him to do something, so infatuated with him that you can't even think straight.

It's worth the wait, though, because as he leans in to connect his lips to yours, you feel happier than you've ever felt in your entire life.

It's perfect, the kiss – slow, soft and delicate, the movements of his lips gentle, like he doesn't want to scare you away. And he's perfect, too, with his fingers touching the skin off your cheeks, caressing it like it’s his dearest possession. Your tongues melt together in a perfect combination of bliss and desire, the whole world drowned out by the taste of his lips. He's the only thing you can feel in that moment – you’re breathing his perfume, getting completely lost in the sensation of his hand dropping down to your thigh, grazing it ever so slightly and making you gasp quietly into the kiss.

He’s never touched you like this before – with so much tenderness in his caress – and you love it. You love how all of his attention is on you, and how he’s taking his time, kissing you like it’s the last time. But you hope to God it’s not, because you’re not sure if you could’ve ever moved on with your usual life after feeling his lips on yours, taking every worry and doubt off of your mind.

Your noses bump into each other, breaking the kiss and it’s an empty feeling that fills you as he pulls away. But your misery is put to an end as you open your eyes and find him still there, only an inch or so away from you with a smile on his face. And it’s a real smile, a genuine one. Not a smirk or pitiful look. It’s just pure elation radiating off of him and it makes your heart swell in your chest.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

The words roll off of his tongue so easily that you would've thought that he'd just asked you for help on his homework; not confessed his feelings for you. Which, by the way, makes your heart stop by itself because one thing is being kissed by Choi Yeonjun – being told that he fancies you is another.

“What?”

“I think I'm in love with you,” He repeats, tone dead serious and the smirk you've grown to see on him nowhere to be found. You’re pretty sure your heart has stopped beating by now, mouth hanging open as you attempt to process what’s happening.“I smile when you're happy, I miss you when you're gone, I hate it when you're sad. And, most importantly, you make me want to become a better person. If that isn't love, I don't know what is.”

Saying that you’re left speechless would be an understatement. His words quite literally make your stomach do flips, your heart basically beating inside your throat. Part of you had dreamed of this, hoped that he actually cares about you, but it's hard to wrap your head around the fact that he's not kidding. That – for the first time in his life, probably – he’s serious. And that he's awaiting an answer.

“You’re not gonna say anything?”

“Well, I’m sorry if I’m a little quiet after the school’s handsome fuckboy just told me he loves me, but it’s kind of shocking news,” You say sharply, furrowing your eyebrows when you see the smirk you know all too well spread itself across Yeonjun’s lips. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

His smile only widens as he leans down to place his face mere centimeters away from yours. For a moment, you think he's going to kiss you again, and you're about to close your eyes, but your plans are cut short when he starts speaking instead.

“So you think I’m handsome?”

You roll your eyes, half-disappointed and half-relieved that he didn't kiss you, because you're not sure whether you wouldn't have died of a heart attack if he did. “I think you’re annoying as fuck.”

“And you know what I think?” He leans forwards again, this time resting his lips against the shell of your ear and causing your breath to hitch as he speaks. “I think I’m making you nervous, sweetheart.”

You don't get to say anything – though you're not certain you would be able to, either – before his lips move to your jaw and he presses a soft kiss to the skin right below your ear. It makes goosebumps spread across your whole body and it doesn't exactly help that when he pulls away, he sends you the most knee-buckling smile paired with an outstretched hand to help you get off of the table. With slightly shaky hands, you reach for him, trying your best not to faint when he interlocks his fingers through yours. None of you bother to clean up the nurse’s office, walking through the school halls again, this time heading out.

“So,” Yeonjun says eventually, swaying your interlaced hands a little and by that, making butterflies swarm in your stomach. The grip he has on you is really annoying sometimes. “Will I get an answer? Do you feel the same way or do you not date people like me?”

You stop in your tracks, sighing softly as you turn to face, deciding that you can't hide from the question forever. Your gaze rests on your hands for a second as you gather your thoughts, before you actually look into his eyes, hoping that he can't see how anxious you are.

“I do. Feel the same way, I mean.” You take a deep breath before uttering the words that you wish you’d said sooner, because they'd been a lingering weight on your shoulders the past few days. “I think I’m in love with you, too, Yeonjun.”

“Good,” He smiles, letting go of your hand to bring his fingers to your cheek instead. “Because you have no idea just how long I've waited to do this.”

And just like that, his lips are on yours, hands caressing your cheeks so softly that it's a big contrast to the way he's kissing you eagerly. You're quick to reciprocate the actions, letting your mouths move in a steady rhythm as you slowly, but surely forget your surroundings, nothing but Yeonjun on your mind. He knows exactly what to do to make you crave more, with his hands just barely grazing your skin, leaving goosebumps on it. But when it comes to the kiss, he can't seem to hold back either, already pushing you against the wall in the hallway after only a few seconds.

You wince a little at the cold stone against your back, and instantly, he's pulling away to look at you worriedly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” You reply, not bothering to explain what happened, because your lips are already aching to kiss him. So you put your hand on the back of his neck to pull him closer, capturing his lips in a messier, needier, but just as euphoric kiss.

Yeonjun most certainly enjoys this new side of you, smiling into the kiss as his hand comes down to touch your thigh, making you gasp. Naturally, he takes this opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, and pretty quickly you're met with the taste of cigarettes and something more subtle – the taste of him. It's addicting, all of it. His taste, his touch, his smell. And he knows perfectly well how lightheaded he's making you feel when his fingers move higher up your thigh, touching the hem of your skirt now.

“Can I?” He pulls away to ask, motioning towards his hand that is on its way to slip under your skirt.

You waste no time in letting him know just how much you want him, pressing your lips to his instead of responding and guiding his hand further up your thigh, until it rests against your already damp panties. He smiles into the kiss again, running his knuckles over your clothed core, satisfied as you audibly moan into his mouth. Words can't explain how many emotions that are stirring up in your mind at this moment, but uncertainty most definitely isn't one of them. So much is evident in the way you're grabbing onto his hair, whining when his fingers run over the thin, and almost completely soaked through, fabric of your panties.

This is so new to you, but so amazing, too. It feels like heaven to have him touching you like this, to have him looking at you so lovingly, and yet so passionately.

You can't stop the small noises from leaving your mouth when Yeonjun’s fingers start drawing small circles on your clothed pussy, your panties rubbing against your heat and creating a pleasant friction. He's not kissing you now, having pulled away to look at your features and listen to all the sounds that you make at the smallest touches. Even as he pulls his hand away, you whine for him, bucking your hips a little so as to not lose the sensation.

“You’re so cute,” He coos, fingers tilting your chin upwards the moment you try to look away from him, embarrassed. “This little is enough to get you so needy.”

Before you get to say anything, his lips travel to your jaw and then your neck, spilling kisses across your skin. You gasp when he sucks on the flesh, hard enough to leave a mark, before his mouth moves upwards again, resting against the shell of your ear.

“Let’s go somewhere else, though, okay, princess?” He whispers into your ear. “This isn't exactly the ideal place to… you know.”

And just like that, his touch is gone and you're allowed to calm down a little, though the heat between your legs doesn't disappear so easily. You fix your skirt a little, a little embarrassed after turning into a whining mess for him so quickly, but he doesn't seem to mind – a bright smile on his face, so you only smile back at him and grab his outstretched hand.

“I thought you didn't have a problem fucking girls on campus, though?” You inquire as he leads you through the hall, his hand warm in yours.

“No, but I do have a problem with not taking the girl I love to my house before fucking her brains out.”

These words both cause your heart to swell and your pussy to throb painfully from between your thighs. Now you’re definitely convinced that Yeonjun’s goal in life is to make your blood pressure rise to dangerous levels. How can he say he loves you and that he wants to fuck you in the same sentence? You might have already kissed him and had his hand between your legs, but that doesn’t change the fact that your knees threaten to give in when he winks at you and continues walking like nothing even happened.

“Wow, you're really good at this boyfriend stuff for being a fuckboy,” You tell him when you’re sure your voice won’t quiver, and you’re surprised to find an even wider grin on his face when you turn to look at him.

“Oh, so I'm your boyfriend?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, and you scoff in response, rolling your eyes to assure that he doesn’t notice how your heart skips a beat.

“Shut up,” You say, but there’s no annoyance in your voice. “Yes, you're my boyfriend, happy now?”

“Yes,” You feel your whole face heat up when he presses a kiss to your cheek before the two of you finally reach his car, and he opens the door for you. “Very happy.”

—

After a few kisses and a drive that lasted only a few minutes, but felt like an eternity because of the throb between your legs and Yeonjun’s warm hand that rested on your thigh the entire time, the two of you finally arrive in front of the block in which you assume Yeonjun, your boyfriend, lives. God, it feels so weird to call him that. And to think he was a complete stranger to you less than a month ago. Now, though, you're wishing he'll never let go of your hand and your cunt is throbbing with excitement as he leads you up the stairs to his apartment.

You’ve barely made it through the doorway before Yeonjun’s slamming the door shut and pushing you against it, just like he did in the school hall earlier. Only this time, he's not holding back – his hands slipping under your shirt with ease, finding your tits and his mouth attaching itself to your neck. You let a few sounds escape your mouth when he runs his tongue over your skin, before sucking on it harshly. You're about to comment on his actions, say that he must really be into marking, but the words get lost in your throat when he rolls his hips into yours.

“Oh,” You're both fully clothed, but that doesn't make the tent in his pants any less obvious as it rests against your thigh.

Yeonjun’s expression turns into a frown immediately, and he’s quick to pull away and look at you in concern. “Are you okay? Do you want to stop?”

“What? No,” You shake your head a little too eagerly, though you suppose your irrational actions could be excused due to the intensity of the situation. You are about to get railed by the one and only Choi Yeonjun, after all. “No, I'm just worried, you know, like, it won't fit.”

The worry in his eyes dissolves at your words, replaced with a hint of amusement and cocky grin that makes your knees grow weak. You wonder whether you just should've kept your mouth shut, because what you said seems to have inflated his ego even more. Still, you don't exactly get to ponder that for long because before you know it, his hand is caressing your cheek, thumb swiping over your lower lip and you're already feeling dizzy. That dizziness all but intensifies when he leans down to let his mouth hover over your ear, barely grazing it as he speaks.

“I’ll make it fit, then.”

And just like that – as if he didn’t just knock the air out of your lungs – he grabs your hand and leads you further into his house.

As you walk inside, you're met with a simple interior – a living room connected to the kitchen and two doors, one probably leading to the bathroom, while the other to his bedroom. What surprises you the most is the clean state of the apartment. You would've mistaken it for something he'd rented out for one night if it weren't for the unwashed dishes and a pair of boxers lying on the floor by the couch. His bedroom isn't very different – a few shirts are scattered on the floor, but his bed is made and he's got a shelf full of books.

“Wouldn’t have taken you for someone this organized,” You comment with a smile, “You’re good at keeping this place clean, for sure.”

“Well, I'm good at a lot of things,” He purrs as his hands grab your waist and pull your body close to his, nose brushing over yours and his breath hot on your lips. Just like that, he's reminded you of why you're here and your stomach stirs in excitement as you speak in a quivering tone.

“Yeah? Like what?”

A smile sets on his features and he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes fanning down to your lips for only a moment before they meet yours. Your breath gets caught in your throat yet again when he teasingly runs a finger down your collarbones, before he lets it run over your arm and hip. Finally, it rests on your upper thigh, so close to your clothed cunt that if you moved your hips a little forward, his fingers would brush over the fabric of your panties. You don't have to do that, though, because a mere second later, the palm of his hand is pressed flat against your clit and you whimper loudly from the feeling.

“Like stuffing this cute little pussy full of my cum.”

And as if to mark his words, he starts rubbing his hand against your cunt, slowly drawing circles on the thin fabric of your panties which are now so wet that you fear your arousal will start to drip from them and onto your thigh. Yeonjun seems to notice this, too, because before you know it, he's pushing you onto his bed and spreading your legs, eyeing your cunt hungrily.

“So fucking wet,” He says, pushing your panties aside and pressing a finger flat against your pussy, moving it up and down painfully slowly. “Tell me, are you always this needy, baby?”

“Just–” Your reply is replaced by a whimper when he starts moving his finger faster, now also paying attention to your clit. Upon seeing his awaiting expression, you inhale sharply, trying to gather your thoughts, though that isn't very easy when Yeonjun is smearing your arousal all over your cunt. “Just for you.”

Satisfied, he smiles down on you, albeit a little condescendingly, and you take that as an opportunity to buck your hips upwards to create a little bit more friction. That doesn't seem to be Yeonjun’s plan, though, because he's quick to push your hips down again, a disapproving look on his face. You're about to complain, but before you can do that, he delivers a slap to your pussy that makes you whimper and your thighs instinctively start to close.

“Yeonjun,” You whine as he pryes your thighs apart again, still teasing you with the way he's slowly rubbing your clit, fingers barely grazing it as he does so. His touch is featherlight and you need more, or else you're certain you're going to go insane. “Please…”

“God, you're so cute when you're needy,” He coos, hand slipping under your shirt to play with one of your tits. “Now, be a good girl and let me take care of you, okay?”

You nod vigorously, and he pinches your nipple slightly before his fingers start working faster on your clit. The sudden change in pace makes your back arch and you can't hold back the moans that slip from your lips when he pushes one of his fingers inside of your pussy. His hand that is caressing your breast moves to stroke your hair as he adds another finger, stretching you out and making you clench around his digits. He's pushing them in and out of you quickly now, hitting all the right spots and definitely enjoying how you're moaning his name.

“More, please, it feels so good,” You basically cry out, rolling your hips against his hand.

This time, he doesn't tease you anymore, moving his hands to your thighs as he leans down to press an open-mouthed kiss to your clit. You whimper softly at the contact, bucking your hips up again, although your movements come to an end as he licks a stripe up your pussy, before twirling his tongue over your clit. Moaning his name, you grab at the sheets, probably ruining them in the process. Not that you care right now, because with his two fingers pumping in and out of you and his mouth sucking on your clit, it's hard to focus on anything else.

“Too much, Yeonjun, it's too much,” You whimper, grabbing at his hair, half pulling him closer, half pushing him away.

He only smiles against your folds, tongue plunging deep inside of you to replace his fingers that are now rubbing your clit quickly. One look down is enough to see that at this point, his sheets are stained with your arousal, and your pussy tightens around him at the sight. You can feel him smile into your cunt, his nose rubbing against your clit.

“Too much? If this is too much, then how are you going to handle my cock, baby?” He mumbles against your pussy and you shiver, clenching and unclenching around his tongue.

It doesn't take long before the familiar feeling of rapture stirs up in your stomach, and you know you're close to your orgasm. Yeonjun has no trouble understanding that you're about to cum from the way your hands are grilling at his hair and whimpers are leaving your mouth in series. He does nothing to slow down his movements, though, actually speeding up the way he's lapping at your pussy, his tongue reaching places you didn't even know was possible and his hand holding your hips in place so you can't move away, even when the pleasure becomes too much to handle and you're whimpering his name.

“Yeonjun, please, I–” Your voice breaks into a moan as his teeth graze your clit, and you're basically squirming under him now, thighs shaking with every lick at your pussy. “Gonna cum.”

The knot in your stomach tightens quickly, and when you're at the very edge, you pull at Yeonjun’s hair harshly to bring him as close to your dripping cunt as possible, eyes rolling to the back of your head. It's completely over for you the moment he groans into your pussy, pleasure spreading across your body like wildfire when you reach your high, a loud moan falling from your lips and your eyes screwed shut.

You stay like that for a few seconds, catching your breath, and when you finally open your eyes you’re met with a sight that instantly makes your swollen cunt start throbbing again – namely Yeonjun licking his fingers clean of your juices, a smirk on his face the moment he catches your captivated gaze.

“You taste like fucking candy, baby,” He says, moving up so his face is at your level and he can press a kiss to your jaw before he whispers directly into your ear. “If I could, I’d eat you out for hours on end, but I suppose there are other things we need to take care of first, hmm?”

You would be lying if you said he wasn’t getting you all riled up again, your pussy already acquiring its own heartbeat when you feel his hard-on pressed up to your thigh. It's straining against his pants like crazy now, and he thinks he's going to go insane if he has to hear your pretty moans again without stuffing your pussy with his cock first. Luckily, you’re thinking the same thing, tugging at his collar a little with a pout on your face as you speak.

“Yeonjun…” Your voice is shivering – there’s no doubt that you’re feeling fucked out from your recent orgasm, but that doesn’t prevent you from grinding your hips against his leg that he’s resting between your thighs. “Want your cock, please.”

Yeonjun can feel his cock twitch in his pants at your words and it only takes him a glance at your fucked out expression to give you exactly what you want – his hands coming up to help you unbutton his shirt before he discards it somewhere on the floor. Next to go are his jeans and boxers, and you can't help the way your eyes grow wide when he finally lets his dick spring free.

He’s big, and even though you knew that already, it creates a pool of arousal between your legs. You don’t even try to hide that the sight of him is turning you on, your eyes traveling around his naked body so shamelessly that you could’ve never done it if it weren’t for your current state of desperation.

You want him. Bad. And you know he knows it, too, because soon enough, he’s smirking as he hovers above you again, his breath hot on your face and his bare cock resting against your skin enough to make you feel lightheaded.

“Yeah? My fingers weren’t enough, you want my cock, too?”

You nod vigorously – it's the best response you can give at this point. Luckily for you, he doesn’t demand for you to use your words this time, instead positioning himself at your entrance straight away, the tip of his cock grazing your clit. Biting your lip, you send him a pleading look, but he only grins back, dragging his cock up and down your folds. You whimper when it rubs against your clit, throwing your head back in pleasure and grabbing at the sheets again. It feels good, but you need more of him, so you thrust your hips up to meet his, the amused look on his face telling you that he does this just to mess with you.

“Please, Yeonjun, more.”

He gives into your pleas this time, enjoying the way you whine when he removes his cock from your clit, only to reposition himself at your entrance and push into you slowly. You gasp at the feeling of being stretched out, his cock already making you feel full and you clench around him, drawing a soft groan from his mouth. You’ve barely gotten used to the feeling of him inside of you before he continues entering you – making you realize that he was merely halfway earlier.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” He mutters, hands tightening on your hips and you realize he’s resisting the urge to move.

It’s painful, the stretch, and it basically has you gasping for air when he bottoms out, your walls sucking him in and tightening around him in a way that allows you to feel every part of his cock clearly. He waits for you to get used to him, one hand slipping under your bra to play with your breast, soft fingers running over your nipple and making you arch your back, pushing your chest against his hand.

“You-” You begin, cut off by the way he pinches your nipple, making you whimper, the sound bringing a smirk to his features. “You can move now.”

And move he does, thrusting into you slowly, but strongly enough to make your eyes roll to the back of your head, mouth falling open and moans spilling out of it.

“Yeah? Feels good?” He asks, moving in and out of you leisurely, seemingly unfazed by the way you're clenching around him like crazy.

“Mhmm,” You moan in response, pulling him closer to you with your legs.

He takes the close proximity as an opportunity to move his hand from your chest to your jaw, moving it to the side so that he can lean down to press kisses to your neck. The movement makes his dick sink further into your wet cunt, and it has you closing your eyes, whimpering. His lips suck marks into your sensitive skin, nose running over those he left on your neck earlier while he keeps thrusting into you, now with the palm of his hand pressing down on your clit.

You spread your legs wider for him when he starts rubbing your clit, and he smiles against the skin of your neck before pressing one kast kiss to it, pulling away. He's looking down on you now, watching your tits bounce with every deep thrust, your vision cloudy already. The lewd sounds your pussy makes when he slides in and out are enough to make him twitch inside of you, aching to move faster, and your moans are exactly what prompts him to do just that.

He speeds up, his hand positioning your leg higher on his hip so he can pound into you from a deeper angle as he watches your face contorted in pleasure. You're grabbing onto his shoulders for dear life as he fucks you into the mattress, your head turned away and your lip between your teeth to muffle the embarrassingly loud moans and whimpers you're letting out.

“Look at me,” Yeonjun’s not having any of it, fingers sinking into the soft skin of your cheeks as he turns your head so you're forced to look at him. “You wanted me to fuck this pussy so bad and now you can't even look at me while I do it?”

It's shameful how you instantly clench around his cock when he says that, but he seems to enjoy how you react to him, fingers gripping your jaw tighter as his thrusts manage to become somehow deeper. He's making you see starts with the way his hand moves from your jaw to your throat, fingers wrapped around it as he splits you open with his cock. Your thighs are starting to shake, the knot in your stomach tightening and there's no point in attempting to hold your moans back – they manage to escape past your lips anyway.

“I’m close,” You warn him, but it sounds more like a whimper than a sentence.

This only fuels him on, his fingers working wonders on your clit while his dick reaches sensitive places you didn't know existed. You're basically drooling onto his hand now, vision hazy and whole body trembling with pleasure. The feeling of fullness is making you dizzy, making it hard to make out coherent thoughts.

“That’s it, keep taking all I give you like the good girl you are,” He groans, his cock twitching inside of your cunt. “Nobody takes it as well as you.”

You let out a loud, broken moan as you teach your high, nails digging into his shoulders and pussy clenching around his dick. Not a moment later, he's shooting his load inside of you, filling you up with his cum as you moan his name repeatedly, eyes rolled to the back of your head from the pleasure. A moment passes by for you to catch your breaths, before he's pulling out to lay down next to you.

You’re left feeling a little empty, but it doesn't matter the second Yeonjun’s arms come to pull you in for a hug. Your head rests in the crook of his neck, eyes still screwed shut as you listen to his heartbeat, and you're pretty sure it's the prettiest sound you've ever heard in your entire life. It's steady and loud against your ear, and his hot breath hitting the top of your head feels comforting.

“You look so pretty like this,” You hear Yeonjun’s voice after a while, his hand coming up to stroke your hair. “So, so pretty.”

You fight the urge to leave your eyes closed – your exhaustion finally catching up to you after two orgasms – to look up at him, and it’s definitely worth it. He looks beautiful – even more than usually – with his hair sticking to his forehead, eyelids heavy and a sheepish smile on his face. You reciprocate the grin as he presses a kiss to the top of your head, before you're lying down on his chest again, sighing softly.

“Let’s stay like this forever.”

You can feel his chest rumble with the chuckle he lets out, before he picks your hair out of your face to whisper in your ear.

“I’d like nothing more.”

And you know he means it.

#ficscafe #choi yeonjun smut #yeonjun smut #txt smut #choi yeonjun x reader

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nyanggk · 2 years

Text

PICTURE PERFECT: PARK JAYS F*CK LIST — p. js

SYNOPSIS park jay is known around your campus as a resident fuck boy. him and his friends compete in a game wherein by the end of the year, they have to complete their fuck list in order to win, but what happens when jay meets a girl who can resist his charms?

PAIRING rugby player jay × art club member reader

GENRE smut with plot, highschool au, romance , enemies to lovers, romance comedy kinda

WARNING(S) profanity, dark humour, discrimination, dubcon, alcohol consumption, bullying, smut, dom/sub dynamics (sub!jay, dom!reader), making out, corruption, degradation, male masturbarion, oral, nude painting, bulge kink, marking

WC. 28k+

— this is suppsoed to be stereotypical, yes ㅠㅠ it isn't meant to be misogynistic. it's just the world I built them in. yn/I literally stated that this is her highschool and this is what she noticed. don't send asks if you're gonna go through with it with anonymous.

In all the years you spent dwelling inside the same old boring highschool, you've come to the conclusion that in every campus, there's always three breeds of people paying amongst you that seem to avoid the brink of extinction; the slutty cheerleaders, the attention seeking fangirls, the ones that annoy you, the varsity jocks.

These varsity players are your typical ball heads who have their minds wrapped around the game and only the game. They're one way ticket to college is their varsity scholarship and inevitably making the dull-witted excuse to throw away everything related to academics and instead, centering their focus on their balls. It's stereotypical for you to say that, you acknowledge that for sure, but you can't help but speak the truth as most, if not, all of them are the same.

Albeit, yes, these are the usual qualities found in these ball fondlers, but there's a different kind laying amongst these godforesaken creatures that's even more toxic, more abominable, and those are the varsity fuckboys.

These varsity fuckboys are always entitled, period. There's never a day in their lives where they don't stop talking about their latest slutty agendas or how awestrickingly good they are at playing the game. It also doesn't really help how their fan base— which consists of ignorant, ovulating, and in heat females, not only throw compliments their way, but also themselves at every passing moment towards these good for nothing jocks. It's as if these people have lost all sense of their humanity and became objects that do nothing but lurk around the school grounds, waiting to be inserted with a schlong and become teenage mothers.

Do they even have a sense of self respect anymore?

Going back on track, it's a great dismay that all these complimenting words go straight to their head, making it even bigger.

Shame that not one ounce of it went to their dicks.

In accordance to that, yearly, these pubescent rats participate in an event called "Picture Perfect" wherein they hand pick at least more than ten different names of those who study in their school who, by the end of the year, they have to "connect" with. They mix them inside a bowl and let each one of them draw one by one. Once that person has their own paper, they have a set of rules they have to follow;

disclaimer, as per everyone's agreement and preference, only girls will be put on the list.

1. For proof, take a picture of the girl in bed or wherever while the two of you are fucking.

2. Threesomes are allowed if both players have the same person on their list.

3. Varsity players with girlfriends can't participate— unless you're Jake. We don't want to be caught in your drama.

4. First one to complete their list is the winner.

5. Failure to comply with these rules will get you disqualified from the competition indefinitely.

With that said, they have the whole school year to finish this list. Now, a year may seem too long for some, however, with the mix of competitions and practices, there's only a handful of times in a week that these boys can have a day off and hunt for their prey.

No one remembers when this whole shenanigans started nor do they remember who started it, the only thing that matters is the game and who comes out on top. They take this seriously— too seriously, you think.

For the record, they say that this game is only for fun and that no one should take it all too seriously when they lose. The prize is an ego boost for christ sake so which logical person would try so hard in such an idiotic game? If that's what you thought then you're clearly a normal person with a normal thought process along with a naturally working brain. However, it's safe to say that if you think these boys we're even one bit of the word "normal," then you're completely wrong because these ball players have rugby balls for brain cells and will do everything they can to win; showing off is a big enough prize for them to try their hardest.

A rugby team is normally composed of fifteen players. However, for this year, there will only be a total of 9 participants as the other six already either have girlfriends that they were strongly committed to— unlike Sim Jake who changed girlfriends more often than he showered, or like Riki and Jungwon who were still too young to be doing any funny business, and like Sunoo who didn't want to participate in some pathetic child's play.

Moving on, one of the many other foolish participants in this wretched dog show is Park Jongseong, otherwise known as Jay amongst his peers and the students of Decelis High. It's his second year as an athlete playing rugby, meaning this year, it'll be his second time competing. As you can tell, he wasn't so lucky on his first try, barely getting pass three when he had ten on his check list, but this year, he's determined to do whatever it legally takes to come out on top.

"Alright, dickheads!" Their captain, Lee Heeseung, calls out.

Currently, all the willing participants are sitting around a mess of multiple chairs and tables merged together as they busy themselves with writing the names for the person who'll draw their paper.

"Times up. Pass your papers." Heeseung commands with folded arms, impersonating a teacher who's instructing their students. He fetches a clear bowl and gestures for all nine members to put their papers in. Shaking the bowl, he continues on saying, "Now, as last year's winner, I strongly advise all of you to have fun and not take things overboard."

"Aw c'mon, Cap," Jay mocks in a whine. "You know everyone takes this game seriously, don't you?"

Heeseung rolls his eyes, shaking the bowl in circles. "I know but I'm still obligated to say that so I won't be involved in the fallout when one of you idiots decide to do something stupid, again." He says, eyeing Choi Beomgyu from across the table. All the puppy-faced boy does is smile at his coach sheepishly, earning snickers and nudges from the people around him as he scratches the back of his head guiltily.

Last year, Beomgyu took the game a little too seriously. It was already his third year in the rugby team and he still hasn't won. He felt antsy, wanting to experience the glory of winning, and so, knowing that Heeseung was in the lead, he did whatever he could to stop him from finishing his list. He hid the girls from the other, he told them he had aids, that he cums too fast, that he likes being treated like a dog in bed, and a whole lot more dumb shit just to keep Heeseung from winning. But all his efforts were inevitably for nothing as by the time winter break was over, Heeseung had won, laying out all the pictures he took of his one night stands out on the table at lunchtime with a cocky smirk plastered across his perfect face.

One by one, the boy's take their turns fishing for a piece of paper inside the bowl. As Jay grasps his own in the palm of his hands, he takes a look at the others' expressions when they open their own checklist.

Some cheered and some winced. Seeing the latter made Jay's confidence run through the roof, thinking that he was so lucky that he already had the upper hand on the others without having to even take a look at his own paper.

"Mark Lee?!" Choi Yeonjun screams in outrage. "Bitch! Is this even allowed?!" He genuinely asks in an outraged tone, however, the others just simply burst out laughing at his predicament, not providing him with a coherent answer.

"Cap?" He calls out to the younger, voice pleading.

Heeseung sighs out seemingly tired of the whole ordeal as he pinches the bridge of his sharp nose, scrunching his eyebrows together. "I'll change it on my own, hyung." He assures the older in a low tone, making it so that Yeonjun was the only person who got to hear what he said.

"I thought we agreed on keeping it strictly to girls?" He said, crossing his arms once again and repeatedly tapping his feet on the ground to show his annoyance. "So, which idiot was it?"

At that question, continuous screams of denial and bursts of cackling laughter erupt, occupying the small room, but Jay tunes them all out as his eyes zero onto the lack of names written on his checklist. His eyebrows knit together in confusion as usually there were at least ten different names listed on every checklist because everyone wanted to make it harder for the person who drew it. However, his list only had one.

Although writing less than ten names isn't against the rules, it's certainly out of the ordinary as he doubts anyone on his team had a heart made of gold and be that merciful.

Before he could tear his eyes away from the paper though, he caught sight of a note written beside it.

1. YN — goodluck on this one bro ;) tell me how getting pegged feels like, I kinda wanna try it soon.

Looking at the note with a mix of confusion and disgust, Jay wonders why this girl seemed so unfamiliar.

In all his years spent in the same school, he's never heard of anyone with that name before. Granted, he doesn't usually pay attention to anyone other than the boys, much less try to remember the names of the girls he fucks around with in school. He thinks they're all irrelevant and are just getting close to them because they want the attention and fame being the girlfriend— or even an acquaintance, of a varsity player gives them. But the thing is, for the sake of the competition, he has to know who you are, however, no matter how far back in his memories he searches, he still can't seem to remember who that girl is.

Eventually his curiosity takes over and asks "Who's YN?" while showing them his list and gesturing towards the only name written on it.

Hearing his question, the chattering stops and their gazes focus on the tip of Jay's finger. Jake is the one that answers his question, the rest of them stare with their mouths slightly agape. "You don't know YN? From the art club?"

When all Jay does is shake his head, the boys stare at him in a mix of wonder and shock, baffled by how oblivious the boy is when it comes to you.

"Dude, how do you not know YN?" Park Sunghoon asks in disbelief. Jay only shrugs at him in reply, wondering what the big deal about this girl was.

"Bro, Jay, whoever wrote YN down is absolutely bad-shit crazy. I got her on my list last year and she was the fucking reason I lost." Choi Soobin says, groaning. "I was so close to winning as well!" He bursts out, slumping on the back of his chair as he pouts.

Everyone knows about the rugby team's yearly antics and you're ashamed to say that nearly everyone is ecstatic whenever that time of the year comes— especially the whores. It gives them the not so once in a lifetime chance to sleep with the hottest varsity player on campus.

However, as the loner with one singular friend that you are, you'd like to say that you're different from everyone else— and you are not saying that so you could be the IRL version of YN from a Wattpad book made in 2013. You don't feel excitement coursing through your veins when the year starts. Your panties don't drop at the sight of them all sweaty and dirty while practicing. You don't try to manifest your name to be on the list so they could flirt with you, get in your pants, and then leave you cold and naked when they get what they want. They're just boys who can play one filthy sport, what's so mind blowing about that?

You hate rugby. It's not just some petty thing, you despise it with your whole mind, body, and soul. You can't ever stand that sport and you hate the fact that all school funds go to that dumb piece of shit and not your precious art club. If only your school treated the art club the same way they sucked that god forsaken sports dick off then maybe— no, not maybe, then for sure, your school would have much more elegance.

God! Just saying the word "rugby" makes your tongue bitter. Not to mention, the players! They're just horrendous; full of pride, ego, and everything bad. You just can't stand breathing in the same air.

So last year, when misfortune dawned upon you and they had the audacity to involve you in their wretched game, you blew up; like a volcano waiting to burst and set fire to the whole nation.

That year, Kang Taehyun, a rugby jock, approached you and started shamelessly flirting with you while you were having a peaceful time replicating the Mona Lisa. You erupted into a fit of anger and threw your palette covered with fresh paint onto his white varsity jacket.

Every single member of the rugby team wore that shit everywhere they possibly could. It's as if to show his underlings that he is superior. You knew it was for their weird Picture Perfect event, that's why you acted in such a barbaric way. And for the record, you regret none of it— not even when you got sent to the principal for a 3 hour scolding session.

You know who that boy is. His name is Park Jongseong and he's in the same year as you, meaning that you get to see him too many times a week for your liking. Why such a strong distaste for the boy you ask? Oh, that's because you already know what breed the scoundrel is. If that jersey wrapped around his lean body doesn't scream jock to you then you don't know what else.

Word around campus spreads fast so even though you detested hearing useless gossip, you're somewhat thankful that Liz is such a chatterbox because through her, you're able to know who everyone is in the first few months of school. Truthfully, you have yet to decide whether this trait of hers should be considered as a con or not. For example, last year, she had the bright idea of telling you that Park Sunghoon slept with a 40 year old milf, offering to spill you the rest of the details— not like she knew what the word 'milf' meant. She just tells you whatever new story she hears. Needless to say, you didn't want to hear any other features of that story. So, you weren't surprised when you caught sight of one of them throwing curious glances your way on one Monday morning whilst you were talking to your best friend, Liz, in front of your locker.

It annoyed you how he was looking at you and it made your skin crawl. Already, you could feel waves of nauseous chills skimming down your spine, making you shudder as no doubt that if he continues, your breakfast is going to spill to the floor. You could only guess that he's interested in you because you're on his list and that he's trying to make a move on you.

Before, you were used to them glancing at you out of curiosity. It's a normal thing to do when you see someone pretty on campus, but no one ever made a move to introduce themselves. Truth be told, these guys never messed with you until last year, when they found you're a hard girl to get with.

If your hunch is correct and you're in fact on the list once again then you could only wish him good luck because you aren't interested.

To you, the boy throws what looks to be a constipated looking smile your way and your lips tug further down in a frown, suddenly feeling your stomach get upset.

Although taken aback by your expression, Jay ignores it and persists to throw a charming smile your way, this time adding a small wave— both of which you turn down, only replying with the same frown on your face as you bore holes on his face with your so-called "resting bitch face." His face falters when he realises that you've indirectly turned down his gesture, scratching the back of his head in concealed embarrassment as he turns back to his group of friends as if nothing happened.

"Why's that psycho looking at me?" You ask, cutting Liz off on her rant and nudging your head towards where the guy stood.

Liz follows your stare and without warning, she squeals, jumping in place with excitement when he catches sight of the boy. "Oh my gosh, YN! Jay was looking at you?!"

With your face scrunched up in disgust, you look at your lifeline and wonder if it's too late to change friends because if it isn't, you'd pick that snot covered geek with braces back in 3rd grade any day.

"Oh don't look at me like that." She says, slapping your arm. "He is totally your type!"

Gagging, your gastric reflexes are about to show you just how displeased your whole body is with that sentence. "My type?! What do you mean by 'my type'?! Whatever my type is, it is certainly not that!" You say, repeatedly making frustrated air quotes whenever you say the word 'my type.'

"He is! Look," She persists, tangling her arms with yours and pulling you to gaze at where Jay stood. "Nice jawline, feminine and cat-like eyes, pretty lips, prominent nose, and last but certainly not the least, look at that stunning birthmark on his neck! Don't tell me you don't want to lick that." She dares on.

Now, you're ashamed. Where have you gone wrong in raising your best friend and how did she become such a disgusting simp?!

To some extent, you suppose she is quite right. Usually, guys like him would be your type. If only that varsity jacket wasn't wrapped around his body then maybe, just maybe, you would've shot your shot by now. To them, that jacket signifies authority, fame, and an excessive amount of self importance. One glance at these arrogant motherfuckers and you already know they're narcissistic and my God, you hate it.

The first ring of the school bell finally pulls you out of your murderous glare, eyes diverting from the annoying jock and moving towards your schedule instead. You sigh gratefully once you see that your first class is literature. Not only is literature class the only subject you enjoy, you also like to think that teaching students the power of words and poetry brings back some of your schools integrity.

With Liz, you travel towards the classroom with your hand possessively trapped in hers. Liz likes physical touch and even though you aren't the kind to be touchy with anyone, you'll let a few of your principles be set aside for your dearest best friend.

Your face stays neutral and observing while the boy, supposedly named as Jay, takes the seat beside yours. He ignores the complaints of your blonde headed friend as if she wasn't even there. He continues to pay no heed to Liz and when she realises he won't be moving any time soon, your friend leaves with a hmph and stomps towards the seat right behind yours.

As you enter the room, you tell Liz to pick a seat somewhere near the front and beside the windows. She nods, understanding your love for the subject and setting aside her dislike so you could have fun.

You sigh comfortably in satisfaction as you skim your hands on the newly polished face of your desk, only to be disrupted later on when you hear your friend shouting in a pouty way.

Sulking, Liz taps at your back, hoping to get some of your attention and to her delight, you turn your head towards her while your front is in Jays view. Ignoring the feeling of his eyes blatant stare at your neck, you focus on whatever gossip Liz tells you, humming and nodding every now and then to show her that you were listening.

No matter how long you and Liz have been talking, Jays fixation on you doesn't waver, only intensifying within the passing moments. Jay stares at every crevice of your body that's shown. Your neck and the exposed skin of your collarbone is what draws Jay in; pretty and plush, making it so nice to look at. Each muscle clenches as you continue to crane your neck towards your friend and it only takes his mind into a deeper frenzy, thoughts occupied with your skin and the desire to touch it. The boys mouth somewhat begins to salvate, making him take a loud gulp as he feels himself grow hotter and flustered.

Knowing how much he's been ogling at you while you're just there striking simple pose, he finds himself kind of embarrassing in this situation as he's never been one to be so easily riled up. But what can he do? it's something his body can't help but feel and the worse thing is, you weren't even doing any of it on purpose. It's all in his mind and Jay can only blame his teenage hormones for the fantasies it's creating.

Eventually, the boys strong fixation on you gets disrupted by your movements, pulling him out of his trance as now, instead of craning your neck and semi twisting your body to talk to your friend, he's met with your judging and questioning gaze. You continue to stare at Jay, cocking your eyebrows up as if to question whether he had anything to say. Still awestruck, the boy fails to form anything coherent and as a result of being caught, his cheeks start to flare up a sweet pinkish colour, one that you would've cooed at if he wasn't who he is.

Now, you're annoyed as while Liz is playing on her phone, there's an annoying jock sitting beside you. You huff feeling the symptoms of boredom spread through you. Picking up your pencil, you opt to scribble on your sketchpad, the small flower that laid idly on your table becoming your muse.

You were too busy sketching when out of the blue, you hear a deep voice speak up from beside you, ruining the serenity you've made for yourself.

"Life is the flower for which love is the honey, don't you think?" The man beside you cites, trying to mimic a poet citing his own poem. He picks up the small flower that strayed on top of your desk with his nimble fingers and gives it to you with the same smile he showed you prior to this moment. "It's a quote from Shakespeare. Have you heard of it?"

'This is it.' He thought in his head, thinking that since you were into art and literature, you were probably screaming on the inside right now because of Jays romantic gesture. He watched you as you eye the flower in his hands, his ego swelling with pride thinking that he's won you over. You repeatedly look back between his face and the flower before heaving out a small sigh. He watches your face morph into the most charming smile Jay had ever seen and at that moment, the boy felt something tugging on his heart strings.

In awe of your beaming beauty, he sat frozen on his seat as you leaned closer to Jay, taking the small flower in your hands. His breath couldn't help but hitch at the slightest contact of your fingers brushing against his as he continued to stare at you in wonder as you inspected the flower, twirling it between your long fingers.

"That's sweet, Jay." You compliment, looking at the said boy. He struggles to maintain eye contact with you, once again feeling overwhelmingly hot under your gaze— not to mention the way his name rolled out so smoothly out of your mouth. "But…" Dragging out the word, you leave Jay in suspense.

He's at the edge of his seat as waits for you to continue, cheeks flaring up as you smile at him with such a sickening amount of sweetness. Jay thinks you're going to finally flirt back at him. That all his friends' words were untrue and in reality, you're actually just a shy tsundere.

But Jay was proven wrong when you pressed the flower between your fingers, crushing it with little to no thought. "...That's from Hugo, not Shakespeare. I suggest you get your facts straight before you try to get inside my pants." You finish.

The sweet moment between the two of you ended the moment those words left your mouth and pierced its way through Jay's confidence. With your eyes, you dared for him to retaliate, but just like how you expected, Jay was too embarrassed that his brain couldn't even process what was happening. Gone was the pretty smile that Jay's so head over heels for as now, an annoyed expression falls upon your features— a complete one-eighty in just a span of five seconds.

"Also, do me a favor and leave me out of your dumb fucking game."

After that, Jay was too ashamed to stay in your presence. So, wanting to keep the rest of his dignity, he left with his head bowed down. The action prohibited you from seeing his reddened face which he was thankful for. Instead, he made his way towards the back of the class and picked a seat a few chairs behind you, making it so that he could still watch you freely from afar without your knowledge.

For the sake of his pride, he tried to think that he only left because class was starting and because he didn't want to be stuck in the same seat when he's done doing his business with you. However, he knows those words were all lies— a way for him to deny his blossoming feelings.

Jay can't seem to understand how you made his heart pound so hard, ear deafening from the relentless beats that was orchestrated by your mere presence. He's not one to blush like an idiot in front of someone and he's certainly not one to feel like his heart had been thrown until beaten and battered by one negative gesture. You make him feel something foreign, something he's never felt before in his life. It scares him in a way; not being able to put into words how he's feeling. There's something about the way you feel so strongly disgusted by him that makes him want to provoke you even more, wanting to see more ways you'll respond. He sees the fire crackling behind your eyes whenever he looks at you so why is it that even though he knows he'll get burnt, he's still dying to touch you?

There's clearly something wrong with him.

He knows it's unhealthy; wanting to get closer to you when you clearly don't like him, but he can't help it. He's drawn to you in some mind consuming type of way and he's willing to do anything just to get an ounce of your attention.

His feelings are still confusing to him because just hours ago, his mind was so enveloped in winning, willing to do whatever it takes just to have you in bed and get the glory he so despretely wants. But now that he's gotten a glimpse of what it's like to be occupied by you, the objective has changed. It's not about the game anymore because fuck the game. Right now, he couldn't give a shit about winning— okay, maybe a just little bit.

Of course, he still has the game to thank for introducing you to him and he still wants to rub his victory onto his teammates' face like Heeseung did when he won. But right now, all he wants is to have you.

It's your second month back in school and Jay hasn't let a single moment in literature class pass by without him trying to get on your nerves. It seems as if God has put your morals to the test because each time he opens his mouth, your hand seemed to itch for some impact, preferably on someones face.

His routine would always be to sit beside you when class hasn't started yet, try and build up a conversation with you in which you'd reply with something dry, he'd ignore it and continue to talk about his day whether it would be about practice, rugby, or just how his day went in general, and then go back to his permanent seat when the bell rings.

If you're being honest, in the past you would've been so dejected, disgusted, and nauseated by the fact that you're even within five metres in range of one of them.

When have you gone wrong in raising yourself and where have your principals gone?

Granted, if the opportunity to get rid of him ever came, would you still take it?

They're still insufferable, you know that for sure. But after finding out that no matter how hard you try and kick Paek Jay out of your life, there's no reason to keep trying anymore and that you've completely given up. You've tried everything you could imagine just to steer away from him. There was no way in hell that you'd ever change classes so instead, you opted to convince the boy to work his magic and change classes and go somewhere, preferably, far far far away from you. But of course, as you can tell, that didn't work. There was also a time where you tried to ignore him in hopes of him finally giving up, however, to no avail, he was persistent and didn't relent. You've also begged Liz to not let Jay switch seats with her before class, but to your luck, your best friend seems to have her mind wrapped in the fantasy that you and Jay are just perfect for eachother.

She kept on giving you the reason that God would bring her back as cockroach if she got in the way of your blossoming love. So believe me when I say, you've tried it all.

"Hey, YN." He greets cooly, casually sliding in Liz's seat. Already used to it, your friend just shrugs, momentarily switching seats with the boy as she knows that he'll eventually switch back.

Without turning your head to face him, you only reply with a hum, respectfully acknowledging him despite your dislike.

Jay ignores your clear lack of interest before he heaves out a deep loud sigh. He throws his head back, adam's apple protruding at the middle of his throat as you peek at him brushing his hair back.

It's hot. He's hot. But you bury that feeling deep down, shaking the thought away. You return your focus towards where your phone lay in the middle of your desk. The screen opens, a quiet beep catching your attention. You were about to ignore it, suddenly feeling too tired to socialise, but to your dismay, it doesn't only catch your attention but also of the man sitting beside you.

"Mrs. Hwang sent you a message, YN." He informs you, head now resting comfortably on your desk. "Should I open it?"

He leans over towards your side, an arm sliding on top of your desk, resting in front of you while the other rests behind you, on top of your seat like a boyfriend trying to gatekeep his girlfriend. You would've tried shaking him off if you weren't aware of the fact that he would put it back either way. His head is right next to yours as he eyes the message on your phone and you can't help but catch a whiff of the delightful scent of his shampoo. Trying to stay composed, you sit idly in your seat as you watch Jay scan through the notification on your lock screen as if it was his own.

You scoff in disbelief, rolling your eyes to feign annoyance. "No, gimme that." You say, snatching the phone away from his view.

Pouting, Jay sits up from his seat, suddenly feeling more invasive than usual as he rests his head on top of your shoulder to watch you reply to the message your art teacher had sent you. Feeling vexed, you shrug your shoulders harshly, trying to shake Jay off of you only to fail. After multiple times of trying to take him off, you finally heave out a defeated sigh, gathering all the composure you have left in your body to not beat him up. Eventually coming to terms at the fact that Jay isn't going to let you have your own space, you accept your fate and let him stay there as you tap your fingers on the screen of your phone to answer your teachers request.

Mrs Hwang (Art Teacher): YN, we still don't have a male muse for the portrait project tomorrow. Do you mind asking some friend of yours to volunteer?

Is she insane or just totally oblivious? Everyone knows you're an art geek loner. You're already thankful to have one friend permanently stuck to your hip so, when did she ever get the impression that you had more?

"Ooh, looking for a male muse?" You jump at the sudden voice, completely forgetting the boy that laid on your shoulder against your will.

"Can you stop meddling with other peoples businesses?" You say, now feeling actually annoyed because you have to worry about having to find a muse for your art class. It's not even like you can say no as well. Your teacher loves and adores you. At this point, she treats you like her own kid because she acknowledges the drive you have to share your painting with the world. She also said that she'd be happy to offer you an internship with one of her fancy artist friends once you're done with school and you just can't mess up your chances.

Ignoring your clear irritation, Jay continues, "I can be your muse." He suggests, smirking.

"In your dreams, Jongseong." You say clicking your tongue whilst not meeting his eyes.

"Hey!" Jay exclaims. "I told you to call me Jay not Jongseong." He presses on, tone persistent as he leans his face closer in order to persuade you. However, you don't give him an ounce of your attention, refusing to give him the satisfaction. And so, he chases you, body unconsciously pressing onto your side while he busies himself. Amidst your teasing, you don't realise this either, too busy trying to suppress the grin fighting to form between your lips.

Your playfulness lasts for a few more moments before Jay finally grunts out in defeat, letting his head fall on top of your desk with a thud. "YN, look at me." He whines like a child.

Rolling your eyes as you heave out what seemed to Jay as a deep and tired sigh, you finally turn your face to look at him. A deadpan expression is on your face as you await his next actions. Seeing that you've finally given in to his request, Jay feels his stomach start to flutter, tickling him and making him feel bubbly. The smile on his face is adorable, pleased that he's victorious and this time, you fail to keep the corners of your lips from twitching upwards.

Even your laugh is beautiful to him and he can't help but want to hear more. He's tempted to crack a joke or do something dumb in order to push you over the edge and reveal more of the amazing sounds that comes out of your mouth. But he decides against it, thinking that instead of making you laugh, he might overstep his boundaries and ruin his chance with you— well, that's him thinking he has one.

Seeing a genuine version of your smile is what sets Jays heart into a frenzy, a billion flutters that set his heart soaring through the roof. Flustered, Jay ducks his head in an attempt to hide his giddiness from you. However, he inevitably fails when he hears a chuckle escape from your mouth. His head shoots up, eyes wide and unbelieving. His heart seemed to have accelerated faster than what he could imagine, face now burning a deep red.

Clearing his throat while fixing his blazer, he resumes. "I'll be your muse." He says, tone trying to show you that his decision is final.

"No, Jay." Despite being delighted that you've used his prefered name like he's asked you too, he still frowns. Again, his pout is adorable and you almost want to give in and let him take on the job.

"But, why?" He whines, shaking defiantly in his seat. "I'll be a great muse!"

Notwithstanding, you roll your eyes for what seemed like the umpteenth time this whole interaction. "I said no." You say firmly as if commanding the boy.

His adorable pout turns into a bigger frown upon being rejected. However, the expression doesn't stay for long before it morphs into one you can only assume as mischievous as his plump lips turn into a plotting smirk, eyes gleaming with playfulness.

Seeing that, you squint your eyes at him, brows furrowing as you try to depict what's behind that look. "I swear to god, Jay. If you're planning something…"

"What? I'm not doing anything." In contradiction to his words, his face tells you that he is plotting something. If it isn't the way his smirk doesn't relent and the way his eyes still bask in the same glint, it's the way he finishes his reply with a teasing tone, clearly choosing to defy you despite your clear warning.

You were about to call him out on his actions when you're suddenly being cut off by the bell ringing and not even a second later, Jay is pushing back his seat and striding towards his own. With his hands in his pockets, there's not a doubt in your mind that he's still wearing the same smug look as he sits down on his seat. You eye him from afar and when he notices this, he gives you a curt nod, brows rising upwards as if to ask you if you needed anything as he grinned.

Why are you so against Jay being the art clubs muse, you ask?

Truthfully, you should've been ecstatic to find out that Jay, one of the hottest guys on campus— Liz's words, not yours, wanted to volunteer. So why are you prohibiting him from doing so?

Is it because you only want the two of you's interactions to strictly be inside this classroom and nowhere else? No, not really. Is it because you're ashamed to be seen by your other club members being associated with his type? Deep down, you know that's not true. In fact, you're sure that when Jay steps inside your club, he'll be bombarded by his female art geek admirers and you'll be thrown aside and forgotten. Maybe, that's what you're opposed of; having to share him with other people.

Does this mean that you're jealous? No, no, no, it can not be that. It can't possibly be that. If you're jealous, then that means you like him and you know you do not like him. In fact, he can go ahead and be a brat and ignore what you said. He can walk in there tomorrow and be crowded with fangirls and you won't even bat an eye.

If you see one person tugging on his blazer one more time, you swear to every God up there that you're going to commit a vital sin and you can only pray that they forgive you. You hate to admit it, but your right eye is twitching. Not just once, not twice, but every time some random person touches him and it's infuriating you— both the fact that someone's touching him and the fact that your eye is twitching without your consent.

Again, you're not jealous.

There you stood with your arms crossed over each other, away from the small crowd that had formed around Jay. Your back is pressed against an empty wall as you watch them gush about how hot he is, how handsome he looks, how great his physique is. It all makes you scoff, clicking your tongue as you look out of the window in annoyance after you see the smirk that paints Jays lips when he sees the annoyed expression on your face.

Despite practically being mobbed and having every female member of your art club pressed against him, his eyes are on you and there's not a single doubt in your mind that he's doing this to set you off.

The girl in front of him catches his attention when she suddenly throws herself at him. Jay only chuckles before his eyes flicker towards you and you swear a light bulb just lit up beside his head.

The excited girl starts talking animatedly at him and he makes it look like he's invested in what she's saying. He even did that panti dropping move where he swayed her hair back behind her ear. Afterwards, he looked for you, a cocky smile painted across his features, knowing full well that he did that to get a rise out of you.

He's certainly loving the attention, isn't he?

Despite your prohibitions, that hard headed motherfucker still had the nerve to come. Hence, why you have a permanent scowl on your face.

The moment Jay introduced himself as your friend and that you've brought him here as todays muse, you knew you were in for a fun time— note the sarcasm. To Jay, this must be all fun and rainbows, but to you, this is hell on earth. Admittedly, you're embarrassed to be caught with the likes of him, especially when you've vocalised time and time again how much you hate people like him. Yet, here you are, watching your art teacher usher everyone to take their seats in front of their easels while Jay sits on a sturdy table placed at the centre, posing attractively with his hands resting behind him on the table as he leans backwards. His gaze is pretty and somewhat intimidating to look at from an outsiders point of view, his lips sitting comfortably in its normal pout.

Abiding by your teachers words, you sit on your own chair and surprise surprise, it's placed right in front of him. Jay didn't know that that was your assigned seat, but seeing so, his lips had a mind of their own as no matter how hard he tried to stay still like how your teacher had asked him to be, the corners of his mouth still tinged upwards.

Already accustomed to Jays teasing antics, you only heave out a tired sigh, shaking your head in defeat as you pick up your pencil.

Might as well draw him while you're at it, right?

Truth be told, it has been a while since you've drawn someone, so you wonder how you'd do and surprisingly, you're good at it. It was scary at first, feeling nervous that you might mess up, however, the longer your pencil drags on top of your paper, the more you feel at ease. Drawing someone as pretty as Jay made you appreciate the finer things in life; the way his nose stood ever so perfectly at the center of his face, how his collarbone peaked through the shirt he wore, how his hair seemed to have been placed perfectly without effort, and lastly, the way his body looked so inviting despite being covered. All of that combined with the natural lighting of the sunset peeking through the glass windows made everything so much more appealing. Using the excuse of drawing him, you hide between the mask you wore in order to not seem like a hunter salivating for its prey as you continue to draw the guidelines for your portrait.

"I didn't know you had friends on the varsity team."

Turning your head, you come face to face with An Yujins annoying smirk plastered on what you could only assume is her face. Most of the time, you can't really tell if it's her ass or her face that's in front of you because she pushes both onto any guys face. You didn't even notice that she was sitting beside you until she opened her mouth, too preoccupied with sketching the greek god in front of you to care about her existence.

She's the definition of an ugly jealous slutty cheerleader that wants everything nice for herself. You don't even have a single clue why she's part of your club nor how she's still in it since she rarely ever attends. To add to that, you've never seen her pass a single one of her projects.

Above all the days in the week she could've chosen to come, she just had to go today and see you with the one and only varsity fuck boy.

"Well, to be honest, I'm surprised you have any friends at all."

People like her are the type to make fun and point their fingers at you for wearing your grandmas hand knitted sweaters and they're just the worst! Seriously, how can someone hate something made by someones old grandma?! The audacity these people hold still baffle you to this day, although not as much as before.

Through the years, Yujin seemed to have grown a liking for you. A liking you never asked for nor wanted. You had no idea why but she just loved to make fun of you every chance she got. It didn't matter how petty she looked nor did it ever matter to you when she tried to belittle you with rude comments and backhanded banter. Honestly, you're more upset at the fact that her jokes were never funny. If it was, you'd laugh, no matter if it was supposed to offend you because hey, if it's funny, it's funny. For instance, yesterday, she made fun of you for wearing your reading glasses, saying that you looked like you're an old maths teacher who's either widowed or divorced. A week ago, she caught you eating a chocolate bar in front of your locker while you were casually minding your own business with Liz and she told you how fat you were getting. You were about to tell her to get lost when Liz decided to fight back and told her that she had more fat rolls than Fat Amy. That little firecracker! Ugh, you just love her to bits.

In the early days, you would fire back at her mercilessly, coming up with the wittiest of replies, but before you knew it, you grew up. Suddenly, you felt spent. You got tired of the whole cat and mouse bickering and for once, you turned your life upside down and chose to be mature. That didn't seem to have sat well with Yunjin though as from then on, her attempt to torment you went from every so often to very often. Of course, being the strong and independent woman that you are, you never took any of her insults to heart— not like they offended you either way. You simply ignored her or told her to get lost and that you weren't interested. Obviously, she gets angry but being the pussy that she is, you knew she was never going to get into anything physical with you because if she did, she'd lose in an instant. With that lanky ass body of hers, even your four year old sister can.

So, wanting nothing to do with the likes of her, you divert your attention back to the hunk of a man that sat in front of you. However, you're greeted with a different expression than before as now, his brows are furrowed with wonder and question. He looks at you silently, his eyes somewhat shining thinly with jealousy and betrayal while his normal pout drags down into a frown as if to ask how you could take your eyes off of him when he's laid out in front of you so deliciously.

"Mr. Park, please refrain from moving your face." Your art teacher asks.

Jay replies with a grunt at being told off before he looks up front. He lets out a satisfied hum when he sees that your eyes have found their way back to him, now happily resting them back in their previous form.

After that small fiasco, Jay tried his hardest from then on not to move. He didn't want to cause any more commotion and make you fuck up the portrait you were drawing of him. He wanted to see how well you sketched him later on when the session was done.

Staying still for an hour proved to be harder than he thought, especially when your eyes looked so deeply at every part of him. After a torturous ten minutes of you looking at every detail of his face, he's fought and lost to the blush that persistently wanted to make its way up his cheeks when he saw you eyeing the skin of his throat. Correct him if he's wrong but he swears he can see the way your eyes fire up after he took a huge gulp. The way you were staring every time his adams apple bobbed or when the muscles on his neck flexed made him even more flustered.

He fought the urge to recoil with every feeling of you overwhelming him in such a public scene, suppressing the sexual thoughts that clouded his mind. You were doing nothing but what you were asked to do, so why does he feel so bothered by something he's supposed to be used to? Girls staring at him is a normal occurance to Jay, but for some reason, you make him feel overwhelmed.

Jay is terrible at concealing his thoughts and it's apparent in the way he avoids eye contact that you're the reason behind it. Seeing just that, you try to hide the egotistic smirk that’s on your face, not wanting to stand out amongst your peers. In an attempt to recollect yourself, you intake a hefty breath before rolling your shoulders back to loosen your tensed muscles before going back to work on adding shadows onto your portrait.

From then on, the minutes passed by staring at you. I mean, what else was he supposed to do? It kept him preoccupied and it gave him the excuse to stare back at you; the way your brows furrowed together in concentration, the way you pout whenever he assumes you made a wrong stroke, heck, he even longed to crane his neck to the side so he can see more of the way your fingers wrapped elegantly around your pencil. Everything about you seemed so enchanting to him, captivating him and encasing him in your prison. He's addicted to having more of you and he's driven to have just that because one way or another, Park Jay always gets what he wants.

The hour soon then passed and before he could even grasp what was happening, your teacher's already patting him on the back, telling him how good he did.

As asked, you all lean your canvases on an empty wall, awaiting for your teachers evaluation as the others compare their respective portraits with each others. Jay was told by your teacher he could leave if he wanted, but like he said earlier, he wanted to have a look at your portrait. So, he declined.

Jay never had any interest in art and poetry, but since meeting you, he feels like a whole new person. Never in his lifetime did he have to search the web for romantic poems nor has he ever awed when looking at someones canvas and yet, here he is. Everything he's doing is foreign, like the way you make him feel. And as he continues to stare at the portrait you drew of him, he's once again in awe of you. He can't help but wonder how someone can be so perfect doing something they're passionate about.

Folding your arms, you stand next to Jay, patiently waiting for his feedback because after all, he is your muse. "So," You start, palms pressing onto your thigh to wipe off the thin layer of sweat forming. "How'd I do?"

The boy jumps. He didn't notice you were there, standing beside him. "G-Good! Really good, actually." He answers, stuttering to blurt out an answer. Jays cheeks blush, feeling flustered.

Heaving out a sigh in relief, you chuckle at yourself, finding it funny how you were nervous for nothing.

Jay clears his throat, trying to compose himself before blurting out his next response. "You must've enjoyed looking at me a lot, huh?"

And just like that, the adorable smile on your face is wiped off, a frown replacing it. However, Jay isn't complaining because as much as he loves that cute smile on your face, he's just as deeply in love with the fire in your eyes whenever you get annoyed at him. He thinks your scowls are pretty, it makes him want to tease you more often and that's just what he does to you every single day after that.

The day he saw the way you scowled at him after he teased you, is the same day his heart seemed to have fallen for you. And along with his heart, came his body next as it seemed to have always yearned to be either close or next to you.

That's why you never thought much of it.

Since that fateful day, Jay has gotten even touchier than he already was. As time went by, it started to evolve from Jay poking his fingers at your sides for fun, to jumping you and taking you in for a hug whenever he sees you in the hallways. It was never romantic though and was always accompanied by a teasing glint.

Granted, you did get angry every time he tried touching you, still deeming him as more of an acquaintance rather than a close friend. However, as moments pass, Jays repetitive routine of touching, teasing, and then annoying you became as normal as you and Liz walking to school together. Although you never asked for Jay to be in your life, there's no doubt that it'd feel incomplete without him.

Over the course of the months, you've developed an odd relationship for the boy. It kind of makes you reminisce of the time you and Yujin used to bicker. The difference is that Jays mischievousness always takes one of three forms; flirty pick-up lines, defiance, and lastly, clinginess. Out of the 3, you adore the first one the most and could make good riddance of the second. As for the last one, you're only left confused.

Jays pick-up lines are to die for. They're always either humourly cheesy or impeccably horny— both of which makes you double over laughing even when he hasn't finished his line yet.

"I'm not even playing cards right now and I pulled a queen." Jays triumphant grin is contagious and no matter how hard you hold back your laughter, you just can't— especially when Liz is cackling behind you.

"That's so stupid, Jay." You say, shaking your head. Contradicting your own words, your smile is evident and Jay can't get enough. So, he decides to tell you more, hoping to get the same, if not, a better reaction out of you.

"You know," He starts. "I'm like Nike and you're like McDonalds."

"Oh yeah?" Seeing the smirk on Jays face only makes your own grin grow wider as you await to complete his joke, already at the edge of laughter. "Why?"

Clearing his throat, he answers. "Because I'm just doing it and you're loving it."

"Oh my god." You sigh before covering your face to hide the guilty smile you wore while your giggles furiously try to break free. "Now, that's just you being horny Jay."

Wanting to see your bright face, Jay leans closer to your seat. He wraps his fingers around your wrist in an attempt to pull them away from your face, but to his dismay, you don't budge. "Let me see you~" He whines.

"No~" You drag, mimicking his tone. "That was so bad!" You press on, feeling a mix of frustration and disappointment in yourself for laughing at such a stupid pick-up line.

"You clearly love it!" He exclaims, teasing you while leaning his face closer to yours despite it still being covered by your hands. "Now let me see you!"

"No, I don't." You fire back, pulling your hands away and looking at him. "But, tell me more."

Second, the boys defiance brings edge to his comical personality. Jay lives to see the enraged look on your face whenever he defies your simple orders and he'd never admit it to you himself, but that's what gets him going.

At night, when he's all alone with his thoughts, his mind fills with scenes of him under you, begging for mercy. With all the authority you like to show, there's not a single hint of doubt in his mind that you like being in control, and he's willing to give you just that. Above all the women he's been with, you've repeatedly brought out a side of him that even he was heedless of— and this isn't any different.

Laying with his chest up and back pressed onto the soft fabric of his mattress, Jays breath quickens as he pushes himself to dive deeper into his fantasy. The thought consists of you and only you. With his hands dragging across the wide of his chest, he imagines it's your long and slender ones and not his. He drools at the possible feeling of your nails scratching on his body, making him release a quivered breath.

Already feeling the pent up frustration building up in his boxers, he pushes his hair back before groping his hardening dick. He presses the palm of his hand directly on it, teasing himself as he envisions the proud look on your face as you watch him crumble under your supposed touch.

"Fuck this." He concludes before pushing himself off of the mattress. Reaching beside him to open his bedside drawer, he grabs something he usually only uses for desperate times.

Jay gets bitches. So, there's simply no need for pocket pussies and fleshlights. But there'll come a time in a varsity players life where sleeping around is simply impossible to do. When schedules are pact with classes he has to attend to, practices he has to participate in, and rugby matches he has to win, there's just no time to be flirting. So, he bought a fleshlight just to solve that predicament.

Leaning back and getting comfortable on his bed, Jay leans against the headboard and quickly shakes off his pajamas, lifting his hips up in the process. Once that was off, he watched as his cock lay tensed and angry on top of his stomach, ready for any sort of pleasure. Already feeling impatient, Jay spurts a good amount of lube inside the toy and afterwards, he spits on it, letting the lube mix with his own lubricant.

Feeling his breath growing faster as the excitement grows, Jay brings the toy closer to his dick. His mouth salivates, anticipating the pleasure that's yet to come. "Shit, YN. Just give it to me already." He says as he imagines you teasing him, lining the toy close to his dick.

Finally taking the whole skin of his leaking head inside, Jay releases a cross between a broken moan and a satisfied groan before taking all of his dick inside it all at once. Immediate pleasure fills the boys consciousness as he takes his bottom lip in between his teeth to suppress himself from moaning too loud. It's been too long since he's had any sort of pleasure from anything, mind too caught up in your existence. Not to mention the fact that he literally only wants you and no one else. After Jay found out that his feelings for you were growing more intimate than he'd like to, he tried his hardest to get hard for someone else.

The boy has never had a crush on anyone and naturally, he felt scared— both at the unknown and the possibility of being rejected. So, he went out to parties, tried to hook up with the usual sluts around campus. But whenever someone other than you touches him in any sort of provocative way, his mind just shuts down and his body starts reacting in a negative way. What used to be Jays favorite pastime now became his worst enemy because from then on, Jay couldn't think of having sex with anyone other than you. Soon enough, Jay accepted the fact that he can never have someone better than you. You've never even flirted with Jay yet his mind is already creating scenarios of the two of you together.

That's when he started working harder to get close to you because maybe, just maybe, if he played his cards right, you might end up liking him back. It doesn't even have to be on the same heights as his feelings for you. If he succeeds and you like him back just a tiny ounce, then he can die happy. If he doesn't succeed and he fails to make you fall in love with him then it'd be a curse he'd have to bear with for the rest of his life because he knows that despite it, he couldn't ever leave you alone anymore.

He imagines the scenario of you chuckling at him, mocking him for breaking apart so easily, calling him your desperate little slut in the process. Too immersed, Jay replies, "S-Shit. 'M not your slut."

The sounds of the toy squelching with every pump drives Jay mad, mind growing hazier by the minute. The toy makes him feel wonders and he's only left to imagine how good your pussy would feel if you ever let him fuck you. He thinks that if a toy feels this good on his dick, then there's no way you won't feel euphoric once he gets a chance to bury his dick inside your wet cunt.

It's not even past five minutes and yet, he can already feel his high approaching so quickly. With his mind flooded with images of you, his hand guides the toy faster, trying to drive him over the edge of his orgasm before pulling the toy off his dick completely.

He chokes out a small cry in vain as all the pleasure vanishes. A string of curses leaves his lips after, not believing the fact that he's actually torturing himself just to get a taste of you in his imagination.

He envisions you doing this to him; bringing him close to ecstasy and then taking it all away right before he can get the chance to cum. It's torturous having to repeat the same agenda on himself, especially when it's not you actually doing it. But he does so either way despite the pain and after a few more agonising denials, Jay finally decided to change positions.

Now positioning himself on all fours, Jay takes a pillow and places it right below his groin, resting the toy on top after. His right hand holds the fleshlight in place while the other rests on top of his pillow as leverage. Feeling comfortable again to resume his actions, he inserts his dick back in the toy, throwing his head back in pleasure as he releases a long dragged moan of your name.

Jay starts thrusting into the toy with more vigor, jaw flexing as he clenches his teeth together. "Come on, Jay." Your voice says from inside his head. "Prove to me you aren't some worthless toy I can easily throw away."

Without wasting any more time, Jays thrusts grow near animalistic, pounding into the toy with more force. Lube mixed with his precum drips onto the mattress whenever he makes the move to retract his dick from the toy before drilling it back inside.

If there's anything in this world that Jay holds dear, that's you… and his pride. Jay knows he's good at everything so, when you, his beloved crush, tells him that he's practically a piece of filth you can't wait to throw away, Jays body fills with rage. How can you come up with such a lie? Those days that were filled with staring at you didn't go to waste because now, Jay feels like he knows your body inside and out. He knows every dip on your body, every mole visible on your skin and if there were more that he hasn't yet discovered, then he'll make sure to scout for them when he gets the chance to. He's determined to prove to you that he's irreplaceable, that no one can give you a better time than he does.

"Fuck, YN." He pants your name out, voice shaking with each powerful thrust. "I'm so close, YN. I'm gonna cum."

He tried to wait longer, he really did. He didn't want to cum in his own hands. Instead, he wanted to cum in your presence, wanting to show you how hot he looks when he cums. But inevitably, he failed.

Chanting your name, Jay finally lets himself reach his own high. With his body lurched forwards as he presses his face onto the sheets, his hips grind onto the toy while he rides himself off of his high, filling the toy with a huge load his hot cum.

His gut tells him that you'd love to humiliate him after. He can see you telling him how dumb he is for letting himself cum before you and he can only imagine how you'll punish him. Would you sit on his face and tell him to eat you out until you cum on his tongue? Or maybe, you'd tell him to sit down and ride him until you're satisfied, ignoring his pleas despite the overwhelming feeling of your vagina on his cock after he just came?

Either way, he's drunk and spent. But despite that, he won't make it easy for you. With all his might, he'll talk back and fire senseless retorts at you, wanting to drive you over the edge of insanity, completely unaware that it's already happening to him.

Lastly, Jays clinginess is something you didn't think you'd get used to this fast. All that talk about not wanting to be in the same vicinity as rugby players seemed to have flown past your head because look at you now; a jock practically purring on your shoulder as it napped. For a gym addict, Jays body is strong yet gentle, muscular yet soft, and heavy yet light. Polar opposites yet they conjure up the perfect qualities for a human being.

You have no idea how you two got into this situation nor do you remember who instigated it. The only thing you know is the feeling of comfort being close to Jay brings. It's odd, feeling the skin on skin contact with someone you're supposed to despise. Yet, you don't have the will-power to pull away. Perhaps, you have Jay to blame for that. Maybe your resolve isn't as strong as you think and you're developing feelings that're deeper, more romantic.

How did you let yourself fall for him?

One Friday afternoon when your literature class unfortunately got cancelled, the whole class was told that they were free to go and spend their vacant time however they wanted. Finding nothing else to do, you offered to go out to the school field and have a small picnic date together with Liz. But with your pro procrastinator best friend having a ton of pending assignments left, she told you to just go there with Jay while she tries finishing some of them.

Of course, still refusing to prove Liz right, you fake vomited, telling her that there was no way in hell you were going to have a picnic with Mr. Hot Shot Rugby Player and proceeded to go alone. Luckily, the said boy didn't hear your best friends suggestion and you were able to have a moment of peace before you realize that Jay was actually following behind you all this long.

"Jay," You call out his name in warning. "What're you doing here?"

"Nothing really. Just casually strolling since I have nothing to do." He answers, eyes staring at the horizon as his hands rest inside his pockets in a carefree manner. "Oh, having a picnic? Mind if I join?"

The boy doesn't give you a chance to reply before he's already making himself feel comfortable on the blanket. Prior to this, you had set up the blanket near a tall tree. You wanted to enjoy the cold breeze outside without the scorching heat of the sun burning your skin.

Noticing the small canvas that sat idly on top of the blanket, he asks, "You gonna paint?"

Accepting your fate and the fact that you aren't going to get rid of him, you take a deep breath as you try to compose your thoughts. "Yeah, I was planning to."

"Well, don't let me stop you, babe." He says right before leaning back on his hands, feeling smug.

Complying with his words with a huff, you take the small canvas in your arms either way. With your watercolor paint set securely on top of the picnic blanket, you take a fine brush, ready to start painting whatever comes to mind when Jay speaks. "Do you think you can draw me again?"

"No," Thinking that you're done, an immediate pout makes its way onto Jays face and he's ready to convince you otherwise when suddenly, you cut him off by finishing your sentence. "I don't have a pencil right now. I only have these with me." You add, gesturing towards your palette.

At that, Jay nods his head in understanding, however, a pout is still set on his face, yearning to be your muse once again. Looking over to him, you watch his face silently and while oblivious to your stare, Jay picks up a few small pebbles laying near the tree. He tosses them towards the distance, finding nothing to do. You sigh, feeling yourself cave in. "Come here then. I guess I can paint your silhouette or something."

Like an owner calling their cute kitten over, Jay whips his head towards your direction, feline eyes shining immensely with happiness before he conceals it, wanting to play hard to get. "Nah, I don't wanna bother you." He says in a mockingly sad tone.

Rolling your eyes at Jay antics, you pull his arm lazily so he could lean closer to you. "Come on, Jay. Before I change my mind."

Though it wasn't the first time yours and Jays skin has touched, it was the first time you instigated it. Jay has always been the one touching you, being clingy, and annoying— It was never you. The feeling is new and he can't help but freeze at the contact. Even after, his cheeks are set ablaze as the skin of your arms are still pressed together while he sits stiffly next to you. Noticing this, you ask, "You okay, pretty boy?"

Clearly, you said the name to tease him. Since day one, you were in love with the picture of Jays face looking dangerously red and flustered. Wanting to see the look on his face that you missed so dearly, you used the nickname in hopes to see it again. And it worked, Jays posture goes stiffer, his back straightening while he holds his breath.

A simple act of skinship initiated by you is new to him, although he knows it doesn't have the same effect on you as it does him. The gesture also doesn't tell him what your feelings are for him. But this, a pet name, was something he could only imagine receiving from you and here he is now, receiving it. It makes him speechless, mind searching desperately for a comeback that conceals how weak he is for you, but he fails to do so, heartbeat beating too loud for his mind to function.

From your perspective, Jays reactions are always adorable. Yes, he has his moments wherein he acts like a brat— a spoiled one at that, but you can't deny the fact that you're willing to entertain him. It's something that's beyond your grasp, something uncontrollable. You do it so often and most of the time, you aren't even aware of it. Your body just seems to react that way to him, whether you like it or not. Right now, you know deep down that Jay holds a place reserved only for him in your heart. So, you ask, can his feelings ever be true?

Despite what you think, you continue spending the rest of the free time you had with the boy and from then on, you've come to form a bond with him that was totally unexpected, and yet, you wouldn't trade it for anything in the universe. If only you just had the guts to tell him how you feel.

"By the way, Jake's holding a party at his house this Saturday. I was sorta hoping you'd come?" He asks as the two of you lean side by side on the tree.

You hum, eyes closed as you rested. "We'll see."

Dusting the nonexistent dust off of the fabric of your black leather jeans, you take a look in the mirror for the first time since you came rushing back to your house.

Prior to this, you had gone home last Friday night to go and visit your parents back in the countryside. You came back at around 7pm and since then, you've been hastily trying to gather an outfit for the same party Jay had invited you to come to, all the while fighting with your own consciousness whether or not it was a good thing to go.

You're not one to go to parties like this one. There's just something about partying with people you know from school that irks you. You'd much rather go to some local bar and get drunk off your head with strangers. But, like most decisions you make when Jay's involved, it gets thrown away towards the deepest corner of your brain, forgotten and neglected.

Stepping inside the huge mansion decorated with tons upon tons of littered empty beer bottles and chip bags, you almost turn around and leave before the sweet fragrance of Jay's cologne hits you, enveloping you in such a sweet scent. How can you leave?

"YN~" He whines, obviously drunk out of his mind as he clings onto your arm. " 've been wai—ting for… you… all night." In his drunken state, Jay leans his full weight onto you, legs probably feeling like jelly as the alcohol floods his system.

"Well, I'm here now, aren't I?" You reply to him, enveloping his hands in yours to guide them towards your shoulder, wanting to provide him some leverage. Afterwards, your hands find their way towards the small of his waist in order to steady his body, afraid that the boy might collapse from the amounts of alcohol he's intook.

He answers you with several cute nods before stuffing his face into the crook of your neck, sighing comfortably. The boy seemed as if he was drunk out of his mind and you were about to ask him if he was okay before he cut you off. "I— I thought you not gonna come~" He drags in a pout. "Thought you… ditched… me."

By the tone of his voice, you can tell that Jay's about to pass out. So, making the decision to help him to bed, you made your way through the mass of sweaty teenagers on the dance floor and walked with him towards the kitchen. There was no use asking Jay where a guest room was located as the boy was now practically half asleep. With half of his body weight hung on your shoulder, the boy's purring onto your neck as you drag his body while you walk.

Catching sight of a familiar blonde haired boy rummaging through the fridge with a few bottles in his hands, you decide to call his name. "Jake," You huff, readjusting your grip on Jay as you feel him slipping between your arms. Jay whines at the sudden jolt, hands tightening around your neck as he places airy kisses onto the side of it, where his head was tucked in.

At the call of his name, Jake turns his attention away to find you with an impeccably drunk Jay clinging onto you like a koala. To Jake, the scene looked funny and amusing because this was the first time he saw Jay in such a vulnerable scene. If it was any other girl he was clinging to, Jake wouldn't have wasted a second to take his friend away and tend to him on his own, feeling worried for the boys well-being. But since he knows Jays romantic bond with you, he's at ease.

"Hey, YN." He greets, posture straightening. "That's quite the situation you've got there." He says, hands gesturing towards you and how Jays arms seem to be wrapped around you without a thought of letting go.

"Yeah," You agree with a huff, feeling out of breath. "I could use some help actually."

Rolling your eyes at the boy, you accept your faith, realizing how alike the two best friends are. "Thanks…" You trail off. "Is there a room I can put Jay in? I think he's gonna pass out."

Without missing a beat, Jake replies. "Nah." He smirks. "I think you've got it under control."

"Yeah, there's a guest room upstairs. Just go up. Last room to the right." He points towards the flight of stairs and you nod, taking the information in before you grip Jays body tighter as you make your way up the stairs and into the room the blondie told you to go to.

Opening the lights inside the dark room, you try not to stumble and fall to the ground, feeling your grip loosening. In fear of dropping the poor boy on the hard ground, you quickly waddle towards the bed and gently plopping Jay down into the soft mattress.

Attempting to untangle his arms from your neck proved to be difficult as the boy just seemed to bound himself to you like steel. No matter how hard you try, Jays resolve doesn't falter, leaving you with no choice but to lay there awkwardly until he falls asleep.

"YN~" You hear his sudden voice call out to you in the same drunk and dragged out manner. "Stay~" He pouts.

All you do is smile at his cuteness, reaching a hand up to sway his bangs away from his face. "Go to sleep, Jay. Get some rest." You say as your hand stays on the crown of his head, scratching his scalp.

At the act of service, Jay groans contently under your touch. "You're so pretty YN." He sighs, drunk eyes watching you take your jacket off in a dreamlike manner.

This time, you laugh, both at his drunken confession and because of the look on his face. Sober Jay would never confess that you were pretty aloud— not in this way at least. When complimenting you, Jay always had more creative ways to get his message through, whether it's by teasing you or by using his corny ass pick-up lines. Still, those simple words made your heart flutter and so, in a whisper, "You're pretty too." you say.

A dopey smile makes its way onto the boys face, undoubtedly feeling satisfied with your answer. "Lay down with me." He commands.

Although you know he's just being playful, you still wanted to tease him back by lecturing him and you were about to do just that before he suddenly pulls you down under him. All the air gets knocked out of your lungs, the action taking you by surprise. With wide eyes, you stare baffled at the man position on top of you, body placed between your legs while his face hovers only mere inches above yours. "J-Jay?" Hearing yourself stutter, you almost curse yourself for being so easily vulnerable.

Despite you calling out to him, Jay doesn't move an inch off of you, only moving nearer and in the heat of want and need, you do too. Quite frankly, now that he's so close, your senses fill with every bit of the boy. His cologne is the only thing you can smell, your bodies are practically pressed against each other, and with his face so close to you, he's the only thing you can see. The only thing missing is the taste of him then you'll be complete, the both of you will. And it seems like that's just what's about to happen because before you knew it, your surroundings seemed to move in slow motion, the only thing making sense is him as his nose touched yours, eyes begging for progress.

Satisfied with his silent plea, you bring your faces closer and let him get a taste of what it's like to be engulfed by you. Both yours and Jays eyes are now closed, lips awaiting to collide and when it does, an endless spray of fireworks seem to erupt. You kiss him light and gentle, afraid he'll regret his actions and pull away. But when he doesn't, your heart melts, feeling joyous at his acceptance.

It's not only you who feels that way, but also Jay, maybe even more so. He's the one that fell in love with you first, thus, meaning he's waited the longest out of the both of you. He tried to keep his emotions at bay, but the beer in his system seemed to have other plans as what Jay thought would be an innocent night where the two of you can get to know each other now turned into a hot makeout session. Jay isn't complaining however, how can he when he thought this was only possible in his dreams?

When the plush feeling of your lips leave his, Jay craves for more and you happily dive back into him. This time, you kiss him harder just like he requested. The whine he lets out just fuels your sex drive even stronger and you're determined to ruin him.

"YN," He calls with his eyes closed, feeling breathless. You reply to him with an airy hum, hands caressing the wide of his chest under his shirt, nails barely grazing over his nipples before wrapping them around his waist so you can continue teasing him with your hips. "S— ah, stop. I— I might…"

The feeling of having you, kissing you, feels so surreal to the boy. It's like a dream and he's just waiting to wake up and feel reality crashing down and disappoint him. He can't help but compare it to the numerous wet dreams he's had of you, except this time, it's all real. You're really making out with him, you're really putting your tongue inside his mouth and he's letting you.

The wet muscle of your tongue explores the space of Jays mouth as his hand possessively roams around your figure. His hands trail between the valley of your breasts to the curve of your hips and roots them there. The grip he has on you only gets tighter when you retract your tongue from his mouth to suck on his lips instead. His mouth hangs ajar, his loud moans spilling out uncontrollably, feeling your hips grinding up to rub on his boner.

"Might, what?" You ask, voice laced with ego while cocking an eyebrow up as you watch him struggle to form words knowing that you're the cause of it. "Baby can't speak now?" You pout, cooing at the quivering boy on top of you.

With the feeling of you tapping his cheek so affectionately, Jay groans in embarrassment. "You're the one getting worked up." He teases back in an attempt to collect the pieces of his pride that's been chipped off, digging his knee into your clothed vagina, wanting to get a reaction out of you. Instead, it's him who ends up moaning, throwing his head back when he feels the mixture of your heat and wetness through the fabric of his pants which, by the way, he was just dying to take off. His teasing seems to be for nothing because you just lay there all pretty whilst agreeing to everything he says as you couldn't deny the fact that his words were all true. He is making you hot and bothered and there's no use in denying it.

Your confidence only makes Jay harder, now grunting at his failed attempt to fluster you. At this point, Jays pants are suffocating and he desperately wants to tear them off. He feels like he's getting blue balled and that has never happened to a hot boy like him. With you, Jay experiences all sorts of firsts; first crush, first love, first blue balls— he could do with the last one, but in the end, he wouldn't trade the experience for anything in the world.

"YN, please." He begs, practically on the verge of tears as his cheeks blossom a deeper shade of red, both because of the heat your body exudes and your words. "Do something— Oomf!"

Ignoring Jays pleas, you catch the boy by surprise by flipping the both of you over. Now, you're on top of him and he's below you, looking up, like how it should be. As Jay lies down with his arms bent at the same level of his head, you take your place and sit on top of his lap, feeling his erection pressing into your heat.

"There we go." You chuckle, looking down at the boy and leaning closer to his face. Thinking that you're going to kiss him, Jay leans up in expectation, only to chase your lips up when you pull away. Jay prepares himself for an endless night of teasing, now practically sober yet it feels like he's getting drunk again. It's just that this time, it's not because of the alcohol, but because of you. "Isn't this better, Jay?"

"It was better when I was on top of you." He says, snarkily.

"Ah," You sigh out, realizing what Jay's doing. "You aren't going to make it easy for yourself, are you, baby?"

"Yeah," He laughs, loving the way he's rilling you up. "Fuck you." Both Jays body and mind tries his hardest not to show a reaction when you had called him by his favorite pet name and he almost succeeds, but alas, Jays dick has different things in mind.

Feeling his dick twitch under you, you can't help but laugh at his pathetic attempt to mask his emotions. "Oh come on, baby. Don't act like a brat now." You coo, steadily grinding down onto his dick. "We both know you're just dying to please me."

With every motion of your hips grinding on Jays boner, he can't help but choke on his own saliva, feeling his mind growing dizzy with every act. "YN… Do something."

Both yours and Jays body crave to be touched, to be against each other and so, you do just what your bodies want. Leaning forward, you bring your lips to his. Initially, you had planned to tease him further with light feathery kisses but the thought soon flew out the window when Jay tried to make it dirtier by inserting his tongue inside your mouth. The innocent, teasing kiss soon turns into a hot and messy make out session as you gladly suck on the muscle of his tongue, soon falling in love with every sound that falls outside his lips.

Your hands make their way to Jays face, holding his face steady as you angle your face to the side in order to deepen the kiss. Jays eyes are closed, too occupied with kissing you that if he were to open them and see the mouth watering view of you on top of him, he'd just cum in his pants and that's the last thing Jay wants to do.

Brushing his bangs back, your fingers then thread onto the strands of his hair, tangling them before pulling his head back so you could have free access to his neck. Your mouth leaves his and he almost whines at the loss of contact before he cuts himself off with a whimper when he feels you lick a thick stripe from the bottom of his neck to the edge of his jaw.

"You're such a whiny little thing, Jay." You comment, breath fanning his neck and effectively sending shivers down his spine. You don't give him a chance to reply before your mouth latches onto the skin of his neck, sucking and biting enough for it to give Jay the harsh feeling of pleasure but not enough to leave marks. The said boy releases a string of curses, mouth falling open as he doesn't even bother to conceal the desperate moans in his chest.

Your tongue licks at the bump of his adams apple before taking it in your mouth. When Jay gulps, his adams apple moves and you chase it, humming delightfully when you feel Jays fingers latching onto your shirt to get a grasp of reality. Effectively covering the skin with your saliva, you then move on to the line of Jay's jaw. You've been eyeing this specific part of his face for the longest time since you've met him. Whenever Jay would randomly pop up and decide to stick with you, you always take the chance to admire his jaw whenever he's looking away. You just know that if he ever catches you then you're in for a life of endless teasing. But now that he's here, willingly angling his head to the side to show off his stunning jaw to you, you can't help but greedily feast on it. There's not a chance in this world you'd pass up the opportunity to do whatever you wanted to him. And you do just that; you use your tongue to trace the sharp line of Jay's jaw, peppering it with kisses from time to time. As you kiss him, Jay's hands rake your scalp, trying to find something to hold onto as you cover him with your scent.

After all that's done, you take a look at the dishevelled man under you. His forehead is shining with a thin sheet of sweat, lips plump and swollen due to the endless amounts of kissing the both of you did, his chest rising and falling deeply with each breath he takes, and lastly, the hint of his abs peeking through his shirt is what sends you over the edge. Your mouth is watering, searching for something to do just to get a bigger reaction out of him and not to mention the fact that your wetness is practically seething through the thin layer of your jeans.

"Wait, shit. I forgot," Suddenly, your hands stop from pulling his boxers out. Feeling edged, Jay lets out a choked sob, followed by a loud whine. He looks at you expectantly, eyes begging for you to just forget whatever it is. "Condom, honey. Do you have one?"

You want to fuck Park Jay so bad, you're willing to beg for it. Luckily, it's Jay who breaks first. With stray lines of tears falling from the corner of his eyes, Jay begs, "Please, YN. Fuck me, please, please."

And that's all he had to say before you quickly took his pants off and threw them to the ground in a hurry, unafraid to show your own eagerness.

A condom, a fucking condom. That's what's banning Jay from getting his noodle wet. He's about to throw a tantrum, it's going to be loud, childish, and annoying. You can just tell from the way his face consorts in disapproval that you're going to be dealing with a bigger brat if you don't give baby Jay what he wants. But at the end of the day, your point is valid, and as Jay rummages through his pockets in search of a condom, he fails to find any. You watch him as he leans to his side, looking through the drawers of the bedside table, practically resembling a starved dog scavenging for food when he cries out, and you can only take that as a sign that there isn't any here.

"None?" You watch him amused, a smile dancing across your face. Leaning close, you take his head and cradle him to your chest, attempting to console the boy.

"There's none!" He screams out, pouting as he digs his nose deeper into the crook of your neck. "YN~ My balls are hurting." He whines, kicking his legs behind you.

Acknowledging his pain, you pat the boys head before leaning away. "I'll go get one, yeah?" You ask.

Like an excited child, Jay hurriedly nods while watching you get up from his lap and standing in front of him at the foot of the bed. "Hurry hurry."

"Oh, don't sound so eager, Jay. You look like you're just begging for me to fuck you." You chuckle, hands resting on your hips.

"But I am, though." He finally admits. Jay bites his lip when he sees you coming closer before pecking him, telling him that you'll be quick and ordering him not to move.

You don't even get ten steps away from the room before you see Yunjin leaning against the wall with her hands crossed in front of her chest. She turns to you, giving you a once over. "Oh, it's you." She says before scoffing. "I didn't think Jay would be able to win this year because of you, but I guess that man's just has his ways, huh?"

Like a million pound truck sending you flying aback, or like a bucket of ice cold water being poured onto you, you're frozen, unable to move as reality comes crashing down onto you. Your heart beat stops and for a moment, you thought it would stay that way forever before she speaks again. "Oh?" She asks with interest, a smirk playing across her lips as she tilts her head to the side in order to provoke you. "Did you really think Jay, the Park Jay, wanted to fuck you because he loved you? Did little miss artsy YN fall in love?"

Why does loving someone always has to come with a catch? You guessed that this is why it hurts so much, because love is sinful and unforgiving. Just when you were ready to let him inside your bubble, thinking that he'd take care and cherish it with you, instead, he popped it with little to no care.

Blood rushes through you and you can feel your knuckles itching for contact. Yunjins face looks so punchable right now and you just want to ever so lightly tap it. How can you be so stupid to forget? To think that all the teasing, all the pick-up lines, and all the moments you shared together were just part of his stupid plan to get you. Now, It all makes sense; Him suddenly growing interested in you and him acting like you're the most pretty thing in this crude world. In the end, it was all for show. And you knew it. From the beginning, you had already suspected that he was only getting close to you because you were apart of his fuck list.

But can you blame yourself? The adoration you felt with him was so addicting it felt real.

Maybe, that's how Jay worked. Maybe, that's the effect he has on people. You knew from the start that Jay was the type of guy to get whatever he wanted and yet, you were stupid enough to forget it all because you fell in love with him.

"You know, I didn't think you were going to be that easy to get, YN. But I guess I was wrong about you." She comments without you asking. "You're just a little two faced nerd looking for attention."

If you weren't coursing with anger before then you are now. Eventually, your knuckles turn a baffling shade of white due to the amount of strength you're putting on it and just when you were about to leave and head to your car, Yunjin breathes and that's all it took for your fist to collide with her jaw.

Despite the booming sound of music through the speakers, the crackling sound of her jaw breaking still finds its way to tear through the tensed air. Yunjin doubles back, palm cupping her jaw as she looks at you with shock and bafflement. You can feel her hatred for you bubbling up, but you don't care. You leave her there despite her enraged calls for you to come back and fight her again, to show the world who you truly are, but you tuck her voice at the back of your mind as you make your way down the stairs and out of the fucking mansion.

You're enraged with hatred and disgust, both for the boy and Yunjin. The more you think of it, the more you realize that you should've thanked her actually. Because of her, you've finally come to your senses. If it weren't for her, there's a possibility you would've given in to his plan and lost all sense of your pride. Making a mental note to apologise to her soon, you speed up your car, trying to erase all the memories you have of the boy in your mind.

Too caught up in your own feelings, you don't realize that you've left Jay there in the guest room by himself, waiting for you to return. And he would've waited even longer if Yunjin hadn't staggered inside and told him that you left.

"Wh— Huh?" Jay asks, still surprised to see the girl inside the same room you two had made out in and promised to make love. "Did something happen? Is she hurt?" Jay rushes to button up his pants as he stands up from the bed, ready to look for you in case you really were in trouble.

"No," Yunjin says, sliding down the wall and planting herself on the carpeted floor. "She already knows, Jay. You don't need to pretend you like her anymore." She chuckles.

Jay looks at her with question marks practically floating above his head, wondering what the hell she was talking about. In fact, Jay doesn't even know who this girl is. When Yunjin sees this, she carries on to remind him. "The game, Jay."

That's when it finally hits him. You think that he's doing all this because of the game. Jay immediately goes into panic, mind creating alarming scenarios of you leaving him forever. He thinks he fucked it all up even though the game was the last thing on his mind at this point. He can't let you think that that's why he's doing this, he can't let you think that he isn't ready to do everything for you. He needs to confess and that's what he plans on doing.

Noticing the panic in Jays eyes, Yunjin finally realizes that this wasn't his objective, that this isn't what the boy wanted. Slowly, it dawns on her that the boy isn't doing this because of the game anymore. It's evident in the way he rushes to find his phone, feet jittering as he hurriedly taps on his phone to dial your number and when you don't answer, tears start spilling from Jays eyes.

"You love her," She asks, eyes concentrated on him as she too, is in shock. "Don't you?"

Looking blankly at your contact number on his phone screen, he answers, "Yeah," He gulps, mouth catching his lips, trying to conceal his whimpers. "I do."

My muse: YN, please answer. Let me explain.

A whole three hours have passed since you left Jay alone in Jakes mansion and the boy has never felt this depressed in his life. He had tried calling you a staggering total of 163 times, left messages asking to talk and yet, none were answered.

My muse: I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I never wanted to hurt you. I never intended to make a fool out of you.

My muse: I need you, YN. Don't leave me, please.

My muse: Are you safe at least? Did you get home safely? I'm not sure if you brought your car so if you need me to bring you home just call me or send a message, anything's fine.

He was on the verge of stopping by every house in the city just to find you when Heeseung told him to go home and rest. The boys had been trying to comfort Jay for hours now, but nothing had seemed to work. Not being able to cope with the sadness mixed with the flashbacks of your rendezvous, Jay accepts his friends suggestion, going back to his own house where he can rest peacefully… or so he thought.

All this while, Jay had been absentmindedly carrying your jacket around like a lost puppy, the one you left in Jakes guest room. It's the one thing he has of you at the moment and he can't help but grip on to it like his life depended on this sole object.

He sighs as he plops down onto his bed, both feeling spent and exhausted. Jay wanted to sleep, he really did, but how could he when the memories of your night together flashes in his mind on repeat. Not to mention how your jacket sits there on his bed, tempting him to sin.

It's sad, he knows. The memories of you becoming too extreme and plus, he's too miserable. How did a night so perfect become this disastrous?

Tonight, Jay was about to confess his undying adoration and maybe, you were going to do the same too. But it was all ruined because of something so trivial. Yet, how can he blame you? If he found out you only looked at him because of a game, he would walk out too, maybe even do something even worse.

But that's not the case for Jay. There's not a single hint of doubt in his body that he loves you. But then again, you didn't know that. If only he had just confessed to you sooner, then maybe, this could've all been prevented. And because of his actions, he lost you. So, for now, as he spends the night wide awake, Jay tortures himself as his mind dive into the memories of both you and him, to the times you spent together doing something as simple as sitting next to each other and to the ones where he almost made love to you.

His mind drowns in all the possibilities; of you under him, on top of him, beside him. It's all making Jays mind fuzzier. The line between imagination and reality blurring as his erotic fantasies intensify. Forgive him. He knows it's not the time to be feeling this way, but what else can he do when you left him in the middle of the night, hard and horny. He's already cried his heart out, maybe now is the time to temporarily mend it.

Yeah, let's just patch it up with tape for now.

Jay is boisterous and never easily flustered when it came to topics like sex. If so, then why is he shaking?

His hands continue to trail around his stomach, thinking that it'd be an image you'll be impressed in. Jay takes pride in his physique because after all, he's trained ruthlessly for over three years just to get this kind of body. So, of course, he's going to want you to put at least some attention to it.

Eyeing the grip he has on your jacket, Jay debates whether or not to do it before finally saying fuck it. In a desperate attempt to keep his emotions at bay, Jay covers his face with the fabric of your jacket. The cloth is covered in your scent and it's intoxicating to him as only a few moments ago, you were the only thing in this world that he could feel, taste, hear, and smell. It's a simple perfume and it doesn't suffocate his nostrils when he inhales it.

As he does, the scent of you fills his systems and he's yet again reminded of the things that happened in Jakes guest room. He wonders what else you would've done if the two of you went further. Thinking like you're doing it to him, Jay begins by trailing his hand up to rest on top of his abs, caressing and tracing the soft skin. His breath hitches as he inhaled, getting another strong whiff of your scent coated on the jacket. "YN," He sighs.

Eventually, the light caresses he's making are just not enough anymore. He wants something stronger, something to distract him from his sorrows. Wanting to do so, Jay grazes his fingers on top of his nipples, stimulating them as he breathes in once more, nostrils filling with your scent before pulling the jacket off his face. His brows are furrowed, feeling the way his mouth waters at the actions he had been planning to do. Jay releases a small whimper when he finally moves tug on his nipples, imagining it's you doing it to him. Jay has never touched his nipples while misturbating before and he'd never once thought of doing it. Not until he got a taste of you.

Wanting to get a better simulation of your wet lips on his body, he takes his fingers in his mouth and coats them with a thick layer of his own saliva before using it to pinch his nipples, tweaking the bud in his own fingers. It's only then does Jay notice the red colored tint that managed to mix with his saliva. It's the remnants of your lipstick that got smudged onto his mouth. This time, the boy releases a loud and drawn out moan, the scenario feeling all too real for his rotting brain.

"YN," He moans. "I l-love you." He chokes out the confession in between pants.

As time goes on, Jays pants start to suffocate him, his boner getting harder the more he plays with himself as the various different scenarios of you on top of him plague his mind.

The only position Jay could imagine the both of you in right now is you on top, taming and punishing him like the brat he is. He applauds himself for coming up with such a logical scenario. It's the only one that makes sense.

Bunching up your jacket into a small ball, Jay presses the fabric onto the bulge of his pants, imagining it as your cunt instead. He shuts his eyes close, head throwing back at the slightest stimulation. Jay flexes his jaw when he grinds his hips upwards into the fabric as he holds it in place. He feels ashamed of his actions. It's something he thinks a sane person won't do, but at the end of the day, is Jay still right in the head?

But it'll have to do for now. While he doesn't have you in his arms, he's going to have to make do with what he has.

He's not. It's clear in the way he hurriedly plies his pants off that he's not able to think clearly anymore. He wants you to ride him, wants to feel himself deep inside your pussy. But he can't because he's a stupid fucking piece of shit that can't get his priorities straight. Maybe if he had just remembered to tell you about how the game is fucked and that he doesn't care about it, then maybe, it would have been you on top of him right now instead of this makeshift pocket pussy.

With his goal in mind, Jay wraps the whole of your jacket around his dick. His hands hold the fabric in place, suffocating his dick with your scent as his hands start to guide it up and down. Endless rays of moans, whimpers, and groans spill out of Jays mouth, the sound of your jacket rubbing on his dick making his mind grow crazier. Like a broken record, Jay chants your name over and over as he continues to jack off.

That's how Jays night went. Despite the pleasure he received from his high, Jay was still depressed and sad. Now, however, it's mixed with a sense of shame and guilt, both at the fact that despite losing you, his mind still managed to come up with dirty scenarios of you together and because he soiled your jacket with his cum.

It's no worries though, he can just get it dry cleaned before giving it back to you. Shame your scent won't be on it anymore, but maybe it's for the best since his mind might make up erotic fantasies of the both of you again.

"Alright, ladies! Come over here." Heeseung calls and tuts for his team to come closer. He continues once all of his members are gathered around him. "Coach is out today. Something about getting his balls cut off." He informs, voice monotone with disinterest as his eyes never once leave the clipboard he's holding.

"As per his majesty's request, we're going to be doing 30 laps around the field today—" His words get cut off with a series of protests and groans coming from his own team. "Don't make me up to 60."

"3 reps of 200 Bench presses, 150 military presses, 150 squats. After that we're going to do deadlifts. Coach said Sunoo and Jungwon need to gain more muscle. So…" Heeseung continues to list on, reading the exercise routine their Coach provided for them while he's away.

Listening from the back, Jay eventually tunes out Heeseungs voice once he moves on to personal exercises. Instead, he diverts his attention towards the bleachers where multiple girls begin occupying the seats as per usual. It's normal for their fan girls to begin taking their seats once classes are over, wanting to catch a glimpse of one of them naked and sweaty. Jay doesn't mind the attention, however. What he does mind is how he still can't seem to find you anywhere. The boy has been searching for you for a whole day now. The two of you had literature class today and he was going to take that chance to talk and explain himself to you. But when he stepped into class, you were nowhere to be seen. You blonde little friend wasn't there either so it wasn't like he could ask her for your whereabouts. He could only pray that the two of you just decided to ditch literature class today as there's a dark corner in his mind that thinks you might have transferred to a different class, or maybe even a different school. But he knows better than to think that, especially when he finally saw the said blonde there, sitting on one of the bleachers. To Jays dismay though, there was no trace of you.

Ignoring Heeseung's call and his teammates' wandering glances, he joggs over to where your friend sat. She lets out a surprised yelp, quickly composing herself when she sees the man standing in front of her so suddenly out of nowhere.

"Hey," Jay casually greets her and then asks, "Liz, right?"

"Yes…" She drags, tilting her head to the side, eyes shifting back and forth between Jay and everywhere else as she begins to feel flustered under his intimidating aura.

"Do you know where YN is?"

An excited squeal escapes Liz's lips, struggling to contain her excitement when the question leaves Jays mouth. Liz is an innocent little thing and an oblivious one at that. No doubt, she's a friend you can come to when you're in need of a shoulder to cry on or a body to seek comfort in, but you can never lean on Liz when it comes to topics like relationships. In the best way possible, Liz is an airhead dreamer. Liz always looks as if she's in a different world, a world filled with her likes. She's tooth achingly nice and almost as pure as milk. There's not a bad bone in the girls body and that's why you love her to bits. Sure, there are times when she breaks character, but mostly, that's because she senses trouble in people. It's like the time when Yunjin dissed you and Liz fired back with her own reply. She's different and you can only curse her mother for letting her watch Harry Potter's Luna Lovegood on repeat as a child as there's no doubt in your mind that that was the reason for Liz's behaviour. But, nevertheless, you love the girl to death.

That's the reason why Liz is still fond of Jay. When her dear friend came to her that night to cry her heart out, she comforted the girl in her arms, hushing her and telling her that everything was alright despite not knowing the horrors she just experienced.

Liz didn't know what happened and if she asked, she knew you wouldn't tell her. So, she sticks to consoling you despite whatever events took place, oblivious to the fact that the man standing in front of her was the cause of it all. Maybe, not telling Liz was a mistake. Maybe, you should've tried using everything in your power to make her understand that this world isn't full of butterflies and roses. Instead, you should teach her the truth, that this world is unforgiving, so many worshipped God's and yet none of them take pity on you. But, despite what you think, you just can't taint her. Let her think that the world is wonderful, that everyone has kindness in their hearts. You'll carry all the burden just so she could stay happy.

"She's in the art room!" Liz eagerly replies, smiling crazily at the boy as the thought of Jay and you together still plague her mind. She's still convinced that you and Jay are meant together. Knowing Liz, she'll do whatever it takes if she thinks it'll make you happy and right now, she thinks that bringing Jay to you will help her achieve her dream. "You should go now. The art room is usually empty around this hour, so YN is the only one there." She ushers.

Smiling appreciably, Jay nods and thanks her gratefully. Jay doesn't question why YNs supposed best friend sells him the information so easily. Aren't best friends supposed to hate the guys who made their friends cry? Oh god, Jay didn't even think about it before, but he could've made you cry. The thought just makes Jays heart ache even harder and the feeling of self disgust seeps back in his system again. Nonetheless, he's grateful that Liz is giving him the chance to make it up and explain himself to you. He's determined to do so and if things go better than planned, he might come back to your good graces.

Before making his way towards the art room, he makes a detour and heads towards his locker. There, hangs the same jacket you wore the night he was about to love you deeper and the same night where he had unintentionally broken your heart.

Securing the jacket in his hands, he catches a whiff of your scent on it and he can't help but bury his face in it, savouring and trying to imprint your scent into his brain. The possibility of losing you is great. If you decide that you don't want Jay anymore, he'll at least have your scent to carry him out through his life. Stray tears leave his eyes at the thought, heart wrenching as it struggles to handle such a sorrowful thought. He's praying to every God above and below for some sort of miracle, for him to be forgiven. He swears with his life that if some supernatural phenomenon does happen and you end up loving him, Jay's not going to mess around anymore. He's going to be yours to own solely. He's going to turn his life around for good. Fuck that wretched game. Fuck winning. He doesn't care about any of it at all. If he's being honest, even if you don't take him back, he's never going to participate in playing that silly game ever again. There's not a chance in this world he's ever going to get over you and there's an even bigger chance that he's never going to have sex with anyone else other than you. Abstinence is fine, he doesn't care. He knows he's not going to get you back with that, but he's trying to make a statement here, people. And plus, he has to start somewhere, right?

Peeking inside through the small gap he made on the door, he finds you sitting in front of a canvas with your back turned to him. Just like what Liz said, there was no other occupant in the room, but you.

With your back turned to him, he's able to see what you're painting on your canvas. It's a picture of what seems to be a field of green. A huge tree is painted on the side of the canvas while two figures of a couple seem to be sitting down on a blanket. He stares at your canvas in awe, amazed at how something so breathtaking can come out using only someone's mere hands. His eyes are entranced, unable to look away as you stroke your brush on the canvas with so much confidence, unnerved of the possibility of making any sort of mistake. But, even if you were to ever make a wrong stroke, he's already sure that with the way your hands move so freely on the canvas, you can make even the ugliest of things attractive.

"If you're going to keep staring at me like that then just come in. You aren't really doing a subtle job at stalking me." Your voice catches Jay off guard. It makes him stumble on his own feet, falling down on his butt on the ground, slamming the door back on the wall with him along the way. Jay's cheeks flare up as once again, he has embarrassed himself in front of you.

"S-Sorry." He stutters out, feeling flustered now that he's in your presence. Everything he's planned to tell you dissipates and it feels like he's choking. Your tone is vicious and it's clear to Jay that you're angry at him. He has to compose himself fast so he can't anger you any more by wasting your time. Taking a deep breath, Jay breathes in and out, trying to tame his heart. It proves to be harder than expected however when he locks eyes with you, brows furrowed and lips pressed in a thin line.

"Why're you here?" You ask in a tone so cold and monotone that Jay almost whimpers. It's been a while since you've used such a way of speaking with him. The last instance he could remember was when you had met for the first time. But even back then, your tone was welcoming to Jay in a sense that he could tease you.

This time, however, it's serious and you're angry. There's no room to joke, no room to tease and Jay feels like he's going to suffocate. He's never been this nervous to be around you. It's always him being comfortable, teasing, and messing around while you react to his jokes. This is too harsh for the poor boys heart and he just wants to be forgiven already.

"I— I came here… to… to—" He's mustering up the courage to speak, but it's hard when your stare is so intimidating.

You cut him off before he could stutter even more. "To, what? Don't waste my time, Jay." You say, harshly. "I don't want to see you right now so get to the point."

"Y-Your jacket!" He says, feeling a thin streak of sweat running down his temple as he utters out the first thing that comes to mind. "You left your jacket at Jakes house. Here." The boy murmurs before shuffling closer to you to pull out the said jacket you had left.

Looking at Jay blankly as if feeling dumbfounded, you then stare back and forth between him and his outstretched arm before taking the jacket from him slowly. At first, his grip on the jacket makes it seem like he doesn't want to hand it over to you. It's when you quirk an eyebrow up to question him does his grip relent, letting you take the jacket. "Thanks…"

You should be angrier, colder, you say to yourself. That was the initial plan; to live on the rest of your life ignoring Jay so you could forget about the love you have for him. But why is it that when the time came to execute your plan, you backed out? After what he did, your feelings should've been gone and yet, why do you feel such an immense sense of longing whenever you look at him and he's not by your side. It's impossible to ignore him, and it's even harder to do so when your heart yearns for his presence. It's suffocating having to be without him. You feel as if you were ripped in half, broken and can only be fixed by one person.

You wanted to be logical, you wanted to hear him out because maybe, just maybe, he actually cared for you. If he did and you didn't hear him out now, then you would've lived the rest of your life filled with sorrow and dread. You wait for him, watching him as he fumbles with the buttons of his practice attire.

"Do you need anything else?" You know your tone is harsh, but you can't help it. You want to show him that you're mad, that you want an explanation, but you can't beg. No, you just can't. So, instead, you give him the decision to flip the coin whether or not he's going to explain himself. You just want one thing to come out of his mouth besides the word sorry. Just one thing. You need to know if he's true, if what the both of you had was real, because if you don't, you're going to go crazy. Love makes you crazy and it's ruthless, but for Jay, you won't hesitate to dive back in and eperience every struggle.

"I… I wanted to say sorry. It was never my intention to hurt you, YN." He says as a few moments pass with the both of you just staring at each other, savoring your possible last moments together if either of you makes the decision to reject the other. Jay needed to get his act together and tell you how he feels. He wants you and he's willing to fight for it. "I just wanna say that… that I'm in love with you. I really do. And before you say anything, can you please let me explain myself?" He begs, eyes filled with desperation.

Silently, you nod, letting him let out the words he wants to say as you try to process his words. He loves you. The one phrase you wanted to hear from him, it's there, he just said it to you. All this time worrying about whether or not he actually loved you was all just for nothing. Deep inside, your heart feels alive and joyful. It may sound stupid, but with those simple words, you already feel like it's already worth forgiving him.

Watching Jay exhale almost made you want to giggle. But of course, wanting to intimidate him, you refrain from doing so.

"I love you, okay? A-And it's okay if you don't like me back. I mean, it— it isn't okay, but I would respect it." He stutters, cursing his awkward nature for coming out while he's in such a situation. "I just… My feelings for you, they were all real. Please believe me because I really do love you. My heart, I-It's never done this before, but whenever I think of you, it just starts hurting and it only stops when I'm finally next to you. I guess, in a way, you kinda… uhm, complete me." Feeling shy, he mutters the last part, debating whether or not it was too cheesy to say or not, but he ended up saying it either way out of nervousness.

When he looks back at you to see your reaction, you only nod. Taking that as a sign that you're permitting him to continue, he does. "A-And about the game. The game… I'll be honest with you, I completely forgot about it. I promise, I never intended to take pictures of you that night. Honestly, just— just fuck the game, in general! Will you be my girlfriend, instead?" Jays mouth acts before he could stop himself from unintentionally spilling the words out.

Hear me out, it's not like Jay doesn't want you to be his girlfriend, he just doesn't think now is a good time to ask. Since you haven't said anything, you're still technically mad at him. He just couldn't help but feel carried away as he poured his heart out and of course, his heart also wanted to ask the very question he thought should come in last.

Jay slaps his mouth shut as he's struck with bafflement. "I— I'm so sorry, YN! Ididn'tmeantoaskyouthatallofasudden. Iknowarelationshipisthelastthingyouwantfrommeanditotallyunderstanditifyourejectme!" He stammers all in one breath in an attempt to redeem himself.

Thinking he had completely fucked up his chances, Jay takes buries his face in his hands, too ashamed to look at you. Perhaps, if he looked up, he would've seen the amused smile on your face as you watch the boy cringe at himself. He continues to drown himself in embarrassment, chanting an endless degree of apologies as you sit there. Eventually, you start to giggle as you watch him. The euphoric noise pulls Jay out of his self-humiliation, now looking at you with unbelieving eyes as he watches you continue to burst into a fit of giggles. Throwing your head back as you clutch your stomach while wiping the non existent tears in your eyes, eventually making Jay realise that you aren't mad at him anymore.

Still though, he looks at you warily, wondering if this is a trap and that you're actually about to yell at him. He waits for a scream to tell him to leave, but nothing comes. "YN?" He asks you when you've calmed down.

"Oh, Jay." You manage to say in between deep breaths as you try to compose yourself. "You're just the cutest thing ever."

"I.. Wh—" He stumbles on his words, unsure of what to say nor what's happening. "Huh?"

He's just too cute! Ugh, you just want to squish his cheeks together. It's as if all the anger in your body has eroded with those simple words of affirmation. Honestly, it might seem like you're letting him get off the hook so easily, but what can you do? The boy has you wrapped around his fingers.

"I…" He trails off, unable to form words as he stands with your arms wrapped around the span of his thighs while your head rested on top of his toned stomach. "You really don't hate me?"

Smiling, you open your arms for Jay, spreading your legs in the process so he can step closer to you. When he does, you take him in your arms in a huge hug.

Jays body grows stiff, the situation still feeling odd to him. It was that easy? He was so ready to drop down his knees in front of you and start begging for you to take him back, to call himself worthless, to tell you that he's really really changed and that if you didn't believe him, he'll try his hardest to prove himself worthy of your affection.

Chuckling against his stomach, you nod, head rubbing on his skin before you tighten your arms around him as if to prove that you were serious. You can feel the boys sincerity through his words; how honest and true his feelings are. Although your wall has already been slowly chipping down, now, you let it fall completely. Your guard is no more and you've willingly pulled it down for only Jay to enter.

This time, you're dedicated not to make anymore accusations. You believed in Yunjin too quickly, and that was your fault. You put yours and Jays relationship at risk, and that was also your fault. Even though you've made so many mistakes, Jay is still at your front door, knocking and asking if he could enter. Despite hurting him, he's still begging for you to take him back. In a way, you feel bad for Jay. There's a part of you that thinks that because you've hurt him so much, you shouldn't have the privilege of being with him anymore. But Jay only wants you; your love, your touch, and your kisses. He doesn't want anyone else and he's willing to take the pain that comes with loving you because after all, what's love without a little pain? Jay's a masochist after all.

"I hope you know I'm not going to continue playing your little game, Jay." You say as you pull away to get a good look at him.

"I wasn't going to ask you to play the game in the first place." He replies, confidence slowly building up as the hope for a romantic relationship with you bubbles. "But if you want, you can just play with me instead."

Taking a bold move, Jay leans his face downwards, closer to yours. Jay eyes the way you bite your lips while your own locks onto the attractive cut in the middle of his bottom lip. You want to lick it, to kiss it again, but you hold yourself back, wanting to tease the boy more.

At his offer, fire spreads through your eyes like wildfire and it doesn't help the fact that he's so close to you as you try to contain yourself from jumping him. Jay looks so hot when he's confident, when he's cocky. You remember a time where you used to hate this look on him and his other peers, but look at you now. With Jays classic smirk on his lips, it sets your mind into a frenzy and you're on the verge of losing all your self control. It's only a matter of time until you break, but you hope to god Jay crumbles first, for the sake of your pride.

You can see the determination in Jays eyes and it only makes you swell with pride how eager the boy is to have you. With that being said, you wonder and ask him with a teasing tone. "Are you normally this shameless Jay?"

"Shameless?" He asks in such an innocent manner you almost forget how close he is to you without your permission. "I'm only like this towards you." He says, smiling cheekily.

"Ah," You let out, nodding your head before telling it to the side. Smirking, "You don't let girls go down on you normally, hm?"

"No," He answers, eyes trained to you and voice sounding far off and breathless as if in a trance. "Only you."

That's it. That was the last straw and now, your resolve is completely broken. The initial plan to keep things PG is thrown out the window. Now, you just want to have him, kiss him, lick him, break him.

Just like how he's so in control whenever he's in the field, you're going to play with him whichever way you want.

"Aw," You coo, hands brushing his hair back before using your nails to scratch behind his ear, like how you would when tending to a cat. "Is my kitty that needy?"

With the way Jays eyes look, you can tell he wants to close the gap and bring himself closer to you, however, before he could, your hand squishes both his cheeks as you hold him in place. Dejected, Jay whines and his mouth forms into a pout. His eyes plead for you to let him near and you're certainly not blind to the way his eyes yearn pleadingly while looking at the smirk coating your lips, silently begging for you to let him kiss you. Jay's used to getting what he wants, and he wants you. You're willing to give him what he wants of course, but not without teasing him first.

Having been caught so easily, he blushes at your question, wanting to look away in embarrassment, but your grip on his cheeks are hindering him from doing so. Then, he whines, both from the restriction and the nickname you gave him. "Answer me first, please." He meekly says, voice sounding small.

"Answer what, kitty?"

Jay blushes even harder, whining as he knows damn well you're aware of what question he's talking about. "Be my…" He starts, but his voice falters afterwards when he catches you staring at him with a teasing smirk on your face.

Biting your lips to conceal your laughter, you continue to mock him, loving the flustered look on someone so boisterous like Jay. "Be your, what?"

"Fuck," He mutters when you decide to take your teasing one step farther by standing up and wrapping your arms around the small of Jays waist, pulling his body close to you to the point where your noises touch. "Will you… be… my girlfriend?"

"There you go, baby." You say in a childish tone, applauding Jay for finally being able to mutter the question. Hearing another pet name come out of you makes Jay even shier than he was before, head now burying into your neck as he tries to conceal his feverous blush. "But, yes, Jay. I'll gladly be your girlfriend."

Fireworks erupt in Jays stomach, now feeling even bubblier as you accept him as your boyfriend. Unable to contain his happiness, Jay buries his head deeper into your neck while his buff arms wrap around your thighs so he can lift you up and spin you around. Both yours and Jays laughter fill the vacant room, uncaring whether or not someone in the halls might hear. They'll think the two of you are crazy, but you don't care. All you care about is the happiness of finally being complete and whole.

"Can I kiss you now?" Jay asks all too quickly as he carefully sets you down.

Laughing at your boyfriends eagerness, you nod, letting Jay capture your lips in his.

The kiss is innocent and light, but most importantly, it's perfect. It's not your first time kissing Jay, yet, there's something different about this time. Maybe, it's because now, neither of you are intoxicated. Maybe, because now, the two of you have shown your love for each other. Neither Jay nor can you suppress your joyous smiles as the both of you continue to kiss each other despite your teeth hitting from time to time.

You hold Jays head still so you could properly kiss him and this time, you don't hesitate to kiss him harder in order to show how much passion and care you have for the boy. Of course, Jay immediately responds. It's like his second nature now. If you kiss him, his body automatically moves to answer even before his brain can process what's happening.

Jay tilts his head to the side, deepening your kiss and letting out a muffled moan when you slide your tongue past his mouth. For the second time, he lets you explore every crevice of his mouth, tangling his tongue with yours from time to time. You hum into the kiss when you feel Jays hands slide down to cup your ass. If it were any other day, you would've slapped Jays hand away while you scolded him, telling him how bold he's getting without your permission. But for now, you let him enjoy himself, let him explore and caress every part of your body. It's like he's trying to familiarise himself with his new property and like any other new owner, he wants to see everything bare and naked.

When you bite down hard on his lip, Jay whimpers, hand clutching your shirt as he looks at you with a gaze that tells you he wants something. Releasing the skin with one final nibble, he talks, "Let me fuck you."

Jay should've seen it coming. He knows you're a tease, and that you'd never let him take the easy way in life. When you chuckle at his request, he knows he's in for the time of his life. "No."

"No?" He asks, unsure whether you really won't let him do anything despite showing the same amount of eagerness.

You hum, nodding. "No."

"Uhm, then…" He asks, shifting his weight between his legs awkwardly.

"I have something else planned for you." You tell him, a mischievous grin set on your face as your hand traces his shoulder in an attempt to help soothe his abnormally quick heartbeat "Be my muse again."

Dumbfounded, Jay looks at you with furrowed brows wondering why you so suddenly asked to paint him out of nowhere. But despite that, Jay agrees because at the end of the day, he'll do whatever you ask of him.

Seeing him nod, you bite your lips before giving his lips a quick peck. You guide him to sit on a chair a few inches in front of your easel. Placing yourself in between his legs, you ruffle Jays hair in a way that makes him look sweet and edible. You don't let a single hair go untouched as you hands rake his scalp and Jay only sighs in delight as he lets you do whatever you want to him and his body.

Finally deciding that you're done, you take a step back to admire the image of Jay that you've created; hair tousled like the two of you had been making out for hours, lips slightly swollen, and eyes looking at you wide and expecting.

You let out a hum in approval as Jay watches you saunter back to stand in front of your canvas. "Take your shirt off." You instruct while your eyes stay occupied with picking the colors you want to use for your portrait.

When you're finally able to draw out your palette, you look at Jay. You raise an eyebrow at him, ignoring the shocked look on his face as his shirt still clings onto his body. Realising that he hadn't misheard you, he quickly shuffles to take his shirt off, letting it fall gently onto the floor close to where he sat. He looks at you expectantly, wondering if there's anything else you'd like for him to do.

You let out a hum as you ponder, chin resting on your palms while you tap your feet on the hard ground. "Take your pants off too."

Now, Jay has an idea of what you want to do and he's just as excited as you are. So, after quickly kicking his pants off, he stays on alert for your next instructions.

"Oh, Jay." You dreamily sigh, looking at your boyfriend as if he was your prey. "You look so good right now. I can just eat you out."

The fog in Jays mind is moving quicker than usual as now, It's actually you talking to him and not just his imagination creating scenarios for him. The way you talk to him is making him go crazy and he can feel his dick in his pants rapidly hardening despite you not touching him.

"Do it." He tells you while his body looks for your touch.

When he looks at you with strong eyes, you only laugh at him. "Be good, baby. Don't wanna ruin my portrait, don't you?"

"Fuck the portrait. I wanna fuck you." He curses, voice strong and demanding, both traits you aren't seeking as of the moment.

You click your tongue at how disobedient Jay is, rolling your eyes as you warn him that if does something he isn't told to, he's going to get punished.

It's clear that Jay wants to challenge you when he shakes in his seat out of unruliness. It seems as if Jay doesn't believe your warnings, doesn't believe that you'll really punish him if he misbehaves. So, just to prove to him that your words are true and not empty threats, you walk up to Jay and yank his boxers down. Now, Jays dick is exposed to your stare and the cold air, both making Jays length harder. Initially, you had planned to take things easy and paint Jay while he's naked. But now that he's shown you his lack of respect, you're going to kick things up a notch by torturing him. It's a shame you didn't bring a vibrator with you, you could've used it on your brat, but no matter, you have other things planned that'll surely help you tame him.

Taking his dick in your hands, you let a thick glob of your saliva drop down onto his tip, spreading your lubricant around his dick while you jack him off. Jay immediately reacts by bucking his hips into your hand, choking out a surprised moan as he didn't expect for you to touch him so boldly. Despite you clicking your tongue at his actions, you love to see Jay getting desperate. Although your mouth drools at the sight of him fucking your hand while you jack him off, you hold his hips down, planting them on top of the seat as you continue to work on hardening his dick.

"Y-YN." He stutters, voice calling out to you as he closes his eyes and throws his head back in pleasure. "Keep… going."

Loving the reaction Jay's giving you, you gladly fasten the pace of your hand, seeking more of the noises he lets out. "That's it, kitty. Be a good boy and moan for me."

Now, Jay's panting, trying to catch his breath. Opening his eyes, he peeks a glance at you from between his spread legs, only to curse himself off for being so stupid as when Jay thought he could last atleast a few minutes before he blows, it's now cut to mere seconds, the image of you eyeing his dick with hunger making him too horny. "Stop! YN, please. Don't wanna… so soon…"

Hearing his cries, you slow your pace down a bit, grin only widening when you realise how quickly he's getting worked up. You let him recollect himself for a second before resuming back to work. This time, you press the palm of your hand on the tip of his dick. His head is leaking so much precum, it looks like it could amount to the same as your saliva. You collect him in your palm before going back down to the base of his dick. Jay lets out a strangled sob, the pleasure you're giving him feeling too good and despite his attempts to quiet himself down, he's just unable to when you're moving like you know every tick he has. The veins on Jays dick start to come out and it catches your attention so, you take your index finger and trace every vein on his dick with wonder.

It's not that long before Jay's own high starts building up, and this time he makes it a point to tell you without the intention of stopping. Jay places himself on the edge of his seat, orgasming approaching the faster you jack him off. You focus on his head, taking the head in your fist and circling your wrist. Jays orgasm is right around the corner and before he could reach it, you pull away, leaving him to choke on air while his orgasm dissipates.

You look at Jay with humorous eyes, tongue coming out to lick your lips at the image of him panting heavily with his back leaned onto the chair. When he finally opens his eyes, they're completely drunk. "You're so mean." He pouts, still hung over his ruined orgasm.

Jay looks at you speechless yet again as you never seem to fail to surprise him. He whines, trying to persuade you to come do it to him instead and give up on the painting, but all you do is shut him up, telling him that if he doesn't do as he's told, he's never going to cum.

"I told you to be good." You remind him. "Now, keep touching yourself while I paint you." You command, tossing his dick on his stomach before leaving him to go back and stand in front of your easel.

Noticing the mess on your hand, you smirk before quickly locking eyes with Jay, taking your fingers in your mouth to suck and clean them off as you lick the palms of your fingers. Through that, you got a small whiff of his taste, mouth now watering as you feel your patience running low.

Finally acknowledging your threat, Jay nods his head disappointedly. The boy takes his dick in his hand, finally getting to feel how hard he's gotten and it's painful having to endure more of it. He'll never admit it, but he loves this side of you, loves it when you over power him and boss him around. He'll try to hide his liking for it by misbehaving or by talking back as he knows he'll never hear the end of it if you find out how much he goes crazy for a couple of insulting words from you.

"Go on, big boy. Show me how pretty you are."

And with that, Jay immediately gets to work. Starting off by using the remnants of your spit on his dick, he starts gliding his hand up and down in a slow manner, trying to build up the stimulation so he doesn't get overwhelmed too quickly and cum. From his half opened eyes, he sees a glimpse of you dipping your wide brush onto the circular palette. He's tempted to ask you for a peek as Jay always gets excited whenever you paint him. He feels special whenever he gets to be your muse, often times wanting to do a good job both because it's a portrait of him you're doing and also because he plainly just wants to do his best for you so you could praise him.

It may not seem like it but Jay's a sucker for your praises. It's just masked by how often you scold him for teasing you, but what can the boy do? At this point, teasing is practically his primary love language. He loves the way you react to him when he teases you, how good you are at putting him back in his place. He lives for that shit; annoying you and then paying for it later on. It's an event he won't ever get tired of no matter how often or how long you two do it.

"Aw, baby." You coo, voice pulling Jay out of his head.

"Y— ngh, yeah?" He seethes out, dick twitching uncontrollably because of your stare.

"Your head looks so angry, kitty." You comment, chin nudging towards his direction.

Indeed, his head is angry and not only that, but his body feels like it's on fire. Your words provide him not a single drop of help with keeping his orgasm at bay, mind only going crazier as he listens to all the dirty words you throw at him. "That's a good boy. You look so hot right now, Jay. Painting you always feels so nice."

With the quickening pace of his hand, Jay can feel how close he is to cumming. His only regret is telling you because the moment he announces that he's about to cum, you tell him to stop.

Despite Jays willingness, his body only abides to your words and thus, he has no choice but to halt his movements. Jay cries out, small tears trickling down the corner of his eyes at having been denied his orgasm twice. With pleading eyes, Jay sends a look of longing towards you, however, it gets ignored as you busy yourself with finishing a rough outline of Jays body.

He calls out to you like a lost baby, pout only growing as he tries to make himself look cuter, hoping that you'd take pity on him. "Yes, baby?" You ask, head popping up at the side of the canvas to look at Jay.

"I need you, YN.” He answers, hand still wrapped around his dick as he bites down on his lip. The sight of him makes you wet and it's hard to resist him when he looks this amazing. Because of the sweat, Jays abs are now glistening, the light shining through the window highlighting each pack of his muscle. When Jay pumps his dick, his stomach can't help but clench involuntarily at the stimulation, making it so that his abs flexed at the motion in an arousing manner.

You can't take it anymore, even just the thought of him makes your pussy wetter. All you want to do is plant your hands around Jay and that’s exactly what you're planning to do— after you finish your portrait. Jay doesn’t need to wait longer though. You only need to do a few more messy outlines before finishing. To be honest, when you asked him to sit down and be your muse again, you didn't expect to get technical with all the details, knowing deep down how little self-control you have when it comes to handling Jay. Like him, you just melt with every slightest touch he gives. You’re just better at concealing it.

Finishing off the portrait with highlights on his biceps, you nearly throw both your palette and paintbrush away in a rush to get to Jay. You don't even try to conceal the eagerness in you as you capture Jays lips in yours, turning it into a full on makeout session not even seconds after. A hand comes up to tangle into the strands of his hair, pulling and gripping onto his locks, making Jay grunt as your other hand grazes over curve of his collarbone, nails scratching his skin from time to time, eliciting a moan from the boy under you.

Alas, you’re finally on him and it’s everything Jay has ever wanted. Gone is the poor simulation of you in his mind because it just doesn't compare to the real thing. You haven’t even done much to him and yet he’s already moaning into your mouth like your fucking him. Jay doesn’t care if he looks desperate anymore. He’s waited long enough and now that you’re here, he’s not going to hold anything back.

Jay whines when you leave his mouth, wondering why you’d put him through this misery. He ends up eating his words soon after though when he feels your lips kissing the side of his neck. The kisses you plant are ticklish, making Jay recoil and giggle. Finding him cute, you smile at your boyfriend with adoration, eyes twinkling with love as he continues to laugh when you chase him and dive back into his neck.

It’s cute for a moment while you plant a mix of short and sweet kisses all over Jays neck. Occasionally, Jay giggles, unable to contain his laughter as he grips on to your hips, making sure that you’re still close to him no matter what. However, the said innocent kisses soon turn into erotic ones when you sit yourself on his lap and right next to his erect penis. You take the same arm that used to be knotted in Jays hair, now placing them on top of his dick. Your lips go back to clash with his, spit mixing with each other as you let him suck on the bottom of your lip. Your hand starts pumping Jays dick at a languid pace, body leaning closer to his so that you’re chest to chest with him. Your free hand rests on top of Jays heart, feeling the rhythm of his heart beneath his skin.

Jay leans his head back, letting you kiss all over his throat. "Mark me."

"What’s the magic word, baby?" You ask, licking a long line on Jays neck.

Moaning, he answers, "Please. Please, YN. Mark me. Wan’ show everyone ’m yours."

"There we go." You tell him, patting his head. "That's a good, kitty."

As per his request, you start to suck on Jays neck harder with the intent of creating bruises on his skin. Jay thanks you with a loud moan, hand wrapping around your body as he thrusts up into your hand. You plant hickeys all over Jays skin, not forgetting to lick it better afterwards to soothe his abused flesh.

Time goes on with you and Jay just making out with each other, limbs tangling in a desperate attempt to be closer. It’s not enough anymore as both of your bodies start to crave each other harder— not to mention the fact that Jay’s leaking so much into your hand, you’re afraid his dick is going to have a serious issue if he doesn't come sooner. And so, using that as an excuse, you finally stand up to pull your underwear down and hiking the pencil skirt you wore upwards, letting it sit on your waist.

The boy stares at you with wide eyes filled with wonder, mouth hanging open as he eyes you pussy in front of him. Noticing his intense stare, you chuckle, finding him adorable even in this state. ‘’You want it, honey?’’

‘’God, yes. Give it to me.’’ Is that even a question? Of course he wants to have a taste of you. It’s all he’s ever been thinking about so, of course he’s going to say yes.

Wrapping his hands around your thighs, Jay pulls you to him abruptly, making you yelp. Spreading your legs apart, Jay slides his nose in between your folds and inhales your scent of arousal. Your hands ravel themselves into Jays hair where you feel his nose bump into your clit. You’re so horny, the slightest touch already has your knees weak.

Jay then gets to work when you push his head towards your cunt, taking that as his signal. His tongue dives into your wetness, immediately groaning against your vagina when he finally gets to taste you. The vibrations made by his mouth sends shocks of pleasure throughout your body, feeling it tingle harsher when Jay starts to lap onto your hole.

"Jay, baby," You moan, rolling your hips harder into his face.

Unable to talk, Jay replies to you with a hum, pressing his tongue harder and making you buck against his face. Jays pace picks up when he hears the way you’re moaning for him. He wants to hear more, wants to hear how good he is at eating you out. He’s desperate for more so, he shifts his attention from your hole to your clit instead, wanting to see your reaction. When Jay opens his eyes, he had to desperately pray to all the deities in this world just so he could compose himself and not cum at the sight in front of you. There you are, with your back arched, one hand pressed on to the back of his head to keep him place while the other tangles with your own hair. Your face is contorted in pleasure, brows furrowed, eyes closed, and lips caught in between your teeth, Your mouth opens from time to time to give Jay more affirmation, whether it’s in the form of moans, grunts, whines, or words, he doesn’t care, he’ll take what he can get.

"Baby— fuck," You hiss, thighs shaking as you feel your orgasm near. "I’m so close, baby. Keep going."

Only replying with a firm nod and a low hum, Jay fastens his movement onto your clit, circling his muscle around the bud. The action makes you go crazy, hands now gripping on to Jays hair with force as you concentrate on achieving your orgasm. It’s so near that you start shaking, moans growing louder when all of a sudden, everything is ripped away from you.

Jay backs away from you with a smirk, feeling proud of what he did as he grins at you in a cocky manner despite his mouth and chin being covered by a mixture of his saliva and your wetness.

You should’ve known that was going to happen. It’s Jays nature to tease you. Plus, you knew he’d get back at you for edging him so many times in the past. The thought just flew out of your head, too focused on the thought of cumming. Frustrated, you tug on Jay's hair, trying to get back at him for what he did. Even though you didn’t get the chance to cum, your thighs are still quivering like they did.

‘’Hey hey, you can’t get mad at me.’’ He says, backing off while he stays seated on the chair when he sees the way you eye him. ‘’If I don’t cum, you shouldn't either. We should cum together, riiight?’’ He says, dragging out the last word in a teasing voice.

‘’True,’’ You agreed before abruptly pulling him by his hand towards the huge table in the corner of the room. You take your place on top of the table, leaving him there to stand in between your legs. With your thighs spread open, Jay gets a clear view of your leaking vagina as well as your throbbing clit. Jays mouth waters at the sight, feeling enticed to just lean forward and eat you out again. But before he gets to, your legs wrap themselves around him, pulling him forward. His dick presses perfectly into your vagina and it even gets coated with some of your wetness. The two of you moan in unison, both desperate for their release.

As the both of you can’t wait any longer, you throw him the silver packet that’s been hiding inside your chest pocket, telling him to put it on. Jay does so without complaint, grateful that he’s finally getting some pussy after such a long time.

He almost can’t believe this is actually happening. He thinks that at any moment now, he’s going to wake up from this wet dream alone and without you. But now is not the time to dwell on such thoughts when you’re literally right in front of him, with your legs spread, eyes keenly watching as he slides the condom on his dick with shaking hands.

Jay lines himself with your cunt, breath quickening as he readies himself for what's to come. It's been awhile since he's done this with anyone, and the nerves are getting to him. Now that the real thing is hereward, all the skills he learned in the past seem to flow out of his head.

What if he doesn't perform well, would you be disappointed?

What is he even talking about? Of course you're going to be disappointed. All that talk about wanting to fuck you yet, he can't can't use his dick right. What kind of woman wants their man to be so incapable? Obviously, not you. Jay can tell from the way you carry yourself that you wouldn't lower your standards for anything other than perfect and yet, here Jay is, your boyfriend.

Still, his baseless doubts doesn't stop plaguing his mind. His breath is shaking, palms starting to sweat as he eyes your entrance. Jay wants to do good, show you that he's worth the risk you took. Jay's not a fool. He knows his reputation around school. That he's a manwhore that gets around by flirting with multiple girls at once. Not only that, but he knows how much you despise the varsity team. Yet, here you are, ready to let him fuck you. It means more to him than you think. You letting him be this close to you means that you trust him enough to show your most vulnerable parts and that just makes Jay even more nervous.

From where you laid, you watch with soft eyes as Jays hands start to shake. Your own hands shooing his off so you can put his dick inside you yourself. "You don't have to be so nervous, baby. Here, let me do it."

Placing the head of his dick inside your vagina, the both of you groan simultaneously. "Jay— fuck. You're so big, kitty."

Hearing you moan his name and compliment him at the same time makes Jays thighs tremble, the feeling of being inside is you is too overwhelming and he feels like his knees are about to fold. Noticing this, you take Jays hands in yours, letting them rest on the bottom of your stomach to provide him with some support.

He knows you're just trying to help him, but it really isn't working. Placing his hands there is only driving him nuts as once he was able to fully push his whole dick inside you, he got to feel the outline of his length inside when he pressed down on your abdomen.

"I… I can—" Jay's trying his best to talk, he really is, but whenever he tries, it just gets cut off with a sound of a sound of appreciation.

"Yeah, baby?" You chuckle when he fails to complete his sentence. "You feel yourself inside?"

Jay responds with a semi loud sob as he nods his head to your question.

"Take it easy, honey." You tell him, patting his cheek to console the worried boy. "I'm not going anywhere."

You're not going anywhere.

That's when Jay calms down. Hearing you say those words put his thoughts at ease. No matter what happens, you'll be there beside him so Jay shouldn't worry so much about messing up. He has your whole lives to love you, your whole lives to treat you like his queen. It makes Jay realise that he shouldn't be so caught up on trying to be perfect. I mean, he wants to perform well and he knows he'll achieve that when he shakes these invasive thoughts away. Now knowing what to do, Jay shakes to get a grip of himself and before you know it, he's already thrusting his hips into your cunt.

You release a dragged moan, hands pulling Jays head down so the two of you can kiss each other. Angling your head to the side, you put your tongue inside Jay and he gladly sucks on your muscle. Amidst the messy kiss you and Jay share, drool starts to seep past between your lips and pooling down your chin.

The urge to hold on to something arises and he can only think of your boobs to grip onto. Muttering the request to you, Jay's quick to act as the moment you tell him that he can, he's already ripping your blouse open and tearing your bra down. Jay leaves the sanctuary of your lips, wanting to give your boobs the attention they deserve. Your nipples lay there erect, inviting Jay on to lay his tongue flat on your nub. He licks the skin greedily before sucking on your skin harsher while he busies himself with groping your other breast.

Both his movements inside you and on your tits are driving your mind crazy and you can't help but scratch your nails onto his broad back, trying to grasp back a sense of reality. His movements are so good and so precise, you can feel yourself slipping between realities. Jay does a good job at finding the spot your crazy for the most as once you start to thrash around under his hold, he knew he was hitting your g-spot, and your boyfriend doesn’t hesitate to abuse it. It only makes you crazier, moans spilling out uncontrollably as it mixes with his own.

The noises Jay releases are euphoric and you don't hold back from commenting on it. "You sound so pretty, Jay. Keep moaning and I'm gonna cum."

Those words are what fuels Jay to thrust into you with more vigor. It's different from the casual pace he had used on you beforehand. Now, his pace is harder and rougher with the goal of making you cum in his mind. He wants to see you fall apart under him, wants to see the face and the noises you make when he makes you cream on his cock. Jay spreads your thighs apart, wanting to reach a deeper part of you.

Feeling his own high coming, Jay announces, "Wanna cum with you."

Despite being so close, you nod your head, willing yourself not to cum. Your breath gets caught up in your throat when Jay starts hitting that specific spot inside you faster, making you release a loud moan. "Shit! Right there, honey. You're doing so fucking good. Baby, cum for me."

With the way your pussy's squeezing the entirety of Jays cock, milking him for his release, Jay can't help but go feral, especially when you insert such dirty words through his ear. The sweat on Jays body paints a perfect picture of him, his muscles flexing every time he moves. His thrusts become more frantic and less rhythmic as he feels his high washing over him and before he knew it, he's already gripping both of your breasts in his palm, lips latching on to yours as the both of you cum.

Jays body lurches forwards, making him push his hips deeper. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, body becoming numb as your skin pressed onto his lips muffle his cries. Jay spurts his cum inside the plastic, some of it even spilling out because of how much he'd cum. After, he lets himself thrust into you at a languid pace, letting the both of you ride off your highs together.

"I love you, too by the way." Panting, you say, realising you left his confession without an answer.

He chuckled against your neck and then smiling right after because of how happy he was. "I love you more." He hmphs, egging you on for a challenge.

"Oh, yeah? I doubt it." You reply with a mischievous grin, leaning up to rub your nose against Jays. While doing so, your eyes catch a glimpse of the portrait you had previously made. "Think they’ll still accept your entry even though it’s not me on the picture?’’

Looking at you, your eyes lead him towards where your gaze is focused. He blushes, completely forgetting the naked painting you did just minutes prior. Catching on to what you were saying, Jay jokes, "They better. I need an ego boost after all that torture you put me through."

That day, you created your best artwork while Jay got his ticket to victory.

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leejungchans · 2 years

Text

seventeen’s reaction to the camera panning to them when their idol!s/o is on stage

༉‧₊˚✧ for my 1k event !

requested by anon : may i req svt reactions w/ idol s/o? you can decide on the scenario but cld i also add a detail that their relationship is public? thank you and congratulations once again!!!

a/n: hehe ty to the other anon who gave me the idea for the scenario <33 our braincells really clicked 🤝 i hope you both like this!!

word count | 1k

pairing | seventeen x gn!reader

genre | fluff, idol au

warning(s) / includes | none (please lmk if i missed anything!)

⋆͛♡⋆͛ seungcheol

gets so, so shy because he was literally caught in 4k with the biggest, goofiest smile on his face. look, it’s not his fault you decided to throw in a cute wink during your part. the second he realises he’s on the big screens, the fans start screaming and he turns bright red in .2 seconds, though the smile on his face is unwavering even as he covers his face. gets teased a lot by the guys after. (“look at coups acting all cute.”)

⋆͛♡⋆͛ jeonghan

totally unfazed. what, did you expect something else from yoon jeonghan? when they pan to him after your solo dance break, he simply makes eye contact with the camera and gives an approving nod with a grin on his face, which only makes the fans scream louder. he’s proud of you and he’s completely unapologetic with showing it.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ joshua

has his signature (⊙.⊙) look when he realises he got caught staring at the big screen after your part with literal heart eyes. you can't blame his inability to even hide his fondness when you’re the cause—you just look so captivating in your stage outfit and you’re absolutely killing the performance he knows you worked so hard for, who else is he supposed to look all smitten for? probably gives a goofy lil thumbs-up to the camera (because he doesn’t know how else to react) that you’ll definitely clown him for later when you scroll through twitter.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ jun

probably doesn’t even realise he was on the big screens the first time it happens because he’s so absorbed in your performance. only finds out when minghao, who was sitting next to him, told him about it. the cameramen definitely do it again though, and this time he notices just how smitten he looks as your group goes up on stage to receive an award. not that he’s complaining.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ soonyoung

another member who doesn’t get shy. like, at all. he’s jamming out to the rearranged version of your most recent release when they suddenly switch to put him on the big screens, while he’s still in the middle of nodding his head along to the music and excitedly mouthing to the lyrics. horanghaes when the fans start cheering because…well, he loves you. <3

⋆͛♡⋆͛ wonwoo

he’s observant, so he notices he’s being put on the big screen almost right away, but he pretends he doesn’t. he just prefers not to make a big deal out of it and take the attention away from your performance, so he keeps clapping along to the music until the camera eventually pans away. but once you look at the clip more closely after the show, you’d notice the rosy tint to his ears and the barely noticeable curl of his lips.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ jihoon

another member who’s blissfully unaware of the fact that he was put on the big screens. he’s always so focused on the music during other performances, but especially when it’s you up there. he’s so busy watching you on stage that he doesn’t even notice his face plastered on the huge screens. one of the guys tells him when it’s gone, and it’s then when it clicks why the fans had screamed so loudly. gets a little flustered for the next few minutes, but it’s in the past so he doesn’t linger on it too much.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ seokmin

he’ll always be your biggest supporter, so once the cameramen see him happily singing along to your group’s song like a true fan they immediately turn the camera around to film him. he gives the camera a huge smile and thumbs-up, though if it focuses on him a little too long he’d point back to the stage as a way to tell them to film your performance instead, because you’re always the main character in his eyes. you two end up trending everywhere for being couple goals.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ mingyu

uh-oh. the camera would catch him right when he’s biting down on his lower lip seductively because he’s just so blown away by how you look, not just in terms of your outfit but also from how you’re oozing with sheer confidence. goes from 100 to 0 the second he realises he’s been caught, and it definitely leads to him being mercilessly teased by his members. probably even earns a few laughs from his other idol friends, which makes him revert back into shy puppy mode and hide behind his members.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ minghao

he’s subtly mouthing along to your lines when the camera unexpectedly pans over to catch his reaction due to your recent dating news. his eyes widen a little and he freezes for a split second because he’s not sure how to deal with the sudden attention, especially when the audience starts screaming. but he recovers quickly and gives a little wave before the camera pans back to the stage, a soft blush on his cheeks as he devotes his full attention back to your performance.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ seungkwan

as one of the most supportive, outgoing idols in the industry, absolutely no one is surprised when he jumps up and claps happily when you win an award. all cameras are on you both as you walk past where seventeen are sitting on your way to the stage, capturing the huge smiles you send each other. they show his face on the big screen sometime during your speech, and everyone can tell how whipped he is from his starry eyes while he watches you like the proud boyfriend he is.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ vernon

:man_standing: personified. he’s just trying to vibe to your performance in peace, so when they unexpectedly project his face onto the big screens he’s so startled. still, he acknowledges the camera and gives an awkward little smile and ✌🏻 before turning back to the stage, hoping they will pan away from him soon enough. it’s cute, i promise, and you’d definitely find him really endearing once someone shows you the video.

⋆͛♡⋆͛ chan

he’s so absorbed in your performance that he doesn’t notice, especially not after your group’s dance break. one of the others nudges him when they see him appear on the screens, so he turns to face the camera and gives his signature :] smile. he’s a little perplexed from being put on the spot so suddenly, but he tries not to show it. gets more and more flustered the longer the camera lingers on him and probably bursts out laughing to brush off the embarrassment.

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maiverie · 11 months

Text

TRIAGE! ┊ a lee heeseung series — FINALE ♡

you try to teach the nerd how to date.

synopsis: heeseung is not, by any measure, date-able. he’s dorky, he’s nerdy, and he does this weird thing where he snorts loudly every time he laughs. in fact, he loves everything that normal people are allergic to — computer science, collecting rare comic books, and birdwatching on the weekend.

given that you two have obviously nothing in common, you find yourself utterly flabbergasted when you receive a letter in your locker, on which heeseung has written, "hi. will you please teach me how to date?"

MASTERLIST HERE !

kayla’s playlist (@/miiiwaa) ♡ my shitty og playlist . tags : #.*triage .

TAGLIST

@enhyflirt @dreamyenskz @icedcoffeesunwoo @ssolari @skazoo @jjunis @heejake-en @koroktsuya @jeongwins @tinykoi-s @en-boyz @soobin-chois @blessed-sky @jhyunieee @kisswon @vbxrin @cosmicsunghoon @bloomedberry @jungwonielove @miiiwaa @jungwoniee @lhsng @missharubear @deonuism @sarahxy537 @bambisgirl @hrrhmay-primaryblog @yeonzzun @msxflower @sunsunu @jangwonie @sweetjaemss @seungstarss @tokyoflies @solelyenha @softforqiankun @goodforgyu @va1ry @taekbokki @ashxxkook @moon-gyus @jakeified @markleeisdabestdrug @wccycc @viagumi @pisss111 @outrologist @fairfairee @hiqhkey @ctrlemis

chapter five (finale)

word count: 8k | navigation: previous / MASTERLIST warnings: swearing, (verbal) bullying a/n: final chapter; thank you so much for reading this far. sorry this took so long to get to you :(

‎‎‏‏‎ ‎

‘let’s have a little talk, you dweeb.’

heeseung had been backed into a corner.

while he often liked to reserve that idiom for metaphoric effect, he means it quite literally — ryujin and taehyun had literally backed him into a corner of a bedroom with no way out.

it was obvious he had stumbled across something he shouldn’t have.

ryujin and taehyun kissing? how disturbing.

if it were up to him, he truly wouldn’t have meddled in their business. however, the way they’re sneering at him leads him to believe that they think his actions were intentional. he wants to insist that no part of this was deliberate—that he was honestly just trying to find you—but tense silence circulates the trio and he has no inclination to speak first.

“who the fuck do you think you are?” ryujin punctuates the silence with her malice, making him inwardly wince. her hands find their way to her hips as she openly scowls with disdain. “god, you’re annoying.”

“i-i should go,” heeseung lowers his head, scratching the nape of his neck. “i didn’t mean to intrude,” he laughs nervously in an attempt to dispel their hostility, “i was just trying to find—”

“no, you should stay.” taehyun suggests, a smirk slithering to his lips. he rolls his head around his neck before sighing contently. “you should stay and play with us.”

play…?

heeseung physically recoils with horror, stomach twisting with unease. there’s something about taehyun’s predatory stare that flares goosebumps all the way across his arms. he realises that the most wise decision right now is to escape the enclosed space as soon as possible.

“sorry, i-i don’t want to keep my parents waiting,” he lies, lowering his head. “they’re downstairs.”

the two exchange impish glances.

“well, we won’t be long,” ryujin stifles a laugh before taking a seat on the bed. she folds one leg over the other, leaning back with her arms propped up. “since you were creeping on us, we thought you could exchange the favour and tell us all about your girlfriend.”

“girlfriend?” heeseung blinks. he doesn’t have a girlfr— oh.

miss sunset.

you? his… girlfriend?

as if.

“oh,” heeseung dips his head shyly. “n-no, you’re mistaken. she’s, um… she’s not my girlfriend.”

if he were being honest, he was kind of hoping to change that some day.

“what, so you guys haven’t fucked yet?” ryujin bats her lashes, a playful stare in her eyes.

heeseung’s brows instantly furrow, a frown on his lips. frankly, he was a little bugged by their vulgarity and the tone used to address you. this was the same type of contempt he noticed in other people in his life — like his aunt at her wedding, who pulled him aside and cautioned that ‘girls like that are foxes, heeseung! they’re nothing but trouble.’

it shouldn't matter, because they’re all wrong.

every single one of them.

they're wrong.

it boggles his mind that people can’t see what he sees.

then again, it can’t be helped that all the best things about you are what can’t be seen. sure, you’re so pretty that sometimes he can’t even meet your eyes properly, but you’re also warmer and kinder than you give yourself credit to be. you must not realise, but he notices the little things you do for him — like the way you clean his glasses when he places them down on the table to sleep; or the way you pretend you’re full so he can finish the rest of your lunch; or the way you scribble encouraging little notes and drawings on his textbooks when you know he has a long night of studying ahead of him.

it boggles his mind that some people may never have the privilege of peeking behind the curtain to see that you’re warm, and funny, and kind, and caring. you embody everything that his well-fitting nickname suggests. miss sunset — a blaze of colour; an explosion of soft yellows, bright oranges, fierce reds, pearly pinks and vibrant purples.

you’re a fiery kiss to the sky.

it’s both a shame and an honour that he’s able to keep you to himself.

“you know she likes you, right?” ryujin smirks, erecting from the bed.

heeseung’s eyes instantly round. “wh-what?”

“yeah,” she slowly slinks toward him. “she told me.”

“r-really?”

“duh. why wouldn’t she? we’re best friends,” ryujin scoffs, arms folded. “and i know her better than anyone. we’ve known each other since we were little kids, you know.”

heeseung notices that you don’t often talk about your relationship with ryujin and taehyun. you don’t really tell heeseung much about anything from your past, but he would certainly consider your old friendships to be the biggest elephant in the room. he doesn’t doubt that you were all once close friends, but he knows you haven’t been in contact with them for a while now. it’s obvious why, in his opinion — they’re mean-spirited people who enjoy sinking their claws into people and injecting poison.

they’re callous and vicious and hateful. they’re everything that you’re not.

‘best friends’? he felt insulted for you.

it was like trying to hold a candle to the sun.

“what… what was she like?” heeseung can’t help but ask, his stomach doing a little flip at the thought of you as a child. he knows he should probably leave the room, but the temptation runs too deep — he wants to consume everything about you.

what did your hair look like? what did your laugh sound like? did you prefer playing outside or staying inside? what made you smile during the day and what kept you up at night?

his heart began to thump at the thought of these answers before reluctance settled in.

was it wrong to wonder these many things about you?

was he allowed to be curious?

would that truly be okay — given that you were a goddess and he was next to nothing?

“cute,” ryujin replies, head bobbing. “she was cute.”

aha!

heeseung can’t help but smile profusely. “of course! i knew it,” he mumbles, blushing to himself. of course she was cute; beauty like that must have been obvious even at a young age.

ryujin’s razor-sharp stare remained. she seemed to study heeseung carefully before lowering her gaze. “she was also kind of mean, i guess,” she continued, inspecting her nails nonchalantly. “a bit of a bully.”

taehyun stifled a laugh at this, and they exchanged knowing glances as though they were indulging in an inside joke. “oh, yeah, i remember she once bullied that kid for sitting in her seat.”

bullied?

heeseung frowned, doubtful about their claims. he reminds himself that they’re both the type of people to embellish any story for their own entertainment. “you’re wrong,” he frowns. “she wouldn’t do something like that. sh-she’s not like you. she’s different.”

ryujin’s lips extend into a smile. “how well do you think you know her?”

his frown deepened. “better than you do.”

the pair instantly burst into cacophonous laughter that seems to poison the air in the room.

heeseung bites his bottom lip, feeling unease swirling around at the pit of his stomach.

“really?” ryujin defies him with a raised brow. “you really think you know her that well?”

he nods slowly.

“okay,” she tilts her head, “then where is she right now?”

heeseung’s eyes flicker to the ground. he didn’t know the answer to that question, but that wasn’t indicative of anything. “well, i-i don’t know, but… she’ll be back—”

“obviously, she ditched you. she left you, heeseung, it’s something we used to do a lot. we’d invite two or three suckers to a party, get them drunk as shit, and then make them entertain us for the next few hours.”

his eyes widened as he fell into momentary silence, forming as many rational justifications as he could. “but… i was the one who asked her to come with me. and… and you just told me that she… she likes me.”

ryujin rolled her eyes. “the only reason yuna invited you was because we thought it’d be funny. plus, don’t get me wrong — i’m sure she likes you, but don’t put any weight on that. it’s like how a person can like a helpless puppy. it’s pity; that’s all it is.”

“th-that doesn’t mean anything.” heeseung felt discomfort sprout inside his chest, branching insidiously in his lungs and up his throat. “that has nothing to do with her! she’s… she’s an angel.”

“really?” ryujin slithered over toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder, clenching it tightly to bring their faces close. “then why’d she tell us about that letter of yours?”

heeseung felt his heart drop to his feet. “wh-what?”

“the letter you left in her locker,” ryujin continued. “what did it say again? something like…” she pretended to brainstorm, tapping her chin with a finger. “oh! right… wasn’t it something like hi, will you please teach me how to date?” ryujin giggled as taehyun joined in snickering from behind.

his breathing quickened. the letter.

you told him you never told anyone about that.

did you lie?

maybe they’re bluffing — you wouldn’t do that. and even if you did lie, you would have definitely told heeseung afterward, right?

“the funniest part was the fact that you signed it off like the fucking virgin-loser you are. kind regards, lee heeseu—” they cackled again, this time even louder. they continued to banter with one another by echoing the contents of the letters.

heeseung felt himself shrink. hot tears burned his eyes as he felt their humiliation pile on and on as though they were determined in hammering him into the ground.

“oh my god,” ryujin laughed, wiping the tears from her eyes. “gee, thanks for tonight’s entertainment, heeseung,” she chuckles off the rest of her amusement, “i wish i took a photo of the letter or something. so that i could share it around with—”

“no!” heeseung cried as he swallowed the lump in his throat and began to enter a swivet of panic. “d-don’t! i-i—”

“you’re shaking like a leaf!” ryujin pouts, reaching to grab his shoulder before he flinches. “it’s okay. i won’t tell anyone. unlike your girlfriend, i know how to keep secrets,” she whistled. “say, heeseung… i’m keeping a lot of secrets these days, aren’t i?” she brushed his hair with her fingers.

“even yours.”

he stopped dead, chest rising up and down as he attempted to breathe. he tried to clear his tears with rapid blinking, but it only resulted in more tears replacing the previous ones.

“don’t worry. we’ve been nice. we haven’t told her your secret yet,” she winked.

yet?

“listen,” ryujin’s voice lowers, her finger lifting his chin so that he faces her. “i really don’t want to keep your parents waiting for too long, so i’ll say this: your girlfriend’s not a saint. she’s vicious in her own way. and if you hate us for the things we make you do, then you should hate her, too. why? because she and i are exactly the same — everything we’ve done to you, she’s done to someone else.”

“y-you’re… you’re wrong.” he turned away from her finger.

ryujin hummed once. “well, let’s face the facts.” her lips slowly lifted into a grin. “you’re alone right now, heeseung. she’s not even here. she left you. i saw her get in the car and leave just earlier. go ahead and look outside if you don’t believe me.”

heeseung’s gaze flickered to the ground.

“but anyway,” ryujin whirls around and exchanges a smile with taehyun. “we gotta go… we wouldn’t want to stay out too late since we have an early morning, right?” she smirks. “we’ll see you tomorrow, heeseung. at the police station.”

“wh-what? why?”

“because someone ratted us out,” taehyun chimes in, eyes rolling. “so we’ll keep your secret so long as you do one more favour for us.”

you can have your puzzle back. i don't want it anymore.

“you can have your puzzle back.” your little sun says, his voice lowering into a register so low that you almost miss it. “i don’t want it anymore.”

the room remained dark as heeseung’s words hung like ghosts in dead silence.

it was deafening, the way his whisper was the softest sound you’d ever heard. you were holding your breath, fearing a reality in which i don’t want it anymore meant something beyond what you could hear at face value.

“i don’t want your stupid gift,” he croaks, burying his face in his hands, stifling a sob. “j-just… please, just leave me alone.”

finding him sitting in the dark room alone and crying made your heart shatter. it was easy to confront the idea that ryujin or taehyun had hurt him, but you weren’t equipped to face the possibility that it might have been you. the distance he was creating between the two of you allowed your inner antagonisms to fester — your chest tightened with unease, exacerbated by the pressure of fear expanding within you.

“h-heeseung,” you blurted in surprise, your throat so parched that it forced you to swallow and brace yourself for what felt like impending heartbreak. “why…”

you were so stunned that it honestly felt as though time had stopped moving for a moment. you allowed space to pour between the two of you — you let a beat pass, then two, then three, then four, and with each one that scurried by, you grew more and more apprehensive that he wasn’t going to retrace his steps. you thought there was a chance he’d backpedal his words and tell you they’d sprung from his chest in the heat of the moment, but instead, he let you soak in abject misery.

your heart sank. above everything, you were terrified — he was slipping away from you like dust between your fingertips. it wasn’t long before tears followed — they blurred your vision, no matter how many times you’d tried to dismiss them with your hands.

“h-heeseung?” you called his name softly and hoped to peel his fingers away from his face, but he flinched at your touch. in every attempt you make in closing the distance, you find that heeseung draws a line between you; each harsher than the last. he recoils at your touch, shrivels at the sound of your voice, and offers you nothing but a view of his back that shields you away.

he was cowering from you.

it made you feel ill. sick. like the taste of bile was rising to your mouth and leaving an acidic, ghostly burn in your throat. bit by bit, your resolve was crumbling like a house of cards.

“tell me what’s wrong,” you begged him, crouching before him on the carpet though he curled away from you. “i promise i’ll fix it, okay? i’ll fix everything.”

“y-you can’t,” he sniffled.

you felt your throat constrict. “why not?”

“because…” heeseung finally lifted his head, and the moment your eyes locked with his bloodshot ones, it felt as though his fear, hurt, and pain ricocheted back to you tenfold and struck you like a stab to the heart. he sniffled again. “because you lied,” you saw his eyes well with tears again, “and i lied, and—” his voice became smaller. “all we do is lie to each other.”

perhaps this was what you’d always feared — that you were going to be the one to break him.

after all, you had a tendency to do precisely that. you can’t even count the number of times you’d accidentally shattered the dishes in the kitchen that your mother adored so dearly. or the number of bones you’d broken during wild dares from late nights. or the countless number of fractured friendships in your life because you never really struggled with breaking — whether they were dishes, or bones, or promises, or hearts.

was he another?

was heeseung just another one of those things you were always bound to break?

“please leave,” his voice was becoming softer, and softer, and softer, further eclipsed by his cries. you could tell he was struggling to make out his words. you could also tell that he was being honest.

you’ve never had anyone beg you like this before.

“okay,” you whisper, tears littering the carpet. “i’ll leave.”

unable to look at him any further, you twist on your heels. you do what you do best — you run. you run down the stairs and out the house and run and run and run, ashamed that this story has unfolded the exact way anyone could have predicted.

he hates you, you may love him, and neither of you are puzzle pieces that fit together.

perhaps heeseung was right; perhaps you truly are sunrises and sunsets, because alike parallel lines, the two never meet.

perhaps heeseung never taught you to heal after all. perhaps broken bones and hearts can never properly heal, the same way cuts and grazes may leave permanent scars on our bodies. perhaps your body did what it could to fix what broke, but it only took one gust of wind to retrace old scars and re-break what will always remain broken.

you’ve never been very good with your emotions.

you constantly misrepresent them.

you smile when you’re sad, frown when you’re happy, say things you don’t mean and omit the words that you resonate deepest with.

after the party, you cried like you have never cried before. it was a foreign, almost out-of-body experience. every emotion exploded and pierced through the thin surface they were bubbling beneath. your scathing tears had soaked everything — your eyes, your cheeks, and your pillow late through the night. the worst of it was the heaviness inside your chest that ceased to subside, one so hefty that it was the reason you felt like you were sinking to the bottom of an ocean.

it was only until the next morning that anger, the emotion you consider to be the easiest to wear, brought you the energy to pay a visit to ryujin. you were going to get the answers to all your questions.

after all, that was what you’d learned over the years — anger is the only emotion that gets you answers.

which is why you began with ruthlessly banging your fist on her front door.

“open the door, ryujin!” you bellow.

bang! bang! bang!

what could she have possibly said to heeseung?

bang! bang! bang!

why? why was it that ryujin was so insistent on butting in your life?

bang! bang! bang!

was this some form of karmic reparation? was the universe simply rescinding what should have never been yours in the first place?

you didn’t know what you were going to do. or say, for that matter. yet here you were, desperately trying to claw your way up to the surface where the sun kisses the water. to hell you were going to let this heaviness make you sink and give ryujin the satisfaction.

with no response on the other end, you began to kick the door now.

bang! bang! bang!

“i said, open this fucking d—”

it finally swings open.

“are you fucking nuts?” ryujin shrieks from the other side, face contorted with outrage and disbelief. she glances at the door before openly gaping at you. “what the hell? you’re going to break the fucking do—”

you waste no time in lunging toward her. you shove her with both hands, thrusting her so far behind that she lurches back and stumbles onto the floor. while sprawled on the ground, ryujin instantly snaps her head up at you and scowls. “what the fuck is wro—”

yet again, you don’t give her much time to react. you step toward her, making her scramble back before her back hits the wall. as the distance between the two of you closes, you crouch in front of her and roughly push the side of her head with a finger.

“what, ryujin?” you smirk vindictively. “did that hurt?”

her chest sharply rises heavily when she meets your icy glower. “get out.”

though she attempts to pick herself up from the floor, you harshly grip her shoulder and force her back down. you reach over and tap her cheek condescendingly, your voice now a lowly whisper.

“how funny,” you scoff, head tilted. “i thought i told you to stay out of my life.”

she grits her teeth. “i said, get out.”

“why should i? you’re the one who keeps insisting on getting involved in my shit.”

“you’re batshit.” she gapes at you. “is this about that dweeb?”

“his name is heeseung.” you snap at her, bunching the collar of her shirt in your fist. you yank her toward you, your other fist lifted and curled.

ryujin barks out a dry laugh when her eyes flit to the sight of your fist. “you’re going to punch me?” she snickers again in disbelief. the sight of her grin makes your fist tighten under her shirt. anger. you felt your anger simmer at cautionary temperatures and slowly branch up in your neck to your face.

“what did you do to him?” you grit your teeth, breathing slowly to control your emotions.

it was difficult, because you felt as though she relished at the sight of your anger. she must have recognised your most familiar emotion and felt as though you had shifted back into becoming your old self. you saw it in the way her lips curled, and the way her brows had lifted, and most notably, in the way her eyes paraded a small, tiny, starry glint that conveyed her amusement.

it made you wonder if she was doing this all intentionally.

just to get a reaction out of you.

just to get something.

“it wasn’t exactly what we did to him,” she smirked. “it was what he did to himself, really.”

“where’s taehyun?” you reach over and slowly comb your fingers through her hair, before closing your fist and grasping a bundle of her strands, jerking her head backwards. “i want him to see your face all battered up. you know, before i beat the living shit out of him, too.”

she sneers at you. “why don’t you ask heeseung? i’m sure he’ll know exactly where taehyun is.”

you narrow your eyes at her. “what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“they’re probably together right now.”

heeseung and taehyun? together?

you scoff. “what?”

she stifles a laugh, and there it is again — that glint. like a tiny star amidst a midnight canvas. you could feel the anger grow like an inferno within you. that glint was pestering you; it was almost begging for you to reach over and extinguish it. you grip her hair harsher, this time yanking her head backward.

she yelps as you pin her down with a glower. “tell me where.”

she hisses at the pain of your grip on her hair and narrows her eyes. “police station, obviously,” she spat with a glare.

her eyes met yours, where your confusion must have been evident. those midnight eyes turned with patronising pity. “wow,” she remarked sarcastically. “the idiot still hasn’t told you.”

“ryujin,” you lean toward her and hiss slowly, with the intended effect that each syllable augments your hostility, “say one more thing about him and i’ll bash your skull against the cement.”

“now tell me,” you hiss, “what are they doing at the police station?” though your words appeared to be laced with composed venom, the truth remained that your heart had begun to drum. everything was coming at a surprise — you couldn’t imagine what would ever bring heeseung to a police station, though you could enumerate a thousand reasons for taehyun.

“like i said, heeseung did it to himself.”

not satisfied with her answer, you yank her hair again and this time she attempts to strike you with her free arm, but you grab her wrist and desist her from doing so. she winces when you pull her hair tighter, prompting her to quickly open her mouth and elaborate. “okay, okay!” she cries. “he was the one who agreed to take the drug test for taehyun!”

your lips drop into a frown. “what?”

“then the police found out, okay?” she seethed. “we needed him to come in and deny everything. happy?”

you stopped in confusion. what the hell was she talking about? as you sifted through the many thoughts that raced in your mind, you finally froze when you began to comprehend the situation.

you remember now. it was that day — the day you’d first met heeseung in the school hallway, when taehyun had set his eyes upon and sunken his claws into his latest victim.

taehyun was a drug user, and when he was finally caught by the school, he was mandated to perform probationary urine tests. he constantly evaded these tests by intimidating somebody into giving him fake samples. this was common practice, and it just so happened that heeseung was his chosen victim the day you two had first met.

heeseung never told you that.

he never told you that he went through with it.

“i mean, maybe if he’d kept his mouth shut or done a better job at peeing in a fucking cup, things wouldn’t be like this. in saying that, whose fault is it really?” ryujin rambled on, rubbing salt to the wound as your anger multiplied. “it was still fun at least. especially when we got to talk about you.”

your hand balled into a tighter fist.

“me?” you pin her down with a dark gaze. “what the fuck did you say about me?”

she shrugs smugly. you watched as a sly smile slithered to her lips and her eyes pooled with shiny darkness. “nothing that wasn’t true.”

your heart drops to your feet.

“you know, it’s funny,” ryujin stifles a laugh, “because he denied it at first. said that you were…” she lifts her hands and uses her fingers to show quotation marks, “different.” you felt your anxiety pierce and gush into your stomach. “we laughed in his face. different, my ass. you didn’t tell him, did you? that you’re actually as much of a piece of shit as we are. he even called you an angel, you know that?”

angel.

“so we decided to set the record straight and we told him what he had the right to know.” she giggled. “you didn’t forget, did you?”

you stared.

“the letter,” she reminds you. “he was so embarrassed i think that was when he started to cry.”

you froze.

the letter.

fuck.

you wanted nothing more than to run to heeseung and clarify the misunderstanding as best that you could. you wanted to talk to him. hold him. apologise and tell him you’d never intentionally hurt him. that it was an accident — that you lied, yes, but you just didn’t want him to feel embarrassed at that time. that it was a lapse in judgement.

but for some reason, something holds you back.

anger.

anger holds you back.

the thing about anger is that while it may be your most familiar emotion, it is also the most paralysing of them all. and when it’s combined with resentment, it becomes insidious. the reality about anger is that it exists only in the absence of control, a dangerous condition to find yourself in.

nevertheless, you feel that way.

you feel out of control.

helpless. angry. frustrated.

why? because that glint is still there. the gleaming, ostentatious star in her eyes that flounces around in her own delight. mocking you.

ryujin is staring at you expectantly, anticipating your reaction.

you know that she’s waiting for you to punch her. to show her you prefer fists over words. to show her you have not changed in the slightest. everything she has done is aimed to get a rise out of you; she doesn’t care about anything else but avenging the fact you had tossed your friendship to the side — that you had tossed her aside.

in this moment, you realise that no matter how hard you try, you know that ryujin has won. she doesn’t even need to try very hard to show you that you will never be able to change into a better person. your efforts have come to naught. even now, you are held by anger; you want it to control you — even if it means reversing everything heeseung had taught you about not acting upon your impulses; about not fighting fire with fire.

you wonder how heeseung would react if he found out what you’d done today. that you’d allowed anger to override you and that you had already used your hands on ryujin.

you pushed her, shoved her to the ground and pulled her hair without a second thought.

after all, you’d proven her right — you are still the same person.

how would he react?

these very thoughts loosen your grip on ryujin’s collar.

you slowly retract your hands from her, feeling the heaviness inside your chest gnaw at you. why are you stooping to her level? as you swallow and salvage whatever amount of sense you have left, you shake your head and slowly rise to your feet.

if heeseung saw you now, he’d probably be scared.

he’d probably see them in you.

your sudden withdrawal makes ryujin freeze. she seems taken off guard. she watches you suspiciously as you attempt to compose yourself, noticeably irked by your lack of response. “you’re… not going to hit me?” she hesitates, sitting up slowly.

“ryujin, you and i are done.” you attempt to stabilise your shaky breaths. for some reason, focusing on heeseung helps your mind from spinning. he’s your anchor and when you use him as your moral compass, he brings the clarity you need. “for real this time.”

“what?” ryujin splutters with disbelief. she pauses, openly gawking. “what the fuck?” she scrambles to her feet and storms over toward you before abruptly shoving you into the door — the impact thunders down your spine and instantly releases a grunt from you, head spinning.

“hit me!” she taunts you by sneering in your face. “i made your little boy cry. hit me.”

“if he wanted me to, i honestly would,” you spit at her. “you should thank him you’re not bleeding out right now.”

she yells as you storm away from her house and it occurs to you that there’s really only one person you want to see right now.

you want to tell him that he was right.

you are different from ryujin after all.

and you will do whatever it takes to stray further and further away from being anything remotely similar.

‘you never know.’ ‘you might wake up one day and find that the sun is gone.’ ‘and then it’s like, poof — no more sunsets.’

heeseung was right.

the day you two had first met, you laughed and called him a loser for taking photos of the sunset. after all, he was attempting to immortalise something that was already a cosmic promise.

honestly, you didn’t get it.

what was the point of taking a photo of something he could see every day?

you realise now that he was right all along – it really was possible to wake up one day and find the sun gone.

everybody just has a different idea of what the sun is to them. for you, yours disappeared when you realised heeseung was doing whatever it took to avoid you over the weekend.

your texts were left unanswered.

calls were sent to voicemail.

he was shutting you out.

you tried to visit his house on sunday morning, but his mother faced you with a regretful smile and asked you not to come in. you didn’t know what else you could do because he seemed to close down every avenue you pursued.

you were so eager on monday morning to see him at school. you were an hour and a half early as you roamed everywhere, attempting to control your nerves. you didn’t know whether or not you should have waited at the school entrance, or by his locker, or just outside the classroom door.

it didn't matter, because he was late.

you were already halfway through the day when you had almost given up, though you got your first glimpse of him in days when he had finally showed up.

he looked almost as horrible as you did.

the darkness under his eyes had grown. his brown hair was fluffy and in plain disarray compared to how he usually styled it. his eyes were so puffy that it looked like he’d been crying all weekend, the same way you had. you tried to catch his eyes, but he didn’t return your gaze and instead slid into his desk quietly with his shoulders slumped.

there was a pang in your chest. his appearance made guilt expand within you.

did you do the impossible? did you break the sun and make it rain?

when class finished, you waited outside the door and stopped him when he tried to leave. it was only then that he finally looked back at you and you felt your heart stop. it took you all the strength to not cry, so you snaked a hand around his wrist and led the way to the school’s court garden.

“heeseung,” you faced him when you both stopped at a quiet place inside the open garden. his gaze was affixed to the grass beneath his shoes, so you took a deep breath and let the words flow from your chest.

“heeseung, i’m so sorry for lying to you about the letter.”

he didn’t reply.

it stung to hear silence on the other end because you weren’t used to it. you were used to heeseung’s warmth; his smiles, his laughs, and the bright stars in his eyes. instead, he seemed to have retreated back into a shell of dejection.

you gulped and fiddled with your hands. “i-i should have told you the truth. ryujin saw it, yes, but it wasn’t because i showed her. i-i just… she was there when i found it in my locker. that’s it. it’s not an excuse for lying, but i promise i would never intentionally embarrass you.”

you waited for his response and still found silence. this was when panic slowly crept up inside you.

“i-i really fucked up when i lied to you. i just didn’t want to embarrass you, and the more time that went on, the weirder it felt to bring it up. but i should have told you the truth. i’m sorry, heeseung.”

there was a pause before he finally lifted his head.

“stop apologising,” he whispered so gently you almost missed it.

“wh-what?”

“it was here,” he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth and roamed the area with his eyes. “i-i think it was here when you told me to stop apologising to people. you said i said sorry too much.”

god, you felt relief in your chest, it felt nice to hear his voice again. you were worried he might never talk to you again.

as you briefly considered his answer, you glanced around and recognised the bench you two had sat on when he’d tried to confess to lia. he was right — it was exactly here that you two had your first real conversation. your stomach twisted. he always remembers everything.

“i’m really sorry for ignoring you over the weekend.” heeseung finally returned your stare, and once your eyes had met, you felt your heart squeeze at the sight of misery in his pretty eyes. you hate the sight of him like this. this must be one of the worst things you’ve ever done. you wanted nothing more than for the rain to stop and the clouds to pave way for your sunshine.

“i-i just needed some space,” he continued gently. “and actually… mom thought it was a better idea for her to take my phone, so i didn’t see your texts.”

“oh,” you replied, noticing the distant tone in his voice. “it’s okay, heeseung. i understand.”

“but, um… i did a lot of thinking,” he says, smiling weakly.

you smiled back, though trepidation edged along your nerves. “o-okay.”

his eyes diverted to the side. “i… i wasn’t sad over the weekend because of the letter. i—” you saw his eyes flicker upwards toward the sky, as though he was attempting to contain his tears. “i-i think… i was just upset because…” he bit on his lips as you watched him deliberate over his next words. your heart was beating faster and faster at the possibility this may be the last conversation you ever have with him. it was selfish, but you didn’t know if that would be manageable for you.

because even if he didn’t need you, you needed him.

“because i didn’t tell you about taehyun,” his lips fell into a sad frown. “thing is, i… i was really embarrassed about it. and… well, i-i…” he took a deep, shaky breath.

you knew he was gathering as much courage as he could to speak with you.

“i just really, really, really hate embarrassing myself in front of the person that i like.”

he finally looked up at you and everything in you stopped. blood felt like the crackling of lightning in your veins. every other sound seemed to dull into a deafening silence.

“to clarify, th-that’s you. y-you’re the person that i like. a lot. i like you really a lot— that... doesn’t make sense,” he winced at himself, eyes shut tightly. “i’m sorry, i… i sound so stupid right now.” he slumped his shoulders.

“heeseung, i—”

“wait. p-please let me continue,” he looked up at you through his glasses and you fell straight into his deer-like eyes.

“okay,” you whispered. “go on.”

“i… i just want to be good enough for you,” he finally admitted and you felt everything around you crash. him? good enough for you? he already was; he was more than enough. you were the one struggling to catch up with him. “be someone you can depend on. someone you can trust and be proud of.”

“heeseung,” you step toward him and clasp his hands with yours, forcing him to look back at you. “you’re right. you really do sound stupid.”

“h-huh?” he peered up at you as you saw panic flicker like disco lights in his eyes. “i-i’m sorry, i… i just wanted to come clean and not lie to you anymore. i’m really sorry for pressuring you, i—”

“no,” you shook your head, silencing him immediately. “it’s not because of that.”

you dropped his hands and slid yours in the spaces under his arms where you could wrap around his waist and embrace him into a tight hug. he instantly froze while you allowed yourself to melt into him, your face in his chest.

“fuck,” you mumbled against his uniform, inhaling the scent of his laundry powder. “i missed you like crazy.”

his heart was hammering inside his chest and you squeezed yourself tighter, finding solace in the synchronicity of your beat with his.

“two days and i felt like i was going insane,” you gripped his blazer tightly, “i… i thought you hated me.”

“hate you? n-no way…”

a stupidly wide smile stretched across your lips. slowly, you noticed heeseung was beginning to return your embrace. his arms slowly found their way to your back, and once they rested on your body, you allowed yourself to take a proper breath, engraving memories associated with his scent.

“i like you too, dummy,” you mumbled against the fabric. “ceaselessly. probably way more than you like me.”

“you—”

“yes, me.”

“y-you… you really like me? for real?”

when you release him, his bewildered expression makes you instantly erupt into a fit of laughter. he seems to take this as an indication that you’re messing him because of the way lips return into a point.

“are you kidding?” you scoffed playfully, grabbing his face and cradling it with both hands, his soft skin against yours. “you make it ridiculously easy to.”

“a-are you serious?” he pointed to himself, lashes batting innocently. “you really like me? me? heeseung? you like lee heeseung? you know i’m heeseung, right?”

you stare, astounded by his reaction. “you’re crazy.”

“no, i just told you i’m heeseung,” he deadpanned.

idiot. “yes, heeseung. you. i like you like crazy. it’s sickening how much i do.”

heeseung watched you expressionless for a moment before you watched his face explode with sunshine. speckles of gold dust returned to his eyes and twinkled like constellations. his smile swept his face and instantly made your heart thump out your ears.

“you’re not lying, right? you really like me? and it’s definitely because of my bowties, right?”

you almost wanted to groan aloud and slap yourself in the face, but you stifled down this desire and shook your head instead. sickening, you thought to yourself. his sunshine is so sickeningly sweet.

and if there’s one thing about you — it’s that you have a sweet tooth; and heeseung is a taste you have been dying to have.

“yes. it’s definitely the bowties. they’re basically chick magnets,” you remarked, a smirk forming. “do you know what happens to chick magnets?”

heeseung quickly shook his head.

you smiled. “they get devoured.”

heeseung’s brows slightly furrowed, his head tilted to the side in what appeared to be confusion. he blinked, not quite understanding your implication.

“in other words, i’m going to kiss you.”

that, he understood.

heeseung’s eyes instantly rounded like saucers. “h-huh?”

“i know you heard me,” you took a step toward him, circling your arms around the back of his neck to ring him in close. he blushed at the proximity, and if you were being honest, so did you.

frankly, you were more nervous than you’d thought you would be. this was the fastest and hardest you’d ever felt your heart beat; it almost threatened to leap up through your throat.

perhaps it was because heeseung was an expert at annihilating everything you thought you knew about yourself. he was great at that: showing you that you were much further from who you thought you were, and close to who you thought you could never be. there were no more first, second, third, and fourth experiences anymore. just a life before him and after him.

when you felt his breath nearing and the heat from his chest, you thought your head spun for a moment. it felt as though the distance between your lips were simultaneously the closest and farthest distances apart. it wasn’t until he sighed – a release of just the faintest, softest breath — that the sound swept through your chest like a hurricane, and you felt everything within you topple over.

your whole body sank forward into his and you kissed him. you shut your eyes and did what you feared most — you opened up your heart to him and let everything you had within you flow out so that he could feel every inch of your warmth and sincerity. you led the movement first, noticing the way he tried to mimic your movements. he was slow and uncertain at first, until he followed through with what felt right.

when he began to kiss you back, it felt like fireworks shattered within you. you instantly softened when he looped his arms around your waist and hugged you tightly, because there was no safer feeling than being in his arms.

you knew it.

heeseung is good at everything he tries.

when the kiss deepened, you thought he tasted like he fell from the clouds and the stars. like stardust and eternity and endlessness. you liked the taste of that. all you’ve ever known are temporary people, the leaving and the waiting and the hoping, so it makes all the more sense when you crumble and melt at the taste of forever and focus on carving this memory onto your soul.

you couldn’t deny it any further — you were falling in love with him. in fact, you’d fallen down a slippery slope that led you into a pit with no way of crawling yourself out.

when your lips pull away, you’re both panting for a proper breath. it isn’t until your eyes meet that the world stops moving and something warm ignites like a candle.

you allowed time to pass you by as your eyes raked every feature of his face; drinking in his beauty, indulging in the rare moment you were able to admire him so closely. you felt bewitched by the way the sunlight gently radiated his features; they shone through the sky and struck him like a spotlight, even in broad daylight. being this close to him brought forward all of his prettiest, most finely drawn features – the mole on the left side of his lips, his long, wispy lashes, and the slight scrunch of his brows.

you should’ve stopped, but you couldn’t, because he was prettier the longer you stared.

time slowed while you were slipping further and further into an enchanting spell.

falling.

you always hated that — the sensation of falling. being out of control; being helpless. but somehow, with heeseung it felt different — you were falling through time and space and the stars and the sky and everything in between. it was really beautiful.

you’ve been falling for days and weeks and what felt like lifetime across lifetimes. you fell until it no longer felt like falling, but flying.

“heeseung, you’re really bad at kissing, you know that?”

you felt so bad when his entire face fell and he looked at you with complete horror. “wh-what?”

you placed a finger on his lips to keep him from talking. “since you’re so bad, i think you need a few more lessons,” you smiled. “let’s ditch school and go to back to mine. you know, for education’s sake.” you winked.

heeseung tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, smiling shyly. “o-okay.”

fin.

a/n: and then they went home and watched Star Wars :) ANYWAYS. guys u do not understand I actually went thru 32842378 cycles of frustration, anger, and giddiness while trying to wrap this series up. I'm not lying when I say I have about 6 different versions of this chapter, but I decided to keep it simple and straight to the point because ultimately that's what I felt triage was all about :) if you came here looking for genuine dating tips& got lost im sorry i can’t help u cos I'm in my healing era (subtext: literally no man wants me). but anyways I hope this series brought you a little bit of joy some way or another. I honestly had the best time writing it ^^ all the best! hope i to see u in my future works too! thanks for reading! love u so much! <3 (also feedback would be vv nice if u have the time!) MWAH

also, i’ll probably write bonus chapters every time i miss this story so lmk if u wanna be tagged in those ^^

back to masterlist.

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sankyeom · 2 years

Text

ACT NOW, THINK LATER! | S.JY

pairing: jake sim x reader (she/her pronouns) genre(s): university/college au, strangers to friends to lovers, summary: in which you kiss a stranger to prove to your friends that you’re over lee heeseung, only to discover that this stranger is completely entangled in your life word count: 9.6k warning(s): alcohol consumption, mentions of being tipsy note: this is based on this victon subin timestamp i wrote last year, but i kind of lost inspiration for it as a subin fic and wrote it into a jake fic lol. anyway, enjoy!

masterlist

“I change my mind,” Sunghoon said, standing at the party host’s door. “Let’s not go.”

You smiled, used to his introverted behaviour. “Okay,” you agreed. “We can leave if you don’t want to go in.”

“No,” Sunghoon sighed. “We should go in. If we don’t, everyone’s going to think that you bailed because of Heeseung and Hana.”

You groaned, glaring at him. “You know what, just because you said that, we’re going in whether you like it or not,” you decided, opening the front door and gently pushing Sunghoon through the doorway.

“Hey,” he protested, stumbling slightly over his feet and laughing when he saw your irritated expression. “I said that everyone else would think that, I know it’s not true,” Sunghoon defended himself.

“Yeah, well, I’m getting sick of everyone bringing it up around me,” you admitted, making a beeline for the kitchen to pour yourself a drink. “I just wish everyone would stop talking about it! I literally have no issues with either of them, and there’s no lingering feelings or whatever. I’m good, I’m totally fine,” you muttered, sipping your drink with a frown on your face.

“Alright, I’m sorry,” Sunghoon admitted, gingerly scanning the assortment of snacks with vague disinterest.

“You know Jay and Niki came up to me today to tell me that Heeseung and Hana got back together,” you said, rolling your eyes at the memory of Niki storming into the library and Jay cornering you after your morning lecture. “It’s everyone else who’s making a big deal out of it, not me.”

Noticing how you were growing more frustrated the more you talked about it, Sunghoon was quick to concede. “I won’t bring it up again, I promise,” he assured you.

“Thanks,” you sighed. “Now let’s go find our friends before they send a search party,” you suggested, scanning the crowded living room to search for your friend group.

You didn’t have to look far, since all of your friends – minus Heeseung and his girlfriend – had spotted you first, making their way over to the significantly less crowded kitchen. You hesitantly waved them over, slightly dreading the concerned looks you knew they would give you.

“Hey,” Jay, who was impeccably dressed and perfectly styled as always, acknowledged you with a hug. You hugged back, barely seeing over his shoulder to see your other friends greet each other.

“If it isn’t my favourite heartbroken friend,” Jungwon teased you, grinning brightly in amusement.

You narrowed your eyes at him, playfully pointing a threatening finger at him. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” you told him. “Can we please stop talking about it?”

“We haven’t even started talking about it!” Sunoo complained. “I can’t believe Heeseung would do this to you.”

“He didn’t do anything,” you insisted. “And would you keep your voice down? They could be anywhere and I don’t want to start anything,” you added, hurriedly looking around to see if Heeseung or Hana were anywhere in sight.

“Actually, he did do something,” Jay said, earning a glare from you. “What?” he exclaimed, raising his hands in surrender. “I’m just saying! You don’t kiss someone and then get back together with your ex two weeks later. Especially if that someone you kissed is one of your best friends.”

“Yeah,” Sunoo agreed, scowling. “That majorly sucks.”

“He was tipsy,” you reminded them. “And it was just a kiss! It’s no big deal.”

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say that,” Niki muttered. “Aren’t you the one who said that kisses are a jumping off point into new, exciting emotional endeavours?”

“I told you that in confidence one time at three in the morning,” you reminded him. “And that was a long time ago. My philosophy has changed.”

Jay laughed. “You’re the most stubborn person I know,” he exclaimed. “There’s no way that your philosophy on anything has changed.”

“If you guys are just going to make fun of me all night, I can leave,” you said, pointing your thumb at the front door.

“Alright, fine, we’ll stop,” Jungwon allowed, though he was still smiling at your friendly bickering. “As long as you admit that a small part of you is still pining for Heeseung.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not still pining for Heeseung,” you denied. “I don’t know how many more times I have to say it before you guys understand. But I’ll say it again: I’m not pining.”

Your friends clearly didn’t buy this. “You liked him for half a year,” Sunoo reminded you – as if you needed reminding. “And what, you suddenly decided to just get over him?”

“He has a girlfriend,” you reminded them. “Even if I did still like him, there’s no point in even discussing it.”

“Okay, then prove it,” Niki, who suddenly had one of those evil smiles on his face, suggested in a casual tone.

You sighed, knowing you’d probably regret asking. “How?”

“Easy,” Niki said innocently, and that was when you knew you were in trouble. Wearily, you nodded for him to go on. “Kiss the next person who walks through the door, and I’ll believe you.”

You rose an eyebrow, eyes sweeping across the room to the front door.

It would be simple to accept this challenge, and having all of your friends drop the subject would be reason enough to just kiss a stranger. But the truth was that Sunghoon and Jay were right; you did put a lot of importance into kisses, and your philosophy on this would probably never change.

Was it worth it to ignore your thoughts on kisses, especially first kisses, just once so your friends would leave you alone?

“I bet you’re hoping that Lee Heeseung will step through that door,” Jungwon said jokingly as your friends giggled, which made you instantly make up your mind. You knew they were just being playful, and they would never actually hurt your feelings, but you wanted to end this conversation once and for all.

“If I do this,” you began, abruptly silencing your friends as they stared at you in disbelief. “You’ll never bring this up ever again? And you’ll believe me when I say I’m over him?”

Sunoo laughed nervously. “Wait, you’re not serious?”

You smiled. “Just answer the question.”

“Yeah,” Jay nodded, the others slowly following his lead, still too shocked to think about what they were doing. “We’ll believe you.”

“Fine,” you agreed, pouring yourself a new drink and knocking it back with a wince. “Let’s see who the lucky stranger is,” you added, facing the front door.

Your friends swiftly whipped their heads around in the same direction, anticipation growing. Although you were trying to play it off, you could feel your heart beating just a little faster in your chest than it had been a minute ago. At this point, your confident act had gone far enough that your pride would no longer let you out of this deal.

When the door did finally open, you had no idea what would become of the next two minutes of your life. It took only a couple minutes for the doorknob to turn, and you could feel your breath catch as you waited to see who would walk through the doorway. You could hear your friends all holding their breath beside you, equally riveted to see who you would have to kiss.

Seconds later, a tall boy with perfect brown hair came through the doorway sporting a nervous smile.

You sighed, embarrassment filling your chest as your friends whispered amongst themselves.

Of course he had to be hot.

Fate couldn’t have been kind to you even once, and had to give you a ridiculously good-looking guy with amazing style and kind eyes to kiss in front of all of your friends.

He was dressed head-to-toe in black, the colour making his skin and brown eyes stand out even from a distance. You had never seen him before, which didn’t surprise you considering how big your university was. Luckily, this made your situation just a little less scary.

If you had never seen him before, chances were that you’d never see him again. And even though a little voice in your head was insistent that you were lying to yourself, you had to push those thoughts away. At that point, you couldn’t let your doubts stop you; you had to act now, think later.

As he closed the door behind him, he was met by the excited cheers of a few guys you didn’t know, and as your eyes swept towards them you could see Heeseung dancing with Hana. Admittedly, Heeseung’s presence added just enough doubt for you to falter in your steps towards the stranger.

Perhaps there was a tiny bit of truth to what your friends were saying. Perhaps what Heeseung did to you really did hurt a little.

Making up your mind, you placed your drink down on the kitchen counter and approached the boy, your friends buzzing with excitement behind you. The boy spotted you, sending you a friendly if not slightly confused smile.

“Um, hi-”

“Can I kiss you?” you asked him once you were directly in front of him, forgoing any sort of greeting or explanation. His eyes widened in shock, taking a moment to register your words.

Only after you spoke did you realise that the boy might reject you. Instantly, goosebumps rose on your skin at the thought of embarrassing yourself further.

To your relief, he said: “Yeah,” nodding his head once. You couldn’t help but notice just how beautiful he looked like this, lips slightly parted and pupils blown. That was all it took for you to grasp the lapels of his leather jacket and kiss him.

Despite the fact that he barely had any warning of your intentions, the stranger kissed you back, meeting your lips with equal fervour. You leaned into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he cupped your face. Even though you had never kissed this boy before, he was doing an excellent job at convincing you to do it again. He seemed to be thinking something similar as he pulled you impossibly closer.

Maybe you were right all along about first kisses being significant.

“Hi,” he greeted you breathlessly once you pulled away, thumb caressing your cheek. You felt out of breath and a little light-headed, but your stomach was warm and throbbing with butterflies.

The second his lips curved into a perfect smile, you knew you were in trouble. There was no end to those the butterflies.

“I’m Jake.”

Even his name was pretty.

Up close, his dark brown hair was swept perfectly away from his forehead and his brown eyes seemed to almost glow in the crummy entryway lights. He had pretty, pink lips and a pointed, perfect nose to top it off. The black top and jacket he was wearing made is creamy skin look even more flawless, and it took all of your self control to not pull him in for another kiss.

You could hear your friends cheering you on, causing an embarrassed flush to cross the tops of Jake’s cheeks. He let out a shy laugh, searching your eyes as if he was memorising them and sliding his hands to hold yours.

God, he’s perfect. Where on earth had this man come from? Heaven?

“Hi Jake,” you replied rather breathlessly, wondering how you were supposed to get out of this predicament. There was only one thing for it: “Um, your fly is open,” you lied, thinking on your feet as quickly as you could.

When Jake took his hands from where they were linked with yours to fix this non-existent mistake, you took your chance to escape.

[10:21pm]

niki: holy shit!!! you kissed him!!

sunghoon: i am both scarred for life and incredibly impressed, y/n

heeseung: omg what?? who did y/n kiss??

sunoo: DIDN’T YOU SEE???

heeseung: OBVIOUSLY NOT

heeseung: who was it?? tell me, tell me

jay: we don’t know who, it was just the first person to walk through the door

heeseung: YOU’RE LYINGGG

jungwon: it’s true!!

sunoo: was he a good kisser?? 😏

sunghoon: it sure looked like he was 😏

y/n: no comment…

niki: ASJFGK Y/N WHAT

y/n is offline (10:25pm)

“I’m sorry but I don’t get it,” Jay said, eyeing you suspiciously as you took your laptop and textbook out of your bag. It had been two days since the party, and you were actively doing your best to bring as little attention to yourself as possible, just in case you ran into Jake. “You’re telling me that you had an amazing first kiss with a literal stranger, and you made up some dumb excuse to get away from him?”

Your head jerked to face your friend, frowning at his accusation. “I thought it was a pretty creative excuse, thank you very much.”

“Y/n.”

“Jongseong.”

“Oh, you’re calling me by my legal name now?” Jay said, raising an eyebrow. “It’s that serious?”

“I thought I kissed a stranger so that you guys would stop bothering me,” you reminded him pointedly, opening your laptop to a new document as your Professor made her way to the front of the room.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Jay grinned victoriously, twirling a pen in his hand. “It was specific to not bothering you about the whole Heeseung and Hana thing, not to stop bothering you altogether.”

“You should change your major to law,” you mocked playfully. “Since you’re so good at remembering the clauses of our agreement.”

“Did you feel butterflies?” Now it was Jay’s turn to mock. “When he kissed you? You felt butterflies and your heart was racing, right?” he accused, relishing in the deadpan stare you sent him.

You wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug smile off your best friend’s face, but you loved him too much to actually do anything to make him stop smiling.

“That’s nothing,” you said in a hushed tone, not wanting to draw your Professor’s attention to yourself. “I felt butterflies, so what? I was nervous about kissing a stranger and had those anxious butterflies before he even walked through the door.”

“Alright, fine,” Jay conceded, dark brown eyes skimming what your Professor had projected onto the screen. Then, he met your gaze and you could see the mischievous glint in them. “Just answer this: did you feel any butterflies when you kissed Heeseung?”

“No, but he was tipsy and I don’t like him like that,” you rolled your eyes, nudging him in the arm when snorted. “So, I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“Fine,” Jay tried to hide his laughter. “Then I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just suggest that you might like that guy you kissed.”

Just as you had predicted, you didn’t see Jake again.

The first week after your kiss, you had walked around campus with extreme care to avoid him, but your university was huge and you didn’t even know what department Jake was in. Even if you tried to avoid him, you didn’t know how you would go about doing so. Soon, you grew confident that you wouldn’t unexpectedly run into him at any point and continued on with your daily routine as always.

On the Monday two weeks after the party, you were running late for your first class. Of course this was the class where you didn’t have any friends that could save you a seat, so when you arrived at the crowded lecture theatre, there was only one available seat left. It was wedged between two guys you hadn’t seen before and was a real pain to get to, having to squeeze past a whole row of seated students to sit down.

With a huff, you took your seat and started pulling your notebook and pens out of your bag.

“Hey,” the guy next to you whispered.

You hummed absentmindedly, still taking taking your supplies out as you glanced sideways, eyes widening when you recognised the guy as Jake.

He was wearing a white sweatshirt and a beige baseball cap that he wore backwards, and the brightness of his clothes made him look drastically different from the night of the party. Though he was still just as handsome, he seemed more approachable and friendly in this more casual style.

To your surprise, Jake didn’t look upset to see you. In fact, he looked at you with a bright, excited grin as if you didn’t kiss him and run away with a bogus excuse only seconds later.

“I’ve been wondering,” he began but was cut off by your Professor starting his lecture. Awkwardly, Jake cleared his throat and turned his attention to the front of the room.

You reminded yourself to do the same, having trouble dragging your eyes from the boy you had shared a frightfully amazing kiss with.

Focusing on your class was nearly impossible.

The seats in the lecture hall were cramped and small, only having a small half-table attached to every chair. You could feel the way your right leg pressed against Jake’s for the entire class. Every time he bounced his leg in boredom or shuffled in his seat, his thigh brushed against yours and made your heart jump a little.

The last thing you wanted was to get flustered, but your body seemed fixated to his every movement, which made ignoring him tedious and borderline impossible.

Trying your best, you mumbled everything the Professor was saying back to yourself so you could focus enough to actually take notes and find out what would be on your midterm. Jake glanced at you from the corner of his eye, grinning at your adorable habits and observing you shamelessly once he realised you weren’t paying him any attention.

Resting his head on his hand, which was supported by the table his elbow was propped on, Jake continued to keep an eye on you throughout the rest of the lecture, not caring if he missed out on anything. After all, asking for your notes would just give him an excuse to talk to you should he ever need one.

The moment your Professor dismissed you, you threw your pens into your bag at lightning speed and grabbed your books in your arms, trying to get away from Jake as quickly as possible.

“Hey, wait a second,” Jake called after you, jolted by your sudden haste. He fumbled with his own belongings, shoving them into his backpack absent-mindedly before rushing down the stairs after you. “Where are you going?” he wondered with what seemed to be a permanent smile, easily catching up to you thanks to his long legs.

“I have another class,” you told him as he walked down the corridor beside you. You weren’t exactly lying, you just left out the part about your class not starting for another two hours.

“Oh, okay,” he replied, mumbling a small excuse me as he passed the other students in the cramped hallway. “I just wanted to make sure, do you remember me from the other night?” Jake asked since you didn’t show any sign of recognition. “You walked right up to me and-” with widened eyes, you covered his mouth with your hands, freezing in place.

A few students grumbled but reluctantly manoeuvred around the two of you.

“Don’t say it,” you warned, wide-eyed. You couldn’t believe that he was about to say it out loud; just thinking about you walking right up to him and kissing him made you want to hide under a pile of blankets.

Jake raised an eyebrow, gently removing your hand from his mouth to reveal a laugh. His hands were soft and warm, matching his energy. The mental list you were, unintentionally, keeping of all his perfections was growing by the second. “So you do remember! I was beginning to think that you forgot all about me.”

You glanced down as he intertwined your hands, thinking back to how he did the same thing after you kissed. It was impossible for you to forget him, but you weren’t about to tell him that.

“Where’s your next class? I’ll walk you,” Jake suggested, eyes bright and curious when you looked back up at him. You had approached him so confidently the night of the party, and it was endearing for him to see you so flustered and unsure now. He had thought you were pretty cute that night, but now you were downright adorable.

“That’s okay, thanks though,” you turned down his offer, pulling your hand away without trying to seem too rude. “Anyway, I’ll see you around,” you added, quickly making a beeline for the exit of the building and leaving Jake behind, confused.

You had an odd habit of running away from him just as things were getting interesting.

When your second class of the day ended, you were thoroughly looking forward to grabbing lunch and forgetting about the day. Against your own will, you had spent most of your class thinking about Jake, and the last thing you wanted was to spend the entire day ruminating on the same subject.

You had made plans to get lunch with your friends at your university’s dining hall, and you immediately booked it over to your usual table when you saw how crowded it already was.

“Hey guys,” you greeted tiredly, placing your bag on the floor and taking a seat next to Jungwon. He was munching on a carrot with an uncontrollable grin, earning a weird look from you. “What’s got you all excited?”

“Look who Heeseung invited to lunch,” Jungwon said instead of answering your question, gesturing a few chairs down by jutting out his chin.

And of course when you looked to see who he was talking about, you met Jake’s bashful gaze.

He was sandwiched closely between Heeseung and Niki with a lunch tray in front of him. Heeseung sat beside him, oblivious to everyone’s mischievous anticipation while Niki was practically bubbling over with excitement on Jake’s other side.

“This is Jake,” Heeseung introduced after taking a sip of bubble tea, not knowing that the two of you were already, shall we say, closely acquainted. “We met at the start of the semester. He was looking a little lonely so I figured he should start joining us for lunch. He just transferred all the way from Australia!”

Niki, who couldn’t contain his elation, blurted out: “Look Y/n! It’s the guy you kissed the other night!” As if you had no idea who Jake was. Niki grinned so widely that you could barely see his crinkled eyes.

This caught Heeseung’s attention, causing him to choke on the tapioca pearls he was chewing. “I’m sorry what!” he exclaimed after hitting his chest a few times, staring at Niki with wide eyes.

You squinted up at the ceiling, wondering if there were any gods, fairies, or wizards in the world that could teleport you out of this situation. And maybe get you some new friends.

“I know subtlety isn’t exactly your thing, Niki, but don’t make Jake uncomfortable,” you said with pleading eyes.

Jake, who was turning a little red at the attention, suddenly realised that he had been ambushed by your friends. “So that’s why you guys looked so happy to see me,” he mumbled to himself, the gears in his head turning. “And here I was, thinking you guys just wanted to be my friends.”

“Aw, we do want to be friends,” Sunghoon assured the newcomer to your group sympathetically. Honestly, he had only talked to Jake for fifteen minutes before you arrived and he already really liked the Aussie boy. He was charismatic and kind, laughing genuinely at all of Sunghoon’s lame jokes without judgement. “However, teasing our favourite friend Y/n comes above all else on our list of priorities.”

Nobody else realised it, but this was the first time that Jake heard anyone say your name. His eyes flitted over to where you were playfully scowling at Sunghoon, feeling his heartbeat quicken when you momentarily met his eyes.

“Y/n?” Jake asked, and you almost melted at the way your name rolled off his tongue. Your eyes widened at his sentimental tone, caught off-guard by your bodily reaction as pleasant chills went down your spine.

Jake thought you were beautiful.

“Hold up,” Heeseung ignored Sunghoon’s quip, holding both hands in the air. “Jake is the guy you kissed at the party?” Heeseung repeated, looking back and forth between you and Jake several times. “How exactly did I miss this?”

“It’s not like I live tweeted the event for everyone to see,” you reminded your friend, trying to get through the conversation without hiding under the table in embarrassment.

Taking notice of your slight discomfort, Jay spoke up. “It was a dare,” he explained, playing the kiss off as no big deal. “Besides, it was all in good fun, right? No need to keep obsessing over it.”

“Right,” Jake agreed, also becoming aware of the fact that you wanted the conversation to be over. “It’s all good,” he assured you, sending you a smile. “This seriously explains a lot. Even though I appreciated the enthusiasm, you guys were freaking me out a little,” he continued, taking the attention off of you.

The change of subject was so natural that nobody noticed it except you.

“We weren’t that bad,” Sunoo protested, lips pouting.

“You were pretty bad,” Jake insisted. “You giggled uncontrollably when Heeseung introduced me and I thought you were going to leap out of your chairs at any moment because of how excited you were.”

“Yeah, Niki totally blew it,” Jay agreed instantly, jokingly glaring at the youngest of your friend group.

“Hey,” Niki whined, eyebrows furrowing together. “Maybe I was a little excited, but it was Jungwon who kept making eye contact with me and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.”

“Maybe so!” Jungwon agreed. “And what about it? At least it was subtle!”

“It really wasn’t,” Jake laughed, wholly entertained by your friends’ bickering.

“It was subtle enough that Heeseung didn’t even notice,” Jungwon retorted with a smirk.

At this, you had to grin. “Like Heeseung counts,” you said with a giggle. “He’s too busy dreaming about Hana to actually pay attention to anyone around him!”

“Hey!” Heeseung exclaimed, shocked that he was the one being criticised all of a sudden. “I- Actually, you know what, that checks out,” he confessed, having the decency to look a little embarrassed.

Soon enough, the eight of you were eating your lunch and discussing mindless topics comfortably with one another. You were grateful that, even though your friends looked forward to teasing you about Jake, they were behaving normally enough that you could enjoy your lunch without feeling uncomfortable.

When you got up to put your tray away, Jake got to his feet and followed you. “So,” you said after building up the courage to make conversation. “Australia, huh?”

“Yeah,” Jake nodded. “It’s been a pretty big change, but I love it here. The campus is beautiful and it’s so nice to be in the middle of a big city.”

“Well, I’m glad you like it so far,” you smiled politely.

“You weren’t drunk, were you?” Jake asked suddenly, feeling awkward even bringing it up. “The other night?”

“No, I wasn’t,” you assured him. “I mean I had a few drinks but that’s not why I- Yeah.”

“Can I ask what happened? Jay mentioned a dare?”

“Yes. Um, basically, Heeseung and I had a little tipsy kiss a few weeks ago and then, like, ten days later he got back together with his ex-girlfriend Hana. Everyone kept acting like I was really upset over it and stuff, so they agreed to leave the subject alone if I can prove I’m over him,” you rambled on, feeling nervous about Jake’s close proximity to you.

“Oh,” Jake nodded in understanding. “So you like Heeseung?”

“No,” you shook your head. “I mean, I did for a few months, and I thought he liked me too. But I guess not,” you shrugged your shoulders. “It’s okay, though. It’s not a big deal, I’m over it, and we’re still friends.”

“I get it,” he said. “Thanks for explaining, you didn’t have to give that much detail so I’m glad you trusted me to tell me all that,” Jake smiled that perfect smile again, and you almost melted into a puddle on the floor.

“Listen, I’m really sorry my friends cornered you like that,” you apologised, embarrassed on behalf of your extra friends.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jake interrupted you, already predicting what you were going to say. “They seem nice and they clearly care about you a lot, so we’re all good. Are the two of us okay?” he wondered, taking your tray off your hands and clearing it for you. The moment your fingers brushed, you could feel the familiar tingle of butterflies in your stomach.

Startled at how easygoing he was, you could only nod. “We’re good,” you said quietly, overwhelmed by how much this boy was affecting you.

“Cool,” he beamed, stacking the empty trays and turning to face you. “So, what’s your major?” he wondered before rambling on about how he was figuring out if he wanted to double major in physics. All the while, you could only follow him, feeling yourself drawn to him as if you were magnets.

Soon enough, Jake was a regular member of your friend group and sat with you for lunch everyday. At first, Niki and Jungwon would tease the two of you whenever you sat next to or opposite each other at the lunch table, but after a week the novelty wore off. It didn’t take long before Jay was their new target, teasing him for his style or purposely making him angry for their own entertainment.

In a strange turn of events, Jake was actually starting to make the class you shared bearable. What you thought was going to be an awkward semester of avoiding him every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday turned into him saving you a seat and you lending him your notes.

“So,” Jake said on Wednesday, throwing his expensive bag carelessly onto the ground and taking the seat next to yours. You jumped at his arrival, almost knocking your laptop to the floor if it wasn’t for Jake’s quick reflexes. “Sorry, you alright?” He added, catching your eyes. When you nodded, he went on. “So, I was wondering if you wanted to go see a movie with me.”

“A movie?” you echoed, thinking it over. “Yeah, I could probably go tonight. What did you have in mind?”

“We could watch the new Doctor Strange movie,” Jake suggested, eyes sparkling at the idea. “Or the new Top Gun movie! But honestly, I’m pretty flexible so we can go see whatever you’re into,” he added.

You hummed, looking up movie times on your phone and finding a showing of Doctor Strange that would be perfect for your schedule. “How does 9pm sound?” you offered, showing him the mostly-empty theatre seats on your phone.

“Perfect!”

You selected seats close to the back and smiled, “This is going to be so much fun! The boys and I haven’t been to a movie in forever because our schedules never line up,” you explained, texting your group chat and sending a screenshot of the movie tickets you bought for everyone.

Jake paused. “What do you mean?” He asked, already dreading your answer.

“Since we all have such different majors, we always have exams at different times and our schedules don’t sync up. We missed the showings for Spider-Man No Way Home because of it! But luckily, all eight of us are free tonight so we can all go see Doctor Strange together!” You explained happily, watching all your friends reply in excitement to the group chat.

“Oh, so it’s like, a group activity,” Jake realised, frowning as he sulked in his seat. “Fun.”

“So fun!” you agreed, oblivious to his disappointment.

This obliviousness went on for several weeks, and Jake wasn’t sure if you genuinely had no idea he was pursuing you, or if you were just avoiding the subject. He decided to just be upfront about it.

“Y/n,” he called for your attention as the two of you lazed around under a tree on campus on a particularly sunny day. Your head was resting on his lap as you closed your eyes while Jake was stuck to his physics textbook. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” he asked, watching patiently as you processed his words and your eyes snapped open.

You sat up, leaning back on your elbows and glancing at him. “Are you serious?”

“I’m really tempted to say No I’m Jake but I’ll refrain,” he joked, earning a small smile from you. “I’m serious. I don’t know if you realise it, but I’ve been asking you on dates pretty regularly. You tend to just invite all of our friends to come with us, which makes it less of a date and more of, well, nothing.”

“Those were all dates?” you asked, genuinely startled by this piece of information.

“All of them,” Jake confirmed.

“Doctor Strange?”

“Yes, Doctor Strange.”

“The puppy café that day it rained?”

“Yup.”

“Studying in the library?”

“All four times I initiated it.”

“Movie night in the park?”

“I actually didn’t mind that you brought the guys since it was fun, but yes.”

“The concert?”

“How you even found six extra tickets is beyond me, but yes. The concert, too.”

“Oh,” was the clever line that you came up with at this realisation, and Jake practically swooned on the spot. How you couldn’t see he was absolutely enamoured by you was beyond him, but he was enjoying your confused expression too much to voice his thoughts. “I didn’t realise.”

“I know,” Jake laughed. “That’s why I figured I’d just tell you to your face this time.”

You hummed, nodding slowly, your brain still processing what was going on. “Good call.”

“I like to think so.”

“Can I think about it? Before I answer your question,” you wondered, wanting nothing more than to find Jay and ask him about what the hell you should do. More than being your emotional support best friend, Jay also had a much sturdier, mature head on his shoulders and always seemed to know what to do.

“Take all the time you want,” Jake assured you. I just hope you feel the same way.

When it was time for Jake’s afternoon class, the two of you parted ways. He went to go meet Jungwon for coffee before their lecture, and you headed to the library to make some sense of what your Professor had taught you that morning.

It was perfectly peaceful until the double doors of the library were flung open, banging loudly against the walls and making everyone in the library jump out of their seats.

When you spotted Niki racing over to your seat you hid your face in your hands, embarrassed. “Y/n!” you heard a frantic yell of your name, sinking into your seat to escape the numerous eyes on you.

You loved your friends, you really did, but they drew way too much attention to themselves for your taste. Especially your youngest friend Niki, who didn’t really understand the definition of discretion, and therefor never applied it to his behaviour.

“Dude,” you hissed, dragging him into the seat next to you with wide eyes. “This is the library,” you emphasised. “I know you don’t come here that much, but it’s pretty common knowledge that you’re supposed to be quiet when you’re in here.”

“Whatever,” Niki rolled his eyes, reluctantly lowering his voice. “I heard that Jake asked you out on a date! When are you going?”

“How the hell did you already hear about that?” you couldn’t help but wonder. “You know what, never mind. And for your information, I don’t even know if I’m going at all.”

“What do you mean you don’t know if you’re going?” Niki asked, deeply disappointed by your response. “You like Jake, Jake likes you. It’s simple maths!” he added with excessive hand gestures that you couldn’t quite make sense of.

“Jake’s not my type,” you lied, making Niki snort.

“Sure, then what is your type?” he challenged you, crossing his arms sassily to make a point.

“Bad boys,” you said the first thing that popped into your head. “Bad boys with motorcycles. You know the kind, long hair, beards, look like they only shower every couple weeks.”

“Gross, thanks for that mental image,” Niki grimaced. “This is just like your big fat crush on Heeseung all over again!”

“I did not have a big fat crush on Heeseung,” you corrected.

“Sure,” Niki replied in a disbelieving tone.

“Do you want me to have a crush on Heeseung?”

“No!”

“Good! Because I don’t. And I’m not going to let you pressure me into going on a date with Jake,” you said, turning back to your notes. “End of conversation.”

Niki snatched your notebook from the table before you could stop him, tossing it carelessly on the floor behind him. You exhaled through your nose, exasperation growing.

“Continuation of conversation. Look, I’m glad you’re not upset about Heeseung, but you must be feeling something now that Jake asked you out.” Niki was insistent.

“Why?” you asked. “Why does everyone want me to feel something for Jake?” You wondered, recalling the conversation you had with Jay only a few days after you kissed Jake at the party.

Your friend’s eyes softened, a small frown appearing on his face. “Because for a while there, it seemed like Heeseung liked you too,” he said quietly. “And he didn’t tell you a thing about getting back together with Hana, which was really mean of him. And we all just want you to be happy with someone nice, like Jake.”

“Okay,” you allowed, feeling your heart soften at the rare show of sincerity from Niki. “Maybe I have feelings for Jake. And maybe I considered agreeing to go on a date with him. But I don’t know if it’s a good idea, and I’m still thinking it over. Nothing’s off the table yet,” you promised Niki, wanting his sad, puppy-eyed expression to go away.

“You promise?”

“Yes,” you emphasised, smiling at Niki’s concern. “You’re very sweet, Niki, but I need to make up my own mind about this. Seriously.”

Niki shrugged, getting up to pick up your notebook. “If you say so,” he sang, passing the pages over to you and smiling. “Are you coming to the party tonight?”

“Yeah,” you told him, flipping your notebook back to the right page. “Sunghoon told me that he’s only going if I come, so, it’s my duty as the group introvert’s comfort friend.”

“Great, I’ll see you tonight,” Niki waved at you.

“Didn’t you come here to study?” you asked, taken aback by how quickly he wanted to leave.

“Nah, I just came to check on you,” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. After replying to a few texts, Niki smiled and sent you a one-handed finger gun before leaving the library.

You grinned at the sight of him tripping on his way out the door, not expecting to have received so much love from Niki of all people.

“I got a pretty concerning phone call from Niki this afternoon,” was what Jay greeted you with two hours later. The two of you had agreed to get something to eat before the party that evening and you texted him to be ready for you to talk his ear off.

“That can’t be good,” you replied, raising an eyebrow as you read the menu of the little pizza shop you decided to try for the first time.

Jay laughed, recounting how Niki had called him because he was worried about you and didn’t want you to feel like you were alone in this decision, and how he was concerned that you would mess things up between you and Jake forever. “You have to give him credit,” Jay mused. “He certainly knows how to dial up the dramatics.”

“No doubt about it,” you agreed readily, deciding on your pizza and letting Jay order for you. “Alright, go on.”

“What?” Jay asked, placing his napkin in his lap as you looked expectantly at him.

“Don’t you have anything to say?”

“Y/n my dear, you’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

“Seriously,” you whined, whacking him with your menu. “I want to know what you think about Jake asking me out.”

“Why does it matter?” Jay dismissed easily, acting like he was usually uninvolved in your major life decisions and hasn’t spent hours trying to convince you of his opinion in the past. There was a particularly harrowing incident in which you jokingly suggested that polka dots were making a comeback, and you still got chills thinking about how fashionista-Jay had annihilated you. “He didn’t ask me out, so why should you care what I say?”

“Oh come on,” you said, unconvinced that he was truly not going to share his thoughts with you. “Jay, you’re my best friend. Why are you sitting this one out?”

“Because I want you to make up your own mind,” he replied easily, unbothered by your protests.

“That’s the funny thing about having a best friend,” you began in a faux-excited tone, clasping your hands together on the table in front of you. “They’re supposed to know your mind better than anyone else! So, what’s the verdict? Yes I go out with Jake, or no I don’t? Let’s hear it.”

“Y/n,” Jay sang your name, unable to help the small chuckle that escaped him. “Why is it that you need my validation?” he wondered. Sure, you had asked him for advice on most of your other issues, but your love life was usually something you were very independent with. “You’re right, I am your best friend. That’s why I know that you need to make this decision yourself, and not let other people get in your head so much,” Jay declared, not wanting to make you feel like he was telling you off.

“I love you Jay, but I kind of want to hit you right now,” you sighed sadly, knowing he was completely right.

“I know, and I love you too,” Jay said, giving you his most sympathetic smile. “Do you want to split some cheesy garlic bread?”

“I think that would be wise,” you agreed, slumping in your seat and frowning at your predicament.

“Okay,” Jay nodded, flagging the waiter down as you lazily stirred the melting ice around your glass. “Listen, you’ve got this,” he encouraged, noticing how disheartened you had become at his declaration of neutrality. “We can still talk about it! I want to hear why you’re so desperate for someone to make this decision for you.”

“I don’t know,” you lied. When Jay scoffed, you rolled your eyes and decided that it wasn’t even worth it to lie to the one person who could see through your every falsehood. “Okay, fine. I want someone else to make this decision for me because I’m shit scared.”

“Everyone’s shit scared,” Jay retorted.

“Not Jake,” you reminded him. “Jake is kind of fearless. At least when it comes to this sort of thing. When we met for the first time after we kissed, he had no problem expressing his interest in me. He held my hand and offered to walk me to class, and it was just so overwhelming to see his pretty, puppy-dog eyes gazing down at me as if I was the answer to all his prayers.”

“That’s probably because you are the answer to all his prayers,” Jay laughed, thanking the waiter when he brought you the cheesy garlic bread. “Jake really likes you.”

“I like him too,” you allowed for more honesty. “And I want him to be my boyfriend.”

“I’m pretty sure he’d be into that too,” Jay teased you.

“Yeah,” you smiled to yourself. “I don’t know if I want to be his girlfriend, though,” you said cryptically, not knowing if you were making any sense. “Does that make sense?”

“Not to me,” Jay replied, blunt as always. “Doesn’t have to make sense to me though, I’m not dating Jake.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready to be someone’s girlfriend,” you tried to explain yourself. “I know that Jake’s going to be an amazing boyfriend, I have no idea if I’m going to be a decent girlfriend.”

“That’s the funny thing about dating,” Jay said, mocking your faux-excited tone from earlier, clasping his hands together just as you had. “You’re not technically anyone’s girlfriend yet. You’re just floating somewhere in the realm between friends and something more. You’ll figure out when you want to be his girlfriend together.”

“Oh,” you said under your breath, actually understanding what Jay was trying to say. “I guess you’re right.”

“Always the tone of surprise,” Jay murmured with an affectionate eye-roll.

After some gentle convincing, Sunghoon finally stepped into the party and awkwardly started bopping his head to the beat of the song blasting overhead. If you didn’t know him personally, you’d have no idea that Sunghoon had extensive dance training.

“Hey,” Heeseung greeted you happily, passing you a cup and pulling you into a side-hug. “I see you managed to get Sunghoon through the door,” he added, motioning in your friend’s direction with his head.

You grinned, taking a sip from the cup and finding your favourite drink inside. “It’s my specialty,” you joked. “Where’s Hana?”

“Oh, she’s probably around here somewhere,” Heeseung casually waved your words off. “Finding someone to dance with, I’m sure,” he added.

You frowned. “What? Did something happen between you guys?” you wondered, concerned at the way Heeseung’s joy seemed to be slowly drained from his body.

“We broke up,” Heeseung explained, pausing awkwardly before adding, “Again. Actually, she broke up with me because I’m too clingy or something like that? I don’t know, I kind of disassociated from that conversation after she began recounting all the times I was unbearable.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said, pulling your friend into a proper hug and gently patting his back. “For what it’s worth, you’re really awesome and definitely too good for her,” you added, wanting to encourage your friend when he seemed so upset.

“Thanks,” Heeseung mumbled, gently pulling away and sighing. “That’s enough about me. So,” he dragged the word out. “I heard something just a couple minutes ago that I thought was interesting,” Heeseung mentioned, grinning knowingly.

“Don’t even mention who I think you’re going to mention,” you warned, knowing that this was about Jake asking you on a date. You had received several pointed texts from Jungwon and Sunoo already, and you weren’t sure if you could hear it anymore. “I’ve already had enough from the others.”

“Alright, fine,” Heeseung chuckled, finishing his drink off with a smirk. “Actually, since we’re both chatting, I wanted to apologise to you,” he added, leading you to a slightly quieter area of the living room where the music wasn’t reaching as loudly.

“Apologise for what?” You wondered. You and Heeseung had always been good friends, but you weren’t particularly close recently.

Heeseung’s expression turned embarrassed as he carefully avoided your eyes by glancing down at his shoes. “Kissing you and getting back together with my ex a couple weeks later?” He phrased it like a question, voice lilting at the end of his sentence.

“Heeseung,” you started but were quickly halted.

“No, I need to do this,” Heeseung maintained. “I never acknowledged how much that sucks, and I’m sorry that I even put you in that position in the first place. I thought that you had a crush on me back then, and even if it’s not true it was wrong of me to exploit that. Especially since we’re friends. So, yeah, I’m really sorry, Y/n,” he said, finally having the nerve to meet your eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” you assured him, flicking his bicep with a grin. “I forgive you. That feels like forever ago, anyway.”

“Maybe it was forever ago, but it was still wrong,” he replied with a shrug, gently flicking your arm back.

“That’s okay, I’m over it,” you promised.

“So we’re good?”

“We’re excellent, Heeseung.”

“Great,” he beamed at your assurance, pleased that the two of you could go back to normal. “Since we’re good… Don’t be mad but I really do have to ask what’s going on with you and Jake,” Heeseung pleaded, inadequate at holding back his curiosity.

You groaned, “Nothing is going on with us! Absolutely nothing.”

“Why not?” Heeseung whined. “The two of you are great together, and he clearly likes you, so I don’t really get why you’re not together.”

“How can we ever be together? He’s perfect,” you exclaimed, the mere mention of Jake already lighting your skin on fire as your face warmed.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong I really like him and I’m glad I brought him into the friend group,” Heeseung said, smiling at the thought of meeting Jake for the first time. “But he’s not perfect.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re not in love with him,” you waved him off.

“So you are then?”

“What?”

“In love with him.”

You blinked, “Did I say that out loud?”

Heeseung smirked, “Loud and clear,” he confirmed with a wink, knowing you had been caught.

“Shit. Well I guess I can’t take it back at this point,” you shrugged, earning a booming laugh from your friend.

“Let’s just say he’s perfect, for argument’s sake,” Heeseung began, thoughtfully. “Why should that mean that you can’t be together?”

“Because pretty soon he’s going to realise that I’m not perfect, and I don’t want to be there when the illusion that he has of me is shattered,” you confessed, something that you had been too shy to even tell Jay. Perhaps the alcohol was helping you a little, or perhaps you felt like you had closure with Heeseung and could finally confide in him like you used to. “Once the novelty of our little flirtation wears off he’s going to realise that he doesn’t actually like me.”

“You know what, I think he might surprise you,” Heeseung argued.

“What makes you say that?”

“Because people always surprise you, it’s kind of in their nature,” he shrugged.

“Damn, you’re wise when you’re tipsy,” you mumbled in surprised, a little moved by his comment.

“Damn straight, it’s why I kissed you,” Heeseung joked, earning a hard slap in the shoulder. “Ow!” he exclaimed, clutching the spot where you struck him. “On that note, I’m gonna get out of here because I think Hana’s about to start making out with my Chem Lab partner. Give me a call if you need someone to talk to,” he excused himself, eyes narrowing to a corner of the room that was just out of sight for you.

“Thanks, ‘Seung, you too,” you said your goodbyes, deciding to go check on your friend group’s resident introvert to make sure he hadn’t run away.

Once you were sure Sunghoon wasn’t going to book it out of the party, leaving him with Niki and Sunoo to hype him up, you stepped outside to get some air. As you tucked your hands into your jacket pockets and scanned the area, you noticed an unusual sight that clashed with your worldview.

“What is that?” you asked, spotting Jake on the sidewalk near the house the party was hosted in.

He grinned. “A motorcycle,” he explained, leaning against the vehicle, looking impossibly cool.

Somehow, the image of him with the motorcycle was a complete juxtaposition; even though he looked the part with his black leather jacket and thick, leather boots, you couldn’t get the image of Jake wearing a fuzzy teddybear sweater to class out of your head. Sweet, bubbly Jake riding a motorcycle? Even now, you couldn’t imagine it.

You laughed. “I know it’s a motorcycle, what are you doing standing next to it?”

Jake shrugged. “It’s my motorcycle.”

“Shut up,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Why?!”

“That is not your motorcycle,” you denied.

“Yes it is, actually.”

“When did you get a motorcycle?” you asked, more laughter bubbling out at the incredulous image of Jake buying a motorcycle. You knew he was rich but dropping cash on a motorcycle when he had previously never expressed any interest in one? That was too much, even for Jake.

“When Niki said that bad boys are your type,” he joked, picking up a helmet.

You paused, remembering the terrible, unconvincing excuse you had given Niki earlier that day in the library. “That’s not funny.”

“I mean it!” Jake insisted. “What you said really woke me up, I figured that it’s time to step out of my comfort zone and try something new.”

“Really?”

“No, it’s my friend from class’s motorcycle, I’m just keeping an eye on it while he picks up his girlfriend from the party,” Jake admitted, a large grin growing on his face once he realised you were starting to believe him.

“I knew it!” you exclaimed, pointing at him and sniggering.

“Is it really so crazy to imagine me on a motorcycle?” Jake wondered, pouting slightly at the thought of you not thinking he was attractive enough to pull off the bad boy vibe.

“No, it’s not crazy at all,” you admitted. “I guess I just didn’t really think it sounded like you. When I picture you, I picture you in a soft sweatshirt, not riding a vehicle that goes 300 kilometres an hour.”

“Aw, so you think about me often, then,” Jake teased, stepping away from the motorcycle to lean closer to you, just over the fence that surrounded the house. “And I shouldn’t change to better fit your type?”

“Of course I wouldn’t want you to change,” you said softly, meaning every word.

The teasing glint in his eyes was replaced with something gentler as Jake cleared his throat, averting his gaze with reddening cheeks. “Good to know,” he mumbled.

Now it was your turn to tease him. “I see how it is,” you began, grinning. “You can dish it out but once the attention is back on you, you retreat so quickly,” you joke, taking your hands out of your pockets and resting them on the wooden fence. “Like I said, you definitely aren’t a bad boy,” you added, leaning in closer.

“And bad boys definitely aren’t your type,” Jake countered, raising an eyebrow and trying to hide the pink flush on his cheeks.

“Maybe not,” you agreed, loving the way he looked when he was flustered.

“God, I had no idea this is what you were going to be like when I first saw you,” Jake laughed. “So forward out of nowhere.”

“Me walking right up to you and asking for a kiss didn’t tip you off?” You wondered with a chuckle.

“Ah,” Jake held a finger up to stop you. “But that’s not the first time I saw you,” he retorted.

“What do you mean? That’s the first time we ever talked.”

“Yeah, but I had already noticed you before,” he confessed for the first time. “We have that class together three times a week. I noticed you and thought you were really pretty and smart for, like, six weeks before you ever talked to me at that party,” Jake admitted to your great surprise.

“Are you being serious right now?” you wondered, eyes widening. “You’re not just messing with me?”

Jake shook his head. “I met Heeseung in a different class and he noticed that I seemed to have my attention on you when we crossed paths, so he invited me to that party so that he could introduce us,” he admitted, revealing the real reason he came to that party the night you met.

“Wait, Heeseung knew that you liked me?”

“He sure did,” Jake confirmed. “And in the end, he didn’t even have to introduce us. Because what do I know, the moment I walk through the door, there you were. And you were asking me to kiss you, without knowing that I couldn’t possibly refuse you.”

“That’s what he meant when he said you might surprise me,” you realised, finally understanding why Heeseung suddenly seemed so wise and knowledgable tonight. “He knew that you liked me before anybody else did.”

“Exactly,” Jake nodded, and the satisfied grin on his face made you want to kiss him.

“Let’s go out,” you decided on the spot, wanting nothing more than to spend every second with the man in front of you.

His eyes widened. “Yeah?” he exclaimed, startled by your sudden declaration.

“Yeah. Tomorrow, the day after, next week– let’s go out.”

“I think I’m free,” Jake agreed. “And if not, I’ll clear my schedule.”

“Oh really?” you laughed, taking the lapels of his leather jacket in your hands, just like you had the first time you kissed him. “Even your plans to go motorcycle shopping?”

“I’ll just take you with me,” Jake replied easily, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “So you admit, I’d look cool on a motorcycle?”

“What can I say? I guess bad boys are just my type,” you winked, letting Jake pull you in for a kiss.

note: this literally took me forever to finish because i kept losing motivation, but i hope that you enjoyed this fic! this is the last fic i’m posting before i go on a writing hiatus but i will be back with more fics in september 💜

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soobnny · 1 year

Text

they told me to — park sunghoon. best friends to lovers. drunken confessions. just pure fluff.

synopsis. sunghoon has a lot of things he wants to say to you, and it takes a couple drinks and a messy trip back home to finally say them (1.7k words)

note. this isn’t the most poetic, metaphorical thing i’ve written! just a cute and short oneshot if you fancy a quick read :) the only warning in this is that alcohol is mentioned

None of this was supposed to happen.

You were supposed to just take him home, as per request from Heeseung, who had staggered off into the night with an emergency. No, you weren’t supposed to be seated with a very drunk Sunghoon who had somehow managed to convince you to make a quick stop at an empty bus stop.

Even drunk, he had his way with words. Great.

The initial excitement of finally being able to witness what Sunghoon was like drunk faded away the moment he refused to budge when you tried to get him to stand and continue your trek back home. Why did he have to be so much taller than you? And why did you decide it’d be better to walk him home than take a cab? Only God would know.

“Get up, come on. It’s getting really late, and I don’t wanna get lost on my way back home from dropping you off.”

He was unusually quiet. In a sense that, if it was sober Sunghoon with you right now, he’d have fired back with some snarky remark. But at the moment, it was just silence.

Just you, him, and the moon.

You sighed, hands on your hips as you stood in front of his slouched body. “Didn’t think you’d be the lazy, slouched type of drunk. I always thought you’d be…. I don’t know, anything but.”

In another attempt to get him up, you grabbed onto his arm and yanked. “Hee owes me so much for this.” You mumbled to yourself, dropping his arm as you walked around the small bus stop. Looking behind your shoulder, you freeze once you realize he’s been staring at you. No part in particular, just you. You could only hope the bus stop light was dim enough to cover the blush that was coating your cheeks.

“Sit with me for a moment, you look like an idiot standing there.”

You blink at him, still standing meters away. His first words of the night, and he says that. You rolled your eyes before walking back over to where he was seated, dusting off the empty seat beside him.

And you weren’t looking for a second. A second. It had happened way too quickly, that after it happened, you were left seated there with your mouth agape and your eyes wide.

Did he just kiss you?

“Did you— Did that just… happen?” Your voice was nothing but a whisper. Sunghoon threw his head back in response, mumbling a quiet ‘they told me to do it’.

There was no doubt your face was as red as it could be. You shake your head, letting out a big breath before standing back up, determined to just forget about it. He’s drunk, and you really need to get him home. You look back at him to tell him that you two seriously needed to head back, but the words get caught in your throat once your eyes meet his.

There he was again, staring. With droopy eyes, and a barely noticeable dopey smile.

“You’re drunk, you’re so drunk.” You say to yourself more than to anyone else. Almost as if you were reminding yourself that he was probably way out of his head when he decided to kiss you. All of this was making your head spin, it was supposed to be a simple task, you were just supposed to drop him home.

And suddenly, his tall figure is looming over you. “Okay, I’m ready to go home.”

All you could do was nod at him before slowly walking away from the bus stop and to the direction of his home. The two of you probably didn’t even make it 50 steps before he decided to speak up again.

“I lied.”

Your eyebrows raised, looking at him with a questioning look.

“Nobody told me to do it, but I really wanted to.”

And just like that, your heart was speeding like crazy, and another headache was on its way.

“Stop playing with me, Sunghoon. You’re just drunk.” You stated, as a matter of fact. “So maybe I’m a little drunk, but I’d still kiss you even if I wasn’t.”

“Just really drunk.” You repeated a little louder than before, a nervous laugh escaping your lips as if trying to play it off as a joke. Your racing heart would say different, but he didn’t have to know.

“And I’d do it again, but only if you’ll let me.” His voice was wavering, eyes fixated at you. You’d never seen Sunghoon like this, wide eyed and almost… hopeful.

And maybe, just maybe the effort of carrying him to the bus stop a while ago was all worth it. But then again, you remind yourself, this is Sunghoon you’re talking about.

He was never hopeful.

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“You hugged me the day I won nationals, and sometimes that’s all I think about.”

You laughed at the idea he was implying. The boy who had spewed nothing but relentless teasing to you was now trying to say things far from what teasing’s supposed to be. A mile away from teasing. And in its own little way, it was almost endearing.

He’s standing now by the streetlight of his house. Just pausing, waiting for an answer. It’s obnoxiously quiet and your hands are sweaty despite the cold night air.

“A year and I never said anything. It’s cause I figured you felt annoyed by me. I mean… that’s also my fault, I made no effort in really telling you how I feel. But how could I, you know? I did try to show you. I really did. I hope you noticed, like… like remember when you got sick and Jake gave you notes on what you missed out on? That was me! I just told him to give it to you because I got embarrassed.”

There’s silence when he wills himself to look you in the eyes, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the sudden confession.

“Hey— could you say something?” You could tell he was getting a bit irritated at your lack of response. He didn’t even necessarily want an answer to his confession, he just didn’t like that you were quiet.

Sunghoon likes hearing your voice.

“I’m sorry, I’m just—“

“It’s okay, I’ll forgive you.” He didn’t even let you finish. The irritated look long gone and now replaced with a smirk, or at least what seemed like the poor excuse of a teasing expression. “But only if you let me kiss you.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to kiss you when you’re obviously drunk.”

He’s melodramatic.

Sunghoon is whining and pouting and grabbing at your arm at your rejection. “Sober words are drunk thoughts! Drunk… wait. Sober thoughts are drunk thoughts? You know what I’m trying to say.”

“Do I really know what you’re trying to say?”

“Are you teasing me?” Sunghoon looks offended, as if he’s just been defeated in his own game.

“I’m not!”

“Then, why won’t you kiss me?” His hand that was previously holding onto your arm falls to make contact with your own hand.

“Are my lips not kissable?” Sunghoon’s free hand immediately hovers over his lips, pinching them slightly before dropping down in defeat.

“I’d kiss you if you were sober.”

“Wait, really?”

You tell yourself he won’t remember this in the morning, so you continue. “Yes, but you're piss drunk and I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

This would’ve been the perfect time to act on your feelings, to kiss the boy you’ve been crushing on for years with the reassurance that he’s not gonna remember anything. But, you’d never take advantage of anyone who didn’t have their full conscious state of mind. Regardless of your feelings or not. You weren’t like that.

“I’m sober.” Sunghoon answers before you can even finish your sentence. “I can prove it. I can walk in a straight line.”

He lets go of your hand, determined. With a pointed face looking straight ahead, Sunghoon takes a step. Then another. And then he’s off to the ground.

“Wait! Let me try again!” He’s defensive with his tone, stubbornly trying to get back up despite having a hard time in doing so. “Sunghoon, I need to get you home.”

He decides then and there to plant himself on the ground, refusing to budge. His lips are pursed as he tries to think of a negotiation.

“A peck then? That’s not a full kiss so you don’t have to feel bad! I know you don’t wanna kiss me because I’m way out of it. I was the same when I took care of your drunk ass a month ago.” He mutters the last part to himself, but you hear it clearly.

You’re embarrassed to think something similar happened last month, but with a switch of positions.

And you think he’s never gonna move from his position from the ground if he doesn’t receive a kiss tonight. A little peck won’t hurt, and you would be honest with him in the morning when he asks what happened.

The tired state of your brain dictates your answer, but by the time you’d come to your little conclusion, Sunghoon is already up from the ground and halfway to a kiss, just hovering, waiting for you to do something.

And you finally allow yourself to finish the kiss. It was quick, and you drew back almost immediately, hands on his arms while he tried to balance himself up on the streetlamp. “Wow.” He whispers out in a sigh.

“I better fucking remember this.” His hands stay on your cheeks, bumping his forehead against yours before giggling to himself. “Make sure I don’t forget this.” He mutters, patting your head. “Please.”

“Let’s get you home.” You sigh, a small fond smile on your lips as you drag him to walk the few final steps back to his home.

He taps the pockets of his hoodie as if to tell you the keys to his house were in there, and although nobody would look into something as small as that, your heart couldn’t help but skip a beat at the fact that he’s allowing you to take care of him (even if it meant the simple task of letting him into his house).

Sunghoon’s never been the type to allow anyone to take care of him.

“I’m gonna get going, okay?” You tell him after he had settled himself on his couch and drank the glasses of water you had offered. He nods his head gently before he’s reminded of something.

Before you can walk out his front door, he calls out for you. “We kissed, right? Don’t forget to tell me tomorrow. Or, you can help me type it into my notes so I won’t forget.”

You laugh quietly to yourself as he struggles to unlock his phone, trying to find his notes app before stretching his phone out to you. “I’ll just tell you tomorrow.”

“That must mean you like me too?” When you nod your head shyly at him, his face physically breaks out into the biggest smile you’ve ever seen him crack.

“Okay, that’s good. Get home safe pretty.”

You close the door behind you, finally allowing yourself to let out the biggest smile you could ever muster.

You make sure to text Heeseung a quick ‘thank you’ for calling you to bring Sunghoon home.

#ficscafe #kflixnet #enhypen x reader #park sunghoon oneshot #enhypen sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fluff #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x y/n #sunghoon x reader oneshot #sunghoon scenario #fluff #park sunghoon #sunghoon fanfic #best friends to lovers #enhypen x reader oneshot

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ericsprincess · 11 months

Text

checkmate

You catch your brother's annoying best friend doing something in your room.

~~~

“....oh, and by the way, Sunwoo is coming over tonight to watch a movie,”

You stop mid-folding a t-shirt and look at your brother in disbelief. He can’t be for real, you think. This is like the third time just this week.

“This is like the third time just this week,” you frown at your brother that’s standing in the doorway to your bedroom. “Doesn’t he have his own place and his own roommates to annoy?”

“Yeah, but his roommates are working on some school project, so he doesn’t want to distract and annoy them much, until they finish it,” your brother shrugs.

“So, he’s just coming here all the time to annoy us?” you groan and throw the semi-folded t-shirt on the pile.

“Well, he’s not annoying me. Come on, sis, he’s not that bad. He really likes you actually, you’re just so mean to him all the time,” pleads your brother.

“Are we talking about the same Sunwoo?” you ask. “He literally just asks me the most dumb questions all the time and does things to spite me.”

“Yeah but that’s how Sunwoo shows his affection,” your brother laughs.

“By the greasiest overacted flirting?”

“Basically. If you saw beyond his overdone fuckboy persona you would see he’s actually really nice. He’s just playing it up in front of you, because he wants your reaction and attention,” smiles your brother. He seems to find this whole situation amusing, and this annoys you even more.

“I find it really hard to believe it,” you frown. “But okay, he can come, but it’s your responsibility to keep him on the leash, understood?”

“Sure thing, sis,” he shoots you finger guns. “Gotta run to school, see ya!”

“Bye..” you sigh. You really, really love your brother, but when you agreed for him to move into your spare bedroom to save up on his university costs, this is not how you imagined it. You did not expect to sign up for a 2 in 1 package, that is your brother and his annoying raccoon of a best friend, that is now the bane of your existence. The worst thing is, that Sunwoo is not even doing anything actually bad, he’s just being annoying and you never know how to react to his teasing.

You hold up one last sock, and it’s without the pair. Seems like a deja vu, that something is missing. Great, lately it seems that the laundry machine is taking way too many sacrifices.

~~~

This is already a long day and it seems that it will never end. You left for work and now you’re sitting there, mindlessly typing on your computer and pretending to work. You want to go home so badly, but you’re not even looking forward to that much now, that you’ll have a visitor.

I’ll just get food and stay in my bedroom, you think. But usually, that doesn’t deter Sunwoo from going to bother you under the pretense of “saying hi”. He’d just knock once and open the door without waiting for a reply, as if everything belonged to him. Maybe I should just lock the door.

DING! Your thoughts get interrupted by your phone announcing you just got a message. DING DING!

bro

>hey sis

>btw

>i need to stay late in school because something came up

>so i just told sunwoo the door code and he’ll let himself in

>just so that you’re not surprised he’s already there

>gotta go, love you byeee

>also dont kill him pls lol

you

>oh for fuck’s sake

You groan. This can’t be real.

~~~

Ugh, finally home. You angrily punch the door code and wait for the door to unlock. Immediately you kick off your shoes, fling a laptop bag away and mentally brace for greeting the awaited intruder that should be already there.

You march into the living room, already pre-pissed off but - there is no one there. No one laying on the couch in sneakers, spilling crumbs of your snacks between the seats. No one playing the console, yelling at the game. No one drinking a beer, putting it on the table without a coaster and loudly burping. Suspicious.

Maybe he bailed, you think and your mood is already getting brighter. So you just decide to go to your room to chill. You open the door and -

“What the fuck are you doing?!” you shriek. You’re standing in the doorway, stunned, looking at Sunwoo, who’s frozen like a deer in the headlights. As he should be, since he’s absolutely not supposed to be in your room, the one single place in your apartment he’s banished from.

And what he’s totally absolutely not supposed to be, is standing over your opened laundry hamper, with half of its content thrown outside of it.

“N-nothing,” he stutters and awkwardly steps away from the little mess of clothes. Interesting. This is the first time you’ve seen Sunwoo without his confidence and cockiness. His face is getting red and he’s looking genuinely nervous.

“Nothing my ass. What are you doing in my room?” you push.

“Nothing, really, I was not doing anything,” he anxiously shakes his head and takes a step back. You suddenly catch a glimpse of something familiar.

“What’s in your hand?” you ask, but before he can even try denying having anything, you step forward and snatch the item he’s squeezing in his sweaty palm. You immediately recognize it.

“Kim Sunwoo.” you growl threateningly.

“Y-yes?”

“Kim Sunwoo. So not only you impose all the time, not only you steal my food and make a mess. You even dare to go to my room? And steal my fucking panties?? AND THEN LIE ABOUT IT?” you’re furious.

“I-i am really sorry, Y/N, please don’t kill me! Or-, or, please don’t tell Y/B/N about it,” he pleads, with big eyes and face red from embarrassment. This is not how you usually see him and you’re finding out that you’re quite liking it. He’s actually kinda cute when he looks all helpless and caught off guard. Your anger is quickly getting replaced by mischief and you decide in a split second that you’re going to have fun with it.

“Why shouldn’t I?” you raise your eyebrow. “Why shouldn’t I tell my brother that I caught his best friend stealing my panties? What are you even stealing them for?” You have a hunch, but it will be more fun to pry this out of him.

“I…I just…I just wanted them..” he takes a step back. You take one step forward.

“Why?”

“Because…” Sunwoo looks like all he wants is for the ground to open and to swallow him whole so he doesn't have to be confronted. “...because they smell of you..” he whispers. He has nowhere to step back to, his back is touching your dresser.

You’re so close to him your chest is barely touching him. You can feel his fast breathing and heart pounding. He’s much taller than you, but you are the one in charge in this situation and you’re almost drunk off the feeling. Especially, since it’s Kim Sunwoo, the bane of your existence, for the past few months.

“So you’re really a pervert, aren’t you?”

“N-no I swear I’m not!” he rushes to deny, but you can just somehow tell it’s not quite like that.

“I can feel your boner. Kim Sunwoo, you even like this, don’t you? Do you find it hot that you’ve been busted?” you accuse him. “Oh geez, my brother will be really devastated to hear that his best friend not only is a pervert, but also gets off on it.”

“Y/N, please, don’t tell him, I- I will do whatever you want! I will behave from now on, I swear!” he pleads. “I’ll return all of the other ones too, I promise!”

“Other ones?” you’re in disbelief. You probably shouldn’t feel this way, but you’re finding it really hot that this pest which kept annoying you for a long time, is secretly so attracted to you that he resolved to steal your panties to sniff and masturbate to. It’s so disgusting and yet you’re getting wet at the mere mental image of Sunwoo holding your used panties to his face while jerking off frantically.

“So here’s the deal,” you start. “In the exchange for my silence, you’ll do whatever I want for three months, okay?”

“Okay, okay, deal, thank you,” he nods desperately. He’s looking all pathetic, with a red face, almost watering eyes and with a boner tenting his pants. You’re so wet and it gives you the worst idea.

“We can start now,” you step away from him and lie down on your bed, bending your legs at the knees, feet at the edge of the bed, your skirt falling back, exposing your legs and underwear.

Sunwoo looks frozen.

“Come here,” you scoff and he snaps out of it and rushes to you. He kneels on the ground in front of your bed and hesitantly reaches out, but it’s like he’s not actually sure if he can touch you.

You roll your eyes and pull off your panties yourself. “What are you waiting for? A written invitation?”

“Sorry, sorry,” he hurries with an apology and puts his face between your legs immediately. He starts eating you out eagerly, whispering “Thank you, thank you”.

He’s surprisingly not bad at it. He doesn’t seem to be too experienced, but what he lacks in experience, makes up for in enthusiasm. It’s almost like he’s making out with your pussy.

He’s slowly licking over your folds, gently sucking on your clit, his tongue is hot, wet and feels so good. He’s slowly building up the intensity and it feels so good, you can’t help but moan a little, even though you’re really trying not to.

Sunwoo looks like he’s enjoying himself too, with one of his hands rubbing over his clothed cock, and you have half a mind to mock him for it, if only making a coherent sentence wouldn't be so difficult right now.

You’re getting close, with his tongue flicking over your clit, but you decide you don’t want to come like that. You grab him by his hair and tear his head away from your pussy. He whines about it and makes an attempt to get back to licking you, but you’re holding him too firmly. He must be in pain, but he doesn’t seem to care about that.

“Come up and fuck me, before I kick you out,” you let his hair go. He seems surprised, but not wanting to anger you further, he quickly takes off his pants and underwear, while you move up higher on the bed. He joins you on the bed and you’re not wasting time, grabbing his hard cock and pulling him close to you. He whimpers in pain, but complies immediately and pushes inside your pussy. He’s hovering on top of you and it seems like he’s not daring to move yet. Actually, his face is getting closer and all of the alarms in your head start ringing.

Oh shit, you wonder, he wants to kiss me. Your hand quickly flies up and you grab him by his jaw to stop him. You blindly pat with your other hand on the bed quickly, until you find what you’re looking for - your discarded panties. You ball them up and stuff them into his mouth.

“Don’t get stupid ideas, Sunwoo,” you say. “If you want more of the taste, this is the only thing you’re going to get now.” you warn him and to get him to move you slightly kick him with your heel.

He gets the hint and starts fucking you immediately, already with a fast tempo. It’s clear neither of you is going to last long. But you have to admit he feels really good. It’s just a passing thought, as you are staring at his blushed face, with your panties stuffed into his mouth and his eyes glossy, but you already know you’re going to make the most out of this “deal”. The thought of having Sunwoo as your plaything for three months is so arousing, that it’s what gets you to come, while he’s fucking into you.

Your squirming and moaning is so strong, you almost throw him off yourself, but he has enough presence of mind to hold you tightly, while he fucks into you fast and hard. Not before long he’s cumming into you, eyes close and whimpering. You can feel his cock pulsate in you and you squeeze him closer to you with your legs, so you can feel it even better.

He spits out the panties and snuggles a little into your neck as he’s catching his breath and you graciously give him a few seconds of this before you’re kicking him off you.

You’re both a mess - half-undressed, sweaty and disheveled. You throw him his clothes. “Put it back on.” He does and just awkwardly stands, obviously not sure what to do now.

“We’re done here…for now. You should go to the living room to wait for my brother and I really hope I won’t see or hear you anymore tonight, so you better behave. And if I catch you in my room again, the deal is off and I’m telling everything, understood?” you threaten.

He nods and hesitantly goes to leave. He’s actually really cute, when he’s all obedient, you wonder. It melts your heart a tiny bit. You probably shouldn’t like it so much.

“Hey Sunwoo?” you call after him. He turns back.

“Y-Yes?”

“You forgot something,” you smirk and throw your panties at him. He catches them and looks at you, confused.

“Put them into good use, until I see you next time, would you?”

He looks completely embarrassed, but nonetheless he stuffs the panties into his pocket and literally runs out of your room, while you laugh at him.

Best deal of my life, you think and head to the shower.

918 notes · View notes

joheunsaram · 2 years

Text

pretty hallucinations (jjk)

summary: Drunk words are sober thoughts, and now Jungkook knows all of yours — even the ones about him. And you know what they say, once a secret’s out, it’s hard to take it back.

word count- 3.9k

pairing- best friend!Jungkook x Reader

rating- PG 15

genre- f2l, idiots in love, fluff, slight angst, slight crack

warnings- reader is wasted, jungkook is a softie, SO MUCH PINING, mention of bondage and spreader bars lmfao

a.n- a birthday fic to celebrate my favourite bunny! happy birthday jk! this fic came to me after I read a scene in ten trends to seduce your best friend that had me cackling. read that book if you enjoyed this, that ones a real f2l slow burn hehe

special s/o to @daechwitatamic for beta reading, helping with the summary, and leaving the most hilarious comments on my doc haha I will cherish them forever💕

As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌

The room was spinning. A kaleidoscope of colours twirling in the air and you couldn’t help the bitterness rising through you. This used to be your favourite place, a library you had created after years of collecting your favourite words. Systematically organized, it seemed now that a hurricane had passed through.

Well, after ten drinks, you were nothing less than a hurricane. Books with their once perfect spines laid dog-eared and haphazard. You couldn’t find it. Couldn’t find the perfect words for the moment. There was always supposed to be something for every emotion in your collection.

Some may think losing yourself in fictional words was cowardice, but to you it was a reprieve. Reality was boring. In the real world you were just a nerdy overgrown virgin who would never confess your feelings to a man — to the man. In reality, you would always be the girl who talked big about sex and hid behind bravado instead of ever opening yourself up to the vulnerability that came with it. The real you was a phony.

Stumbling with your fingers wrapped around the bottle of whiskey, you meandered to the opposite wall, pulling romance novels off the shelves. They would have answers for your predicament. Wasn’t that the purpose of them? To show how the characters overcame their fears?

The words blurred but you lost yourself. You were Catherine sharing your love but having it misconstrued, leaving you to misery, a death of a life never fully lived. As you read Heathcliff’s grief, daring you to haunt him, he transformed from the Englishman to someone too familiar, his proper attire morphing to the comfortable baggy black shirts and giant stomping boots. His dark eyebrow manifested a silver barbell, his eyes widening into a doe-eyed stare. Ebony tendrils grew from his fingertips, running up his right arm until they formed shapes as intimate as your breaths. Tiger lillies and eclipses and snakes and clocks and words so dear they played as a melody on your lips.

And then Jungkook’s words transformed from the enraged howling of ghosts to silence, his lips parted in shock as his eyes looked at you with pity. The memory was visceral and it forced your hand to tip the bottle against your lips, your tongue coating in the warm bite of liquor. Yet, it permeated through, the single moment of bravery you had been saving your whole life coming back to haunt you.

He had a friendly arm around you, the two of you laughing at the television screen as the characters finally confessed and Jungkook shook his head, chastising them for not coming clean sooner and saving him the trouble. The innocuous words gave you the courage to share a secret ten years in the making.

A simple I like you.

But unlike the characters who were living their happily ever after, Jungkook sputtered, moving away with an awkward laugh, shattering your heart into a million pieces. The distance was a chasm growing wide with his questions and the lifetime of bravery fizzled much quicker than you anticipated.

“I should’ve never opened my stupid mouth,” you lamented, tossing back another searing gulp, books digging into your back as you stared at nothing. Nothing that spurred into a familiar shadow making you cackle at your imagination. It really was better than reality.

Because in your imagination, Jungkook crouched in front of you smelling like fresh laundry that made you hazy. His fingers caressed your face, moving the curls that had spilled from their usual tight bun atop your head to frame your face. But even an imaginary Jungkook wouldn’t give you your happy ending.

Moving your hair away, he smiled, helping you up. His voice was gravelly when he spoke, a novel rasp that you wanted to pluck from the air and store it next to your array of books.

“Your mouth is not stupid,” he chuckled, an arm around your waist as he moved you from the library to the kitchen. You refused to look at this hallucination, instead focusing on the tiles that you had handpicked for the kitchen. Small white ones. They had a pattern in the middle, cobalt outlines of squares interwoven together to form stars of the skies.

He deposited you on the stool next to the breakfast nook and placed a glass in front of you. Condensation trickled down the glass to the island and before your clumsy hands could do any damage, your figment picked the glass and placed it on a coaster. Of course he knew what to do, imaginary men were perfect.

“I’m not imaginary, Trix,” Jungkook answered your inner monologue, amusement lacing his tone. But his mirth did not placate you, there was no way Jungkook would seek you out after he stomped on your heart. Your best friend was not that cruel. Not intentionally at least.

“Trix are for kids! Don’t call me that,” you whined, your words mumbled by the glass that he held to your lips. With the coldest glare you could manage, you stared at him as you finished the drink, refusing to acknowledge how soothing the cool water felt trickling down your throat.

“But they’re your favourite, Trix,” he retorted, bemused before running a hand over your head. You wanted to chastise your heart for skipping a beat at the platonic touch as he mussed your hair but you couldn’t help it. This always happened. You hated that he used that nickname, an inside joke that did nothing other than give you false hope. It was cute when he started. It made you flush to your toes and stutter over your words, but it was unfair how he could easily give you a pet name when your boyfriends had trouble coming up with anything that didn’t make you wince.

“What are you doing here, Jungkook?” Your voice wobbled as did you when he helped you up, moving you towards your bedroom. Tears still streaked down your face, stuffing your sinuses with regret as you leaned against his infuriatingly hard body.

“I’m taking care of you. I always take care of you,” he answered. “Watch your step.”

His answer made you fume. Why couldn’t you feel this way for Jimin? He was supposed to be your type, flirty and loud and unafraid to go after what he wanted. In comparison, Jungkook was just a shy, awkward teenager who showed more emotions when he lost a game of League. Sure, what if the way Jimin called you sugar was a little cringey, it was better than babe or doll!

“Those are all terrible pet names, Trix,” Jungkook commented, his grin audible even when you refused to look at him. All you could do was weakly punch his arm, missing wildly while he steadied you on your never-ending path to your bedroom.

You missed your bed. Your mattress was the most expensive thing you owned. Jungkook had given you a lot of shit for spending a pretty penny on it, but it was like sleeping on a cloud, so soft and plush that you could just sink in and forget about everything.

And you really needed to forget the humiliation of Jungkook’s rejection.

“I didn’t reject you. You were drunk, Trix. You didn’t mean it,” Jungkook answered your thoughts once again. “Also your bed is very comfy so I promise not to annoy you about wasting money again.”

He was laughing at you and you couldn’t help but grunt, turning around and placing a clumsy hand on his chest as you steadied yourself. Your eyes met his and you hated how you melted a little at their sparkle. He always had the prettiest eyes, round with expressive mocha irises that burned your heart. Even his lashes were pretty, long and curved like he was a newborn fawn made to be fawned at. Gathering your drunken thoughts, you came to a single conclusion.

Honesty. Best case scenario, this Jungkook was just imaginary and would disappear soon. Worst case scenario, he was real and since you had already humiliated yourself, you couldn’t dig a deeper hole.

“I did mean it! I love you, you dumb idiot,” you announced, your words surprisingly clear. Yet Jungkook still laughed, rolling his eyes as he settled you into bed, telling you again that you were drunk. But he didn’t understand and he had to understand.

“I’ve been in love with you since I saw you play in that dumb ultimate frisbee match when you were a freshman. When you lost your cool at that concert when a guy tried copping a feel. When you gave me a hug when my mom was in the hospital and everything seemed okay for a little while. I love you, Jeon Jungkook. I’ve always been insanely in love with your stupid, dumb face,” you ranted. Kneeling in front of you, Jungkook’s smile wavered into a concentrated frown, brows bunching together before he was smiling again and shaking his head.

“You love me, but you don’t love love me, Y/N,” he countered, making you groan in exasperation, hand coming to his mouth to silence him. Sometimes you hated him.

“You don’t get it, Jungkook! How do I even–” you sighed loudly, grabbing his shoulders to make him understand. But if your words wouldn’t work, maybe someone else’s would. “It is at moments after I have dreamed of the rare entertainment of your eyes, when (being fool to fancy) I have deemed with your peculiar mouth my heart made wise,” you quoted your favourite poet, eyes stuck on his. “Do you get it now?”

Jungkook stared at you for a moment, awestruck in a way that made you want to lean in and kiss him, but kissing without consent was bad, especially if he was looking for a way to reject you again. You still had at least some of your pride. And then he was laying you back and tucking you in, crushing your heart in his palm till it was dust that pricked your eyes, making them dry and watery all at once.

“We’ll talk about this in the morning, Trix. We shouldn’t when you’re not sober,” said softly, fingers running on your scalp before tracing away your tears. With all the alcohol in your system, your filter was off and all you had was misery.

“Can you at least just stay before you reject me? I need a hug,” you whispered, heartbeat accelerating when he climbed in next to you, engulfing you in his arms. He was so warm. Like your favourite blanket shielding you from the cold in the middle of winter. He needed to know the effect he had on you and even though you were feeling the drowsiness from all that whiskey, you wanted to let him in. He had to understand.

“I know you think I love you platonically. I don’t. I really don’t.”

Jungkook exhaled loudly, moving away so only his forearm acted as a pillow for you. Lying on his side he looked at you, eyes tracing your features as you tried your best to keep yours open.

“You’re drunk. We’ll talk about it in the morning,” he said finally. With mere inches between you, you felt your face heat, your thoughts pouring over your tongue without your consent.

“Jungkook, do you know what a spreader bar is?” you asked, staring at him as his eyes widened. He blinked slowly a few times before landing on his back, looking straight at the ceiling.

“Jesus… yes, Trix. I know what that is.”

“I want you to use it on me,” you continued, loose-lipped and hazy. There was no chance you’d remember this in the morning so why not just go all out and let him in on your fantasies. “Tie me up and bend me over. Fuck me so hard I forget my name. God, I wanna be pinned under you so bad.”

“Stop. Fuck… stop, please,” he whispered, his teeth worrying the inside of his cheek in a way you only saw when he was angry. Was he angry? Is that why even in the dim light of the room you could see his ears slowly turning red?

“Still think I like you platonically?” you asked, tone much more mischievous than you had planned. “Would you choke me? Make me lose my breath as you kiss me or will you be nice and gently hold my jaw when you kiss me? I think about that a lot, you know.”

He groaned, his free arm coming to rest over his eyes. He seemed resigned and somehow that made you grin, especially when he sighed loudly before speaking. “Fucking hell Y/N… please just go to sleep.”

“I wanna feel your tongue between my thighs and—“ Before you could finish, he turned, a hand coming to rest gently over your lips.

“Sleep! You need to go to sleep!” he exclaimed in a panic that made your nerves tingle and your stomach warm.

“Why?” you mumbled against his fingers before he removed them.

“Cause you’re making me hard and I need you to be sober when I tell you I love you too,” he replied in a whine that was equal parts adorable as it was surprising. Did he say he loved you too? What a ridiculous concept! You were positive you were imagining him now.

“Wow, you really are a hallucination,” you giggled. This was a nice dream. You liked how all the edges of light were soft in it, how it seemed as if you were floating in bliss. Dream Jungkook was amazing. He felt so real. You wished you never woke up. Especially when exasperated by your chuckles, his arm wound around you and pulled you close, plastering you to his body.

“Does that feel like a hallucination to you?” he rasped, his exhale hitting on your forehead. His comment diverted your attention to the weight poking against your stomach. You wanted to rub up against him but your body felt heavy, powerless against the haze around you.

“Go to sleep now,” he ordered softly and you couldn’t help how your eyelids fluttered shut at his words. Drowning in his scent of fresh lavender laundry, you felt safe and coddled and finally sleepy.

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” you asked, needing the confirmation that the comfort of his arms wouldn’t disappear, even when you sure he was just a figment of your imagination.

“I’ll be here, Trix. Go to sleep.”

“I love you. I really do, you know,” you assured him, getting a giggle in response.

“I’m starting to believe you do, yes.” You felt his lips land on your forehead, so soft and warm that it felt as if falling into slumber was the easiest thing to do. You wrapped your arms around him, snuggling in closer, enjoying the steady beat of his heart as he whispered once again.

“Good night, Y/N.”

—————

Your head was pounding when you woke up. A drummer having its solo, double bass and all. With a groan you opened your eyes to an unmade bed and curtains wide open to the infuriating morning sun. Needles prickling your throat, you say up only to be interrupted by the smell of bacon, the heavenly grease so inviting that your dry mouth watered instantly.

Why was someone making bacon at your home? Last you checked you lived alone.

Slow as molasses, you got out of bed, your eyes zoning onto the glass of water and a few painkillers sat on your bedside table. Without further ado, you drowned the glass, the relief near instant.

And with the relief came the memories. Whiskey. Wuthering Heights. Jungkook. Confessions. Spreader bars. And Jungkook’s words that were no longer so innocent in the morning light.

“Cause you’re making me hard and I need you to be sober when I tell you I love you too.”

Holy. Fuck. Was that real? Did Jungkook really just confess to you? Did you really feel him when he pulled you close last night?

All semblance of a hangover dissolved in the sudden adrenaline rushing through you, pumping your heart into a frenzy that propelled your legs to carry you to the kitchen. Jungkook stood at the stove, frying bacon as he hummed something under his breath. You stared at him as he worked undisturbed, frying bacon, before snapping his fingers and rushing to the plastic bag at the end of your breakfast nook.

You had decided to watch him quietly but as soon as he pulled out the red box, laughter bubbled through you, effervescent and fizzling. He stared at you, joining you with his own giggles as he walked over waving the box of cereal.

“Trix for my Trix,” he said with a grin that scrunched his nose and made his eyes disappear. So cute that your heart skipped a beat and your filter disappeared.

“So I made you hard?” you asked, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth. Perhaps you were still drunk. Jungkook on the other hand just chuckled, bowing his head and running his hand over the nape of his neck. His dark hair fell into his face, covering the blush you loved so much.

“Yeah. Yeah you did,” he confirmed sheepishly.

The silence between you was a little stunted; awkward and too long for people who were meant to be best friends. Before long, Jungkook was distracted by the task of making breakfast, his attention on the pan as he cooked scrambled eggs and bacon, plating them for the two of you. The silence continued as you ate, but you weren’t one to hold your tongue for too long, wanting to just rip the bandaid off and address the very giant elephant in the room.

“Can you please reject me already? This is too embarrassing,” you bemoaned, trying to drown the prickly heat that climbed up your neck with orange juice. Jungkook’s fork paused on the way to his mouth, his eyes large and alert. He swallowed loudly, placed the fork back on his plate and then cleared his throat.

“I… I’m not gonna reject you,” he said softly, his tone so gentle it made you curl your hands into fists to brace yourself for the opposite. “I just… I still can’t believe you love me too…”

You always read about how time slows when you are having a stroke. But you were also meant to smell burnt toast and right now other than the smell of the delicious breakfast in front of you, there was nothing suspicious. Yet, your heart was racing, your palms were sweating and you could feel your legs quivering even when you were sitting down.

“Too?” you asked in disbelief and he nodded, smiling but infuriatingly quiet. Slamming your fist on the table, much to Jungkook’s amusement, you glared at him. “Please spell it out like I spelled it out for you,” you seethed.

“Yes, Trix. I love you. Ever since you walked into my dorm room two days after we met, pulled the plug on my PC, made me lose my ranked game and demanded I go outside and make new friends,” he teased with an eye roll.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes. If you stayed last night instead of running back here and reenacting Doctor Sleep, we could’ve talked it out,” he grumbled, the smile still ever present. With a shake of his head, he stood up, making his way over to you and pulling you up from your seat. Eyes blinking and hands shaking, you looked up at him, your skin burning where it touched you – one hand on the small of your back and the other at the nape of your neck. His thumb caressed your jaw as his eyes traced over your face.

You felt light headed, your breaths too quick to catch, each nerve ending sparking relentlessly. You bit your lip in an anticipation that only made Jungkook move slower, leaning closer and closer till his nose was brushing against yours lightly. His lips barely touched yours and you were frozen, relishing his breath on your skin, fingers curling into the material of his shirt on his chest.

“Kiss me,” you requested, earning a giggle from your tease of a best friend.

“Okay,” he whispered, finally sealing your lips. It wasn’t the rough kiss of your fantasies, nor gentle innocence of your daydreams. It was searing, tilting your world on its axis. It felt like he was breathing fire into you, yet your whole body was erupting into goosebumps. It felt like colours bursting in the wind.

It was life changing and you wanted more.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you stood on your toes to deepen the kiss and he easily acquiesced, his arms fitting perfectly around your waist. His lips moved against yours, the tip of his nose grazing ever so lightly against your cheek. When you moaned against him, too overwhelmed to see anything but stars, he picked you up and placed you on the table, easily fitting between your legs. With a hand on your neck, his thumb gently pulled at your chin till his tongue met yours, making you shiver so violently that he broke away with a laugh, his forehead resting on yours as he caught his breath.

“More,” you asked and his lips met yours once again. This was better than anything you could've ever imagined. You didn’t know how long you kissed, but all you knew was that you never wanted to stop. Especially when he nipped your lower lip in a way that sent a current zapping all the way down to your toes. And then his lips slowed until he was pecking at you, once, twice, three times, his hands cradling your jaw.

Dazed, all you could say was, “Are you going to fuck me on this table?” and Jungkook laughed, loud and boisterous, hugging you to his chest. And what a great chest it was.

“But don’t I need to go get a spreader bar and some bondage tape for that?” he asked with a grin, kissing your forehead, once, twice, three times.

“I mean… we could do that next time?”

“If you think after years of being in love with you, I’m going to let you have your first time on the kitchen table, you are sorely mistaken, Trix,” he replied, a finger coming up to boop your nose.

“Virginity is a social construct!” you protested, but Jungkook just shook his head, kissing away your complaints.

“You fell in love with a romantic, so let me romance you,” he whispered, hands tangled with yours, his words sending a warmth through you.

You never thought you would be someone who would enjoy being romanced. But when Jungkook drove you to the park for your first date with a picnic he had packed from his early morning grocery run, he proved you wrong. Sitting on the grass with Jungkook’s arm around you, you thought about all the books in your collection, and how with their endless words they still couldn’t capture the glow of your love fulfilled.

Perhaps reality was better than pretty hallucinations after all.

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2K notes · View notes

sxcret-garden-archive · 2 years

Text

Makeout Sessions with P1Harmony

✧ P1Harmony Keeho, Theo, Jiung, Intak x reader ✧ genre: fluff ✧ warnings: suggestive

(requested)

Keeho:

After a long day, you’re finally having your long awaited date with your boyfriend Keeho. You invited him over to your place to order food together and to talk and maybe watch a movie, but when the doorbell rings and you let him in, you don’t expect him to immediately wrap one arm around your waist and to kiss you. However, you’re not opposed to his sudden action, and so you feel nothing but excitement when he pushes you up against the door after closing it, and you kiss him back until he parts from you. “Didn’t think you wanted to see me that bad,” you remark, shooting him a grin, while you’re still breathless from the kiss. Next thing you know, you find Keeho’s lips pressed against yours again. “I couldn’t wait to kiss you again,” he mumbles against your mouth, and you smile in amusement, causing the kiss to break. “You wanted to kiss me that badly?” “Should I stop?” He challenges you, pupils growing dark, and you shake your head. “That’s not what I meant,” you whisper before putting your hand behind his neck and bringing him in for another deep kiss. You feel his fingertips sneaking their way past the hem of your shirt, and gliding up your stomach. You moan into the kiss at his touches and at the way he presses his hips against yours, and you let him deepen the kiss when he runs the tip of his tongue across your lower lip. Teeth nibbling on your lips before breaking the kiss, he draws a sigh out of you. “I think dinner can wait,” you mumble, and as your boyfriend nods at you, he is already pulling you towards your bedroom.

Theo:

“We should get up.” You hear Taeyang’s voice right beside your ear as he softly shakes you by the shoulders and you let out a pained noise. “Too early…” you mumble, but he insists. “You slept long enough,” he says. “It’s time to get up.” “No...” you whine, and you glance up at him, hovering above you. Without thinking twice, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him towards you. Then you brush your lips against his, and when you catch him humming at your kiss, you grin to yourself and you grant him a proper kiss. “Babe… I know what you’re trying to do…” your boyfriend mumbles against your mouth, and despite the complaint you can tell he’s about to give in and stay in bed with you. “Is that so…?” you whisper, and before he can answer your lips melt against his again. As his weight becomes heavier on top of you, you feel your roles slowly flip, and he takes the lead as he slips his tongue inside your mouth. Pinning you against the mattress with his body, you let him kiss you stupid, raking your fingers into his hair. But everytime you tug at his bright dyed strands, he only becomes more eager. Thoughts about getting up are long gone for both of you as your limbs get tangled, palms searching the other’s body, and moans escape your open mouthed kisses. Eventually Taeyang lets his lips travel to your nape, and heat rushes to your core when his plump lips come in contact with your sensitive skin. “Let’s stay in bed a while longer…” you suggest, and you know he hates that you ruined his plan of getting up early simply because he doesn’t get to have his way. However, the manner in which he shoots you a glare before kissing you rough, and how his hands have already slipped past your clothes tells you that he’ll make sure he’ll at least have his way with you now.

Jiung:

You and your boyfriend Jiung are watching a movie, when you notice him being unusually touchy today. It starts with him just resting his hand on your thigh - nothing too out of the ordinary - but when he begins to squeeze and eventually his fingertips are gripping the inside of your leg, you decide to shoot him a probing look. You find him not focused on the movie anymore at all. Instead, his gaze is resting on your body, and when you catch him staring red-handed, you think you can see a blush dusted onto his cheeks. You smile at him, and then you simply cup his face in your palm and you brush your lips against his. You part for a second to look for any hint of discomfort in his expression, and when you find nothing of the likes, you kiss him again. You move your lips against his slowly, and eventually Jiung pulls you into his lap with his hands on your hips. The sounds of the movie have become a mere background noise, and instead you focus on the groans that escape your boyfriend whenever you let your teeth graze his lips, or when you teasingly grind your hips against his. “Boring movie?” you ask in between kisses. Jiung nods. “Couldn’t be as exciting as you,” he mumbles with his lips now hovering beside your ear, and a shiver runs down your spine when you feel his hot breath on your skin. Having his lips nipping at the skin on your neck, he runs his large hands up your sides, letting them roam your body. You too slip your hands underneath his shirt, tugging at the fabric while shooting him a pleading look. He kisses you in response, and then you hear him whisper, “Let’s take these off. They’re in the way.”

Intak:

Your boyfriend has been slouched over the sofa for a while now, mindlessly scrolling through his phone and sometimes calling you over when he finds something cool to show you. And everytime you pass him by, your eyes scanning him in that black V-neck you’re secretly hoping he would wear more often, the urge to slap his phone away and to just kiss him grows. You don’t actually slap the phone out of his hands in the end, but you do decide to come sit in his lap instead, straddling him as he puts the device away on his own accord, raising his eyebrows up high. “Baby,” you call out to him, a pout on your lips and your hands resting on his chest. “Can I have some of your attention as well? You’ve only been staring at your phone since you came home.” “O-of course,” he stutters. His gaze fills with regret upon only now realizing how you feel. He reaches out to you to put his hands on your hips, but you’re faster to push him backwards, now hovering above him, and you don’t waste another second to capture his lips in a kiss that starts out sweet, but becomes more heated as it goes on. “I didn’t know you missed me that much,” Intak remarks, and you’re not sure if it’s supposed to be an apology or teasing. But you don’t care, and you simply kiss him again in response. You feel him wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in closer, so you deepen the kiss, and you only part when you’re both in dire need of some air. “So? You sure you wanna keep looking at your phone when I’m right here?” you challenge him, and he absentmindedly shakes his head as his eyes are glued to your mouth. “No…” he mumbles, already pressing his lips against yours for another passionate kiss.

taglist: @tranquilpetrichor @chewryy @v0relino @ripncurl @sanwooyo @sulkygyu @demitrigrace (cannot be tagged) @newestq @acaiasahi [click here to be added]

#p1harmony fluff #p1harmony smut #p1harmony drabbles #p1harmony scenarios #ficscafe #p1harmony imagines #p1h drabbles #p1h x reader #p1harmony x reader #keeho x reader #theo x reader #jiung x reader #intak x reader #fluff #suggestive #req

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daegall · 7 months

Text

[10:05]

pairing: video store worker!hyuck x video store worker!reader

genre: fluff, crack, established relationship!AU, video store!AU

warnings: hyuck has a wound (cat scratches LOL)

word count: 475 words

a/n: ok . ya . im OBSESSED with the new fact check haech video i literally cant get him out of my mind istg

OH ALSO!!! jeno fic in the processs tee hee

networks/taglist: @kflixnet @nct-writers @k-radio + @soobin-chois @markhyuckselca @jaehunnyy @justalildumpling <3

"Remind me again why I have to take care of you?"

Donghyuck only grins proudly at your question, scooting to the end of the table he sits on, bringing you between his legs. "Because you are the best person on this planet and I love you so very much?"

You roll your eyes, but can't help but smile at his tone, the way he leans down to peck at your cheek multiple times, before patting his shoulder. "Mhm, yeah. Sit back,"

You peel off the wrapping of the Band-Aid in your hand, straightening it, before raising it to your boyfriend's cheek. "And how the hell did you get hurt this time?"

Donghyuck grimaces as you lightly push on the wound on his cheek, wincing. "Hey, it was Jeno's cat-sitting job, and I had to fill in last minute! I got half the pay, you know."

You never understood Donghyuck and his need for sudden spontaneous adventures, but you guess that's why you love him. He's unexpecting, and it's a good change to your tight-scheduled lifestyle.

You lean down to place a kiss on top of the band-aid, grinning at Donghyuck's shy smile, before pinching his chin. "You cut 15 minutes off my shift, mind filling that in?"

You step back from your position between his legs, walking across the room to pick up a box full of CD' and movie tapes, the one you originally came in the room for, per request from your boss, but was interrupted by your damsel-in-distress boyfriend.

Donghyuck only whines at your words, hopping off the table to rush and help you with the boxes, easily taking it from you and holding another box with it.

"How about this," He mumbles, resting the boxes by his hip, the other placed on a table next to you. Donghyuck leans in, incredibly close, his nose brushing against yours. "I can borrow a few movies from here,"

Your eyebrows raise at his first negotiation. He's the only employee who's allowed to bring certain CD's or tapes home, because he's assistant manager, and your boss just favors him for his humor and charm. You can't blame him.

"and we can cuddle and have a movie night tonight? My place, 7 o'clock. Sounds good?"

You hate how confident and smug Donghyuck looks, with his knowing smile and sparkling eyes, he knows you can't turn him down.

You raise your hand to squeeze his cheeks, puffing his lips out, before pecking said lips, and pulling away to pinch him lightly. "You take the boxes out, sort them, and get the snacks ready, then we have a deal."

Donghyuck instantly grins, his pearly-whites causing you to go soft and almost physically melt, and he leans down to leave one last wet, loud, loving smooch on your cheek. "I love you, Y/N!"

You love Lee Donghyuck too.

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myjisung · 2 years

Text

kisses with bang chan !

content. stray kids bang chan, headcanons, gn!reader — fluff.

warning. none

a/n. as requested numerous times, chan! might've gotten a little carried away with this one... what can i say, i am a bangchan lover at heart afterall. feel free to request who i should write for next!

YOUR FIRST KISS

it was in his studio. chan had not planned for it to happen that day, he was not one to plan such things out anyway. all that mattered to him at that point was that he liked you a lot, much more than he thought he would. eventhough chan wanted to put his work and career before anything else, he could not help but be constantly distracted by your presence; so much so that he was starting to consider getting into a relationship.

he could not tell whether you liked him or not. his lack of confidence blurred his vision and made him spiral into believing that someone like you would never settle for someone like him: some guy who liked music so much that he sacrificed almost everything to get his tracks where he wanted them to be.

yet, that night, he stopped thinking. if you asked him where that confidence of his came, he would shrug and laugh a little because, really, chan had no idea. one moment he was showing you this new song he had been working on and reading out the lyrics he and jisung had written as you looked at the mixing software on his computer. the next, you were smiling softly as you talked and talked about how the song was much better than the last time you listened to it.

maybe it was the words you chose to say or the way your eyes twinkled as you complimented his improvement, but chan could not help but cut you off to randomly utter "can i kiss you?". taken aback, you stared at him as red crept up your face. chan mirrored your expression, growing nervous and got ready to backtrack that last statement of his before it got weird. fortunately however, you ended up nodding, as if you had been waiting for him to ask. he did not need anything more, chan immediately leaned in after gently cupping your face.

the kiss he gave you that evening was one you would always remember. probably because he could not help but giggle constantly once it dawned on him that he actually managed to kiss you.

HOW OFTEN HE WOULD KISS YOU

as often as he can actually. as soon as there is an opening you can bet he will dive in. he is far from stingey when it comes to kisses. if you ask for one, chan will give you one. if he feels like kissing you, he will kiss you. it is as simple as that. he does not overthink it, chan simply likes to give.

if you wanted an actual estimate, thousands of times a day would be the closest i could get to guessing it right. he loves to say he likes kisses a normal amount but we all know that is far from being the case; no one likes kisses as much as he does. he just wants to kiss and be kissed every single minute of every single day. so, if he can make it happen, he will.

WHAT HIS KISSES ARE LIKE

oh, so lovely. they are the absolute best. they are a mix of everything at the same time. chan gives loving kisses in the morning. he pecks your shoulder when waking up next to you and then kisses your lips sweetly when he meets up with you in the kitchen after his shower. before leaving for work, he would gently tuck stray hairs behind your ear before kissing your cheek and wishing you a great day. when he comes back and is in a good mood, he would get so playful; peppering your face with kisses and planting his mouth right on top of yours at random times just to get a few giggles out of you.

it is impossible to put him in any category. chan's kisses come in all shapes and forms possible; and each and every single one of them is perfect in its own way. he knows what he is doing and you can tell. overall an amazing kisser to be honest.

HIS FAVORITE KISSES ( GIVING )

ONE. head kisses : when he feels protective

TWO. hand kisses : when he's distracted and working

THREE. temple kisses : when he feels extremely soft

HIS FAVORITE KISSES ( RECEIVING )

ONE. forehead kisses : make him feel safe

TWO. cheek kisses : get him all giggly

THREE. lips kisses : he just likes to be kissed tbh

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neo-shitty · 2 years

Text

do i wanna know — l.jn

description. in which the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can’t say tomorrow day.

pairings: lee jeno x female reader

genre. smut, slight pining, slight fluff, university!au(-ish), just a typical bad boy-good girl!au

warnings. swearing, mentions of alcohol/alcoholism, hair-pulling, slight nipple play, messy sex, oral (m&f receiving), aftercare

word count: 10.4k

playlist: do i wanna know. (the only thing i loved abt writing this)

notes. there was an impulse to repost this yesterday, just in time too. happy jeno day! also i fucking hate this but i hope y’all won’t goodbye

“You have 1 new match.”

The notification sat atop others even long after the thread of flirty messages you’ve exchanged, the last few revealing your location and his final message—the ‘on my way’ haunting you for the past few minutes. The wait was always a double edged sword; you either got stood up or you’d end up having a night you’d simultaneously want to both remember and forget.

There’s an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach, the churn as you downed one shot after. You’ve always had your life planned out before you, whether it be by your parents’ hand or by your own. Somewhere along the line of your second year in university, a chain of uncharted events started happening, derailing every plan you had beforehand and throwing your life into complete chaos. Saying you were lost was an understatement. You were sure you planned your life well enough to avoid all further delays in your career. But one particular prick, a spawn of Satan himself, who came in the form of your Chemistry professor, lived just to make everything harder than they were initially.

And you hated her, but you couldn’t tell her that or they’d be kicking your sorry ass goodbye for the semester. But it seemed like she was telepathic anyway, because when your grades were released at the end of the term, yours missed the passing grade by a few points—making you kiss your dean’s lister dreams goodbye.

It took you a while to internalize that you were now a semester behind your initial plan, your plan of a perfect life pushed back by months on some parts and whole years on others. So you say ‘fuck it’, storming out of your apartment and so began the string of impulsive decisions.

Maybe making decisions half sober wasn’t the best idea but it’s unfathomable to think that the best way to cope with an already derailed plan in life? Was to make even more impulsive decisions that would further worsen the situation via your favorite escape plan—drinking the daylights out of yourself and wishing you’d still make your way home. At the very least, you’d give yourself a pat on the back for making it back alive from an outrageous night and give yourself a false sense of hope that you still had control of the things despite everything going haywire around you.

So when you find yourself at a bar on a school night, where (former) straight-A-overachiever girls like you shouldn’t be, it tips the universe’s balance.

It was obvious that your presence created a stir at the bar. AM was the closest spot to your campus, sitting right at the edge of the radius where alcoholic beverages weren’t allowed to be sold. It was typical; low ceilings, dim lights, smokey haze, alive with the hum of music and the chatter of alcohol laced individuals moving about. A pool table sat at one end of the room and booths sat on the other. Directly in your path was the bar and the empty chair you envisioned yourself spending the rest of the night on. It wasn’t everyday that someone who wasn’t a regular walked into AM and that alone got everyone’s attention—curious glances and hungry stares.

You find out about the latter first when someone finds their way to the elevated seat beside you, with more intentions of getting in your jeans than just getting to know more about you. Your clutch on your phone tightens, regret settling in when you’re finally on the spot you got yourself into. One night, you thought the whole time, listening as the man went about to brag about a life you didn’t give a fuck about. Hook ups were supposed to be relieving. This wasn’t the slightest bit relieving.

Your head spins with the smallest of gestures, so you avoid turning your head and looking around. You’re struggling to find the right words to tell him off and the seconds seem to drag on forever up until someone interrupts from behind you.

“She’s with me.”

You turn your head, vision lagging until you finally face the voice’s owner. Whoever he was, he didn’t look back at you. But he had his phone screen facing you, the familiar match notification right beneath his phone’s analog clock—the very same one you had. He doesn’t acknowledge you first, not even sparing a glance. Instead, he keeps his gaze locked with the man beside him.

“Do you want me to repeat myself?” he asks. His voice is bone-chilling, almost threatening.

The other man looks back, stoic and unmoving, but when the other boy doesn’t back down he falters eventually. Clicking his tongue, he slides off the seat. “Next time you won’t be so lucky, Lee Jeno.” Your eyes follow him as he beelines past the crowd of spectators still looking your way, then out through the exit.

You sighed in relief when he was finally out of the bar and out of sight.

“What’s the school’s golden girl doing at a place like this?” Jeno asks, taking the previous man’s place on the seat beside you.

Behind the counter, the bartender catches his eye and rushes over to pour him a drink, wordless. He presses the cigarette wedged between his fingers on an ashtray, lonely orange sparks dulling into nothing but grey ash and tossed aside. He keeps a respectful distance from you, not too far that you couldn’t hear him over the music, but not close enough to touch. His name rings in your head with familiarity, aware that he was someone who went to the same schools you did, but your thoughts were too hazy to pinpoint when you’d exactly been acquainted.

“The school’s golden girl needs some stress relief because she’s this close,” you raised two fingers, bringing them together but not letting them touch each other, “to dropping out.”

His chuckle is a low rumble out his mouth. “I never pegged you for the type who relieved stress like this,” he says, raising his phone with your exchange of flirtatious messages on the screen.

You weren’t listening anymore. Your thoughts are a flurry of drunken thoughts and impulses. But one thing remained rooted: you wanted to stop worrying about your academic problems for tonight—even just for tonight. So when you lean forward, pressing your lips against his own, Jeno flinches. The kiss came with a force similar to a headbutt’s—a literal smack—and you have a feeling that your bottom lip was torn but you were too scared to check. Sober you would have been appalled by your own actions, pulling you by the hair and dragging you out the bar. Yet you downed an entire bottle by yourself tonight and it was well beyond your capacity but you were that desperate to get the problem out of your head.

Jeno was the one who pulled away, one hand on either side of you to keep you propped up. He doesn’t push you too hard nor too far away, just enough to create a gap between your face and his.

You try to pry your eyes open but he’s nothing but a blur of abstract shapes that seem to change colors every now and then. He, on the other hand, was staring down at you, noticing the faint trace of tears staining your cheeks and your plump lips that had been on his just a few moments ago. He watched your eyes flutter open and shut every now and then but ultimately remaining closed.

Pretty, he thought. You’ve always been pretty in his eyes, even when he could only watch you from afar. You were way out of his league just as much as you thought that he was out of yours. That was the case for being on opposite ends of the same spectrum. You were ambitious and clever; consistently at the top of your class even when you were both younger. You had your life planned out and Jeno wasn’t even sure if he’d make it home the next day.

He had always been content with admiring you from afar—catching a glimpse of you through the doorway when he’d pass by your lecture hall, watching you eat lunch with your friends on the school grounds, just always from a distance and never up this close. But as much as he wanted to feel your lips on his again, it felt wrong.

Snapping himself out of the trance, he shakes his head as if it would magically make the blood rushing to his cheeks disappear.

“Yep, no babe. You’re drunk,” Jeno says, turning your chair so you’d be facing the bar again but keeping a hand on your arm so you wouldn’t fall over.

“I’m not,” you slurred.

A deep chuckle bubbled out of Jeno’s lips, “That’s exactly what a drunk person would say. I’m taking you home.”

“No.”

You say it firmly before you lose the battle of trying to stay awake. Your head falls straight to the counter but it never hits the cold, hard marble. His hand rushes up to catch you, your face hitting his warm hand instead. A glass bottle wobbles, nearly knocked off the counter before his other hand reaches over to grab it.

Thank God for fast reflexes, Jeno thought. At least it’d be easier to take you home without having to argue with you.

You wake up for a moment on the bus ride home, your neck feeling sore from leaning on Jeno’s shoulder but it was better than hitting your head against the glass window every time the bus turned into a new street. Jeno had a hand pressed lightly against your cheek to keep your head from falling off his shoulder. You wanted to thank him for doing you such a favor but the bus’ movement only made you more nauseous than you already were.

By the time you reached the bus stop nearest to your place, the world around you was no longer spinning. Your head still throbbed and your neck felt stiff from leaning too long but thankfully you’ve sobered up to walk on your own.

“Which one is it?” Jeno asked and you pointed at your door as you walked down the hallway of your apartment complex.

He walked you over with his hand still gripping your arm. He wasn’t tugging you harshly nor dragging you to your apartment door. He simply kept his hand there so you wouldn’t accidentally trip and fall over.

“Jeno,” you said when you reached your door. Jeno turned and raised an eyebrow. “Thanks and I’m sorry for all the trouble.”

“T’was nothing,” he assured you. “Next time you drop by AM, don’t go alone. Okay?”

The lock dings as you punch your keycard in. You pushed your door open just enough to let yourself in. You turn around to shut the door behind you but Jeno jams the door with his boot. You find yourself staring up at him.

“Don’t go back there alone, okay?” he said sternly. His eyes find yours and for the first time the whole night, you get a clear look at him even when the hallway lights made your eyes sting with their brightness.

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips, a half-drunk half-sober you responded with, “Why? Wouldn’t you be there to save me again?”

He raised an amused brow, staring back at you for a few moments before stepping away from the doorway, never breaking eye contact until you closed the door between you.

You didn’t need to be around long to know who Lee Jeno was.

Back in high school, his name would come up often on the school’s intercom; something about setting an alarm off or bringing alcohol on campus or cutting classes to take his bike out for a spin at the school’s basketball court. You’d hear him walk down the corridors with his footsteps echoing the empty hall as he heads for the school head’s office for the nth time that month alone. He doesn’t come back and eventually things would go quiet. You’d end up believing that they’d gotten rid of him this time. Only to find out a week later that he’d gotten away with it yet again.

Jeno was everything you were taught not to be when you were younger. The boy, more often seen at the bar than inside the walls of a classroom, was known enough that nearly everyone knew a tale about him or two. He was often the talk of the campus and for all the wrong reasons. Surprisingly, he’s more praised for his acts than the opposite.

He was everything you were taught to avoid ever since you were a child but you figured that was easier to say than to carry out, especially when he’s the one who draws closer.

What you had with Jeno? Frankly, you couldn’t answer it either. All you could think about was that night at AM and how things have never been the same since then.

He’d been coming up a lot more than usual. In the back of the lecture hall, across the cafeteria, at the end of the hallway, everywhere. You’re unsure if he had always been there and you’ve only noticed his presence now, or he had never been there at all but he was now. At the car park, in the next class, or just somewhere all the damn time, lingering in the back of your mind and stuck with you like a shadow.

Then he was joining you at your lunch table on the days your friends’ classes overlapped your lunch break, walking you back to your place on the nights you’d stay past sundown at the university library and did all the miniature things that collectibly left a huge impact on you.

But he never said anything about it.

After lunch he’d leave just as quick as he came. When he walks you home, he’d turn around and walk away the second you’re inside. No texts, no calls. Just constantly popping in and out of your life whenever it was convenient for him. He never made it clear what his intentions were, nor what he was doing this for.

With Jeno there was no certainty, as opposed to everything that ever happened in your life. You’re unsure whether he’d stick around for long or disappear the next day. Spontaneous, just as you were that night, and fucking unpredictable. He’d grown on you, you couldn’t deny it. And the surge of emotions you felt welling in your chest whenever he so much as caught your eye in the middle of a crowded hallway, wasn’t something you liked feeling—especially if it was one-sided.

A toss coin dictates your fate on one girl’s night at the end of the semester. The neck of the wine bottle had ended up in your direction for the first time that night and your friends didn’t miss out on the opportunity to ask the big questions.

“So, you and Jeno huh?”

The saucy question is followed by a series of ‘oohs’ and scootches closer, all eager to hear the bit of gossip their friend had been keeping from them.

You feel your blood rush to your cheeks, “I’ve told you a hundred times before, there’s nothing going on between us.”

“You kiss him on one of your drunken adventures without us, he takes you home, he starts acting differently after that and there’s nothing going on between you?” your friend asked, arms crossed in front of her in impatience.

“Nope.”

“Nope or you never asked him?”

You don’t give her an answer. Your silence was enough.

She clicked her tongue, “That’s what I thought. My friend, what you’re playing is a waiting game.”

You sipped a bit of your drink, grimacing at the flavor before saying, “Isn’t he supposed to make the first move?”

“College isn’t a time to be modest, kid. When you see an opportunity, you shoot your shot,” she said as she made a finger gun pointed at another friend of yours, fired, and watched the latter dramatically fall over. “I can’t handle seeing you confused over something crystal clear. You’re supposed to be the smart one here”

“Alright, that’s it,” the latter said, setting her drink back down on the floor of the apartment before fishing out a coin from her pocket. “Heads or tails?”

You purse your lips before taking your pick. “Tails.”

“Heads, you head to AM right now and ask him what the fuck is going on between the both of you. Tails, you get to go on with your little waiting game and we won’t pester you about it any longer.”

Before you have the chance to react, the coin was already doing backflips in mid-air.

‘See ‘ya’ was the last thing your friends said when they dropped you off at AM that night. It was a mistake to wear such short clothing on a chilly night. It was a mistake to even be there at all. The air was frigid when you got off, sending goosebumps all over the skin the breeze touched. You tugged your coat closer to your body to preserve the last bits of warmth from the car.

The two-storey building stood before you. The signage—a heartbeat monitor line shaped to make the letters A and M—gleamed brightly overhead. From where you stood, you could hear the music from inside along with the faint laughter of the customers. You pursed your lips, a mannerism you often did when you were caught in a dilemma. Head in or freeze to death.

You didn’t want to die tonight.

Jeno lived on the second floor, which explained why he was seen here more often than elsewhere and why he was your closest match that night. You make a beeline through the crowd and head to the stairwell at the far corner of the bar. The music grew fainter as you climbed up each step, your own heartbeat now loud enough to drown out everything else.

You’ve thought about this night countless times before but now that you were finally here, you couldn’t figure out whether you had too much or too little to say. You wanted to confront him, wanted to ask him to stop confusing you, wanted to confess to him that you were catching feelings, wanted to know if he felt the same way. But you couldn’t find the right words to say it.

Hi, that night was a mistake.

Hi, what am I to you?

Hi, what the fuck do you want from me?

Hi, I think I’m catching feelings for you. Do you feel the same way?

I hope we can both forget about it and you would respect my wishes that you leave me alone. That made sense, you thought, but you might as well leave now instead of pushing through with this ridiculous plan. The point of the whole expedition was to coax the truth out of him, not pile up on the mountain of lies.

No matter how much you denied it, you didn’t want Jeno to leave you alone at all. In fact, you were hoping you’d get some sort of assurance that he’d be sticking around. It was a long shot but you wanted to give it a try.

‘That night was a mistake.’ My ass.

The thing about mistakes was that you normally wouldn’t want to repeat them. Yet, if you had the chance to do-over the past few weeks since that fateful night with Jeno, you’d do it all over again without the slightest hesitation. And in the do-over, the confrontation would be a lot earlier.

You asked yourself when you had become so bold.

You knock thrice, knuckles shaking as they struck the wood. The deafening music from when you entered the bar was nothing but a series of muted beats that shook the floor beneath you. Time stilled as you stood alone in the hallway, your heartbeat erratic and your thoughts racing. What if he didn’t hear you? Was it too soon to knock again.

But your eagerness consumed you, anxiousness at its peak. You couldn’t wait a second longer. The door opens before your fist lands another time and you look up to a familiar face but not the one you were expecting. Donghyuck stood by the doorway with his hand still on the doorknob, leaning against the doorframe as if to block both your view and your way. And to top it all off, he had his brow arched.

You shrug it off. “Is Jeno home?” The demand slips before you could give it any more thought and as the question hangs in the air between you, you think you’re overstepping.

Donghyuck whistled, “Why so serious?” You don’t ignore him out of your snobbish attitude, you were just too unnerved to joke around. “Yeah, he’s inside with the others. Why?”

“I need to talk to him.”

Thankfully, he didn’t feel like meddling in other people’s affairs tonight so he lets you off with no more than a grin. Better that than lengthy questioning.

“Jeno Lee!” he calls, “______’s here.”

Donghyuck pushes the door open further and you finally see everyone else. They were all seated on the sofa, eyes fixed on the game on the TV screen. Only Jeno turns to look at you, his side glance enough for you to rethink your decision.

“Come in,” he says, turning his whole body around so he could rest his chin on the sofa’s back.

Your heart leaps to your throat when you catch him looking at you back. He had one eyebrow arched in amusement and a sly smirk. He patiently waited for you to enter but you didn’t, too nervous to move an inch. Overstepping again, literally this time.

When you still don’t move after a few seconds, mouth opening every now and then only to close it, he turns to his friends. “Alright, boys. Get out.”

At first, they didn't acknowledge him. For someone who owned the place, he didn’t look like he had that much authority. Or at least, that’s how they made it seem. When he told them he meant it, they finally stirred.

Someone speaks up from one of the couches, eyes still glued to the screen, thumb pushing the joystick. “Why don’t the both of you talk it out outside?”

Another boy sits up, kicking the other boy before taking the controller out of his hands. Jaemin, you recognized, sets it down on the center table. “Let’s go.”

“But I just sat back down,” Donghyuck complained.

This time, Jeno is the one who gives him a look. He knows not to cross him, so he purses his lips and gets off the couch. On their way out, the three spared you a few greetings. Some smiled (Donghyuck with a playful grin, Jaemin with a friendly one) while the other didn’t hide their disapproval as he walked past you (Renjun, controller robbed). You shrug it off.

When they finally disappear down the stairwell, you took your first step in.

“You didn’t need to ask them to leave,” you said when you shut the door behind you.

Jeno kept his eyes on you, “As if you’d say a thing if they were here.” He chuckled and you looked down—he was right. You couldn’t even say anything to him alone. How much more if he had company? “Why the sudden visit?” he asked.

His question hung in the air for some time. First, because you were busy taking in the surroundings. His apartment’s base color was white with accents of grey and black which contrasted AM’s dark gloomy atmosphere downstairs. It was twice as large as your apartment and you even shared yours with 4 other people. Second, you didn’t know what to say. Gone were all the dialogues you had planned. For a moment, you even forgot why you were there in the first place.

You stood there in awkward silence, clutching your coat tighter even when it wasn’t that cold in his apartment. You were nervous and conscious and seeing Jeno staring at you from a few feet away made it worse. You can feel him growing more impatient by the second. In the back of your head you could hear him say, ‘If you have nothing good to say, stop wasting my time.’ It was embarrassing in itself. Even more so when he made his friends leave just to accommodate you. You remember Renjun’s death glare in the back of your mind.

You had to start somewhere. All of this started somewhere.

“About that night,” you said but you trailed off eventually.

The confrontation scene was a lot better in your head. It was easier to plan out than to carry out. In your mind, it was smart and quick-witted. Out loud, you sounded awfully ridiculous. Heck, you couldn’t even get past the first three words.

Jeno scoffed, “What? Are you gonna tell me that night was a mistake and we should just forget about it?” he paused, catching the moment you looked up to meet his gaze. “Hmm?”

Your mind short-circuits at his reply, flinching, the same way it would whenever you were up on a podium of a presentation. But there’s only one pair of eyes staring at you and yet somehow it was enough to strike the fear a hundred would. They were Jeno’s and he stared at you like you were see through, and no amount of effort to cover up would keep you hidden from him. You part your lips to say nothing, your words falling short at the back of your throat—they don’t even hang on the tip of your tongue.

“Because clearly you haven’t.”

Finally, he looked away. You wanted to sigh in relief but the room was quiet enough that he’d hear a pindrop. Even then, with what little pride you had to spare, you didn’t want him to see just how much leverage he had over you, to see how his sly tactics worked. You tried to keep yourself together, putting up a strong front with the lack of eye contact. “Not with you popping in and out of my life every now and then. What’s up with that?”

He rose off the couch. His upper body was devoid of any clothing so when he stretched from sitting too long, it was hard to keep your eyes off of him. He was lean but he kept his body in condition. He winded his shoulders, flexing the muscles on his back and on his upper arm. You looked away when he turned.

“So you noticed?” he asked. You could hear the smirk in his voice and you feel your cheeks heat up. He caught you. “Don’t be too conscious, you’re free to look. Promo’s exclusive to you.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention elsewhere. “Fuckboy,” you uttered under your breath. “Who wouldn’t notice?”

“You seemed like you didn’t,” he answered, cleaning up the mess the boys left behind. “Ignoring me when everyone else was looking.”

The teasing was relentless but you were growing impatient too. “I don’t have time for this, Jeno. What the hell do you want?”

“You.”

When you spun around he was leaning against the kitchen counter, loading the plates into the dishwasher beneath it. He still had a smirk plastered on his lips and it frustrated you. He countered every question you had with words that would turn the tables on you. You came here to do the questioning but it felt more like you were on the hot seat. You were wandering in uncharted waters like a lost boat in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle. You were aware of the danger but you were letting your curiosity get the better of you. Like walking a tightrope with unstable harnesses, like a moth drawn to flickering candle light.

“I’m serious,” you dismissed him.

“So am I.”

“You’re insufferable.”

Jeno laughed like it wasn’t the first time he’d heard it. “And you like me anyway.”

You bit your lip, glad you had your back turned to him or he would’ve noticed how flustered you were getting. “What makes you so sure?”

“The fact that you’re here in my room confronting me about it,” he answered. “If I didn’t have any sort of effect on you, you wouldn’t be here at all.”

“My friends made me do this,” you defended yourself.

“But your friends would never make you do something you didn’t want to do.”

The tables have definitely turned now and you didn’t like it. You lost the upperhand, or maybe you never had it in the first place. It was as if he knew all your cards from the start and he took the liberty to excruciatingly drag out the part where he tells you that he’d known everything.

You turned, defeated and embarrassed that you’ve completely fallen into his trap. “Why are you doing this?”

“This?” he asked, his annoying smirk still on his lips. “You’re in my apartment.”

“This, whole thing!” you burst out, throwing your arms in the air in exasperation. “Why did you start acting differently after the kiss? What’s with all the mixed signals? I just came here to ask you why you’re doing all the shit you’re doing because it’s so fucking confusing. Like do you fucking like me or not?”

The million-dollar question slips out of your tongue faster than you can even register it. You’re breathless when you stop talking and you only realize how loud you were talking when the apartment falls silent again.

Across the room, Jeno stashes the last of the glass plates into the dishwasher before kicking the metal door closed. He leaned against the counter with his hands on top to support his upper body. “So you remembered that we kissed?”

It was the last straw for you. You rolled your eyes, “You know what, forget it.” You spun on your heel, marching back the way you came. A part of you wanted to remain calm and pester him until you got the answers you came for. But you were fuming with embarrassment. You wanted to slap yourself for even thinking that maybe all those gestures meant something. It obviously didn’t. In fact, you wondered why you never thought that he could’ve done that to a hundred other girls before you.

Stupid.

You reach the door in seconds, grabbing the metal doorknob to swing it open. It opens by a few centimeters before it’s slammed back shut. The knob slips out of your grasp, so you let your arm fall to your side instead of letting it hang awkwardly in midair.

You could feel Jeno behind you, his breath fanning your face ever so slightly. He had one hand pressed against the door.

“Who said you were going anywhere?” he asked.

You turned around to face him, leaning against the door so you’d put some space between the both of you. You tilted your head so you’d manage to look him in the eye, “You wouldn’t answer my questions. What’s the point of staying here?”

Jeno looked down at you. His eyes shifted every now and then as if he were studying your features. You couldn’t help but feel conscious, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from either. You found it hard to level your breathing with the proximity. This was the closest he’d ever been since the night you kissed him.

Your cheeks flared up when his skin brushed yours lightly. “Fine, I’ll answer. But answer mine.” He waited for you to nod before he continued. “You remembered that we kissed?”

You remember the feeling of his lips on yours even in your drunken haze. His chapped lips, the scent of burnt cigarettes and the accidental teeth clashing. You would’ve dropped anything to let that night go the way you had originally planned it to. “Yeah.”

Jeno leaned closer and you finally broke eye contact. Your eyes trailed from his lips down to his jawline all the way down to his bare torso. Seeing you flustered made him amused, his lips forming a playful smirk again. He lifts his other hand, running the back of his palm down the side of your face. He traces your jaw with one finger before resting it beneath your chin. He tilts your head up so you’d stare up at him again.

“Do you know that I want a do-over of that night?” he whispered, his voice raspy and low. He stared at you with hooded lids and your heartbeat spikes. The pit of your stomach stirs as you feel your own arousal begin to form. Every mental alarm system you set for yourself to avoid situations like these were blaring. You shouldn’t be here, you should be home. You shouldn’t be turned on by sweet lies.

Yet here you were. You balled your fists to suppress the last bits of your self control. Your fingers were tingling with the need to run them up his bare chest and down his muscled arms. You longed for his touch for way too long to hold back now. You wanted to feel his lips on yours again. You wanted to know what you missed out on.

What was there to lose? Your life was going haywire anyway already. Might as well make the most of it now.

Your response comes before you can ponder too much about it. “And you think I don’t?”

It was his turn to be taken off guard. You see the surprise in his eyes for a moment before they’re clouded again. He wasn’t looking into your eyes anymore.

And like the first time it happened, you pressed your lips on his. This time he doesn’t push you away. It’s when both his hands make their way to the sides of your neck that your lips finally part. He takes the chance to slip his tongue in. The kiss is sloppy and messy, with you just letting him take control. Then he pulls away to let you breathe, but the night was young and he was far from done with you.

Your back hits the back of the door when he kisses you again, his leg slightly forward and wedged between both of yours—parting them slightly. Your hands finally find their way to his body, running them up his chest and feeling the outline of his muscles on your fingertips. You felt Jeno lose his balance when you pulled him closer, pressing deeper into the kiss and groaning. His thigh brushes you where you’re sensitive. Only then do you feel how aroused you were and you mutter a silent prayer he doesn’t prey on the knowledge of it.

But you could already feel him smirking into the kiss, tensing the muscles on his thigh on purpose and making you wobble where you stood. Your legs closed on instinct, but it only made you more pathetic than you’d originally let on.

His hands clutch your coat, pulling it off your body before tossing it aside. His hands run down the side of your body, settling on the curve of your waist to pull you closer. As if you could get any closer than you already were. But no, he pushes you down, and electricity courses across your skin as you grind on his thigh. A moan escapes your lips only for him to catch it before he begins nipping at the skin on your neck.

“Something wrong?” he asked, licking his lips after leaving his first few marks on your neck.

Your own hooded, droopy eyes told him everything. He knew better than to let you walk with how weak your legs were.

“Hop on,” he says and you oblige, wrapping your legs around his lower torso. Your dress lifts and reveals the rest of your thigh that had been hidden earlier. He ran his hand up your thighs, supporting your weight as he carried you somewhere more comfortable. You find yourself burying your face in the crook of his neck, sucking on the skin and leaving your own marks behind. He tilts his head to give you more room and hums—the vibrations reverberating just enough that you feel it on your lips.

When you reach his bedroom, he locks the door behind him. He sets you down a foot away from the edge of the bed. You wobble for a bit before feeling the strength return to your legs. Jeno turned his head suddenly, capturing your lips again. Your head tilts back at the sudden pressure but his hand makes it to the back of your neck again.

You take a step forward and his legs hit the edge of the bed, making him fall onto the mattress behind him. He takes one hand off you to support himself, keeping himself in an upright sitting position. His other hand snakes around your waist as you climb unto him. Your legs were on either side of him—resting on the mattress, while you took your place on his lap.

It’s your turn to smirk when you feel his own struggle beneath you. He groans into the kiss when your clothed mound brushes against his bulge. He pulls away and leans back, taking a moment to admire the view in front of him. You still had your arms hooked around his neck and you looked at him back. There’s a smear of lipstick right where your smirk ended.

Jeno unwinds his arm around your waist to reach for your face, brushing his thumb against the skin where the smear was before he rests it over your lips. You grab his arm, keeping his hand where it is when he tries to retract it. He presses down on your bottom lip, marveling at how soft and plump they are. Your lips part at his touch, his thumb disappearing behind your lips as you suck on it.

You shut your eyes, feigning innocence even when you feel him pulse beneath you and it only heightens your own arousal. You bob your head once, letting his finger go only to catch him looking at you—hypnotized. Feeling cheeky, you kiss his thumb to catch his attention. It works and his eyes finally meet yours.

“You should’ve said you wanted me this bad,” he says ironically, staring at you with hooded eyes.

You raised a brow, “I’m the one who wanted you? I wasn’t the one trying to get your attention.”

“I wasn’t the one who drunkenly kissed you,” Jeno rebuts.

“As you said, I was drunk.”

“Drunken actions are sober thoughts.”

You rolled your eyes before staring down at him again. You run a hand through his hair again before resting it on his shoulder. Pushing down, you lift yourself off his thighs. “Are we really going to argue about this? Don’t you have other problems?” you asked, tilting your head before lowering yourself on him again. He heaves a deep breath in and you catch his eyes rolling back for a moment before he stares at his clothed manhood beneath you. You follow his gaze and see the results of your antics. “Need some help with that?”

Jeno meets your eyes and gives you a wordless nod.

You smile, hopping off the bed. You slip between his legs, kneeling on the floor in front of him. He watches you take your place, tensing when he feels your hand run up his thigh. Your hand doesn’t waste the opportunity to rub him through the material.

Jeno clicks his tongue, “Golden girl’s a fucking tease? That’d make a headline.”

You only replied with a smile, flattered at the side comment. Your hands reach the garter of his sweatpants. Hooking it with two fingers each hand, you drag the material down all the way to his ankles along with his boxers. His member stood tall and erect on his lower abdomen. He wraps a hand around it, moving his hand slowly up and down. White substance leaked through his slit, the beautiful result of your endless teasing from earlier. The sight of it makes your own arousal pool unto your underwear, you worry the whole undergarment is too soiled now to be used later on your way home.

You stifle a laugh and he raises an eyebrow, “Proud?”

You shrug playfully, “Maybe.”

“Now, suck it,” he says nonchalantly which makes you perk up your own brow.

“What if I don’t want to?” you ask, resting your arms on either leg of his.

He rubbed his thumb against the slit of his shaft’s head, smearing it with pre-cum which he later brushed on your lip—hinting at the teasing you did earlier. “Sure, you don’t. When he puts his hand away, you lick your lower lip. The substance is salty on your tongue and there’s more of it still leaking out of his member. There will be strings of it if you do him good.

You move closer, lining your face up with the head. Your eyes meet when you look up to see how he looked from where you were. It’s now your hand wrapped around his pulsing member. His pre-cum alone is enough to lubricate your palm, making it easier for you to move your hand up and down. A groan escapes his lips when you run your own thumb on his slit, pressing down on his most sensitive area.

You lap your tongue against the side of his shaft, tasting more of the white substance on your tongue and it makes your mouth water. You reach the tip of his head and he watches eagerly as you part your lips to take him in. His head reels back and a low groan escapes his mouth as you close around him. You feel him at the back of your throat and when you’re close to gagging you pull yourself up, sucking him all the way up with your mouth vacuumed. When your throat recovers, you take him in again, repeating the process while slowly picking up your own momentum.

Jeno’s hand reaches over to you, collecting strands of your hair that fell off your shoulder whenever you lowered your mouth. You mistake it as a sweet gesture—an act of kindness in the midst of the heat—until he gathers all the hair up behind your head to use it as a grip.

He utters your name—his voice coming in the form of a raspy, breathless whisper. You hum in response, slowing down to hear him out. His hand rests idly on top of your head. “If it’s too much let me know.”

You manage to give him a nod and brace yourself for immense hair tugging and relentless pushing on the back of your head so you’ll take his dick faster. But he doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he tugs once on your hair and keeps you in place—your mouth a mere centimeter away from the end of his dick. Jeno thrusts into your mouth without warning. The tip hits the back of your throat making you gag but it’s gone before your throat can tighten.

“Baby,” he calls out. When you don’t look up immediately, he reaches for your face. His touch is warm against your cool skin. “Can you take it? If you can’t then we’ll stop.”

“What makes you think I can’t?” you answered.

His grip on your hair tightens again but he lets you take him in for a few sucks before he’s thrusting up to meet you every time you bobbed your head. Your fingernails dig into his thighs as he picks up the pace. You feel yourself gagging but your mind is too clouded with Jeno’s groans as his orgasm nears. You feel his thighs begin to shake beneath you, his thrusts becoming more and more sloppy. He barely gives you any time to breathe anymore but you understand his desperation to release. He thrusts one last time to shoot his load deep in your throat, pushing your head down so you’ll take all of it. But there’s only so much you can take.

The sticky substance drips off the side of your mouth and onto your chest and you look up at Jeno imploringly. But he isn’t looking at you, he had his head leaned back as he relished in his release. His grip on your hair loosens at last and you feel your neck relax. You finally swallow to give your mouth a bit more room before proceeding to suck him again until his senses are back to normal again.

He was still panting when he was made aware of your presence again. You were still licking the sides of his shaft when he tried to get your attention. He tugged you upward when your lips finally left his still-erect member.

“You did so well,” he slurs, barely comprehensible.

The remark you were about the reply is muffled when he pulls you down to kiss you. You nearly fall onto his lap again but you’re able to hold yourself upright. Instead, he guides you onto the mattress. He keeps one arm wrapped around your waist and his other hand on the back of your head, as he lets you fall onto the sheets beside him. He doesn’t break the kiss, not even when your places are flipped.

You were lying on the sheets, back arched until Jeno decided to pull his arm away. You were caged by him—lying between his legs with his hands on either side of the bed beside you. You kept your arms wrapped around his neck to pull him deeper into the kiss.

Jeno’s hands find their way to your body. Your breasts fit snugly in his hands, one for each one. He gives them a squeeze, earning a muffled moan from you. He removes your arms from the back of his neck so he could slip the fabric from your off-shoulder dress off. When he successfully does so, he tugs down on the remaining cloth covering your chest. Your dress is left to rest on your abdomen.

He only breaks the kiss when he starts to move lower. He begins to nip at the skin by your jawline, down your neck, leading down to your collarbones. When his lips finally reach your breasts, he takes his sweet time to play. He takes one in his mouth and the other in his palm. Your back arches off the bed when his tongue flicks your nipple, while his other hand draws circles around the other. The sensation sends goosebumps all over your skin. You feel your arousal drip, you were starting to think you’ve started to stain the sheets now too.

You yearn for contact when his lips leave your body entirely. You feel his hands run down the side of your waist and then your hip. They end up on the ends of your dress and he brings the fabric up, exposing the rest of your thighs that were kept hidden. He catches sight of the growing stain on the thin fabric.

His fingers wander over to where your crotch is. “How long have you been holding this in, hmm?” he asked, pressing his hand down on your folds before rubbing you through the fabric.

You jolt on contact, already feeling sensitive from earlier events. You know Jeno doesn’t plan on stopping your agony any time sooner, not with all the teasing you’ve done earlier. A moan escapes your lips when he starts drawing circles around your nub and Jeno would be lying if he said he didn’t like the sound of it. The cloth rubbing against you was only further soiled by his actions.

The fabric was drenched where he touched it and the thrill of knowing he was the one responsible for the mess you’ve made just made him more excited—evident in the throbbing of his cock even when he’d just released in your mouth.

Your breathing becomes uneven as he stimulates you even more. You find yourself grabbing onto Jeno’s arms, your back arching off the mattress every time he rubbed a bit harder. Your hips move to match his movements, thrusting up to meet him everytime he brings his fingers down further.

“You like that don’t you?” he asked, feeling you throb in his palm.

You were in too much pleasure to even manage to say a single ‘yes’ without moaning. You mumble an ‘mhm’ between breaths in reply.

“Mhm?” he echoes, setting the fabric aside and swiping two fingers through your wet folds. His fingers easily slip through, coated in the substance that’s been gushing out of you since this heated thing started. He continued making circles around your nub—the direct contact making you more dizzy than earlier.

“Jeno.” His name leaves your lips as a moan.

He looks up and one look at you makes the thoughts in his head swirl. You gripped his arms tighter every time he rubbed faster. Your teeth kept your bottom lip clipped between them as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

He lifts himself off of you, moving back until his face was right before your core. His hot breath fanned your folds, sending a wave of goosebumps up your body. His lips meet yours. Your breathing hitches on your throat, becoming more and more uneven as his tongue flattens and licks up every bit of your arousal.

“Jeno, please,” you beg as you tried your best not to rub yourself on his open mouth.

“Please what?” he asks, but you don’t get to answer because he licks the most sensitive part of you and your mind goes blank.

He had one finger parting your folds enough to make room for his tongue. Something tells you this wasn’t his first time. Nobody wouldn’t have known that all thrusts and no play wasn’t the way to go with women. His tongue sucks on the skin by your bundle of folds sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through you. His antics make it hard for you to even have time to breathe.

Your orgasm draws closer with every flick of his tongue against your bud. He notices the way your breathing rushes. Your mouth hangs open, your back arched off the mattress and your hips thrust up but Jeno holds you down.

“Fuck. I’m close.”

He doesn’t answer just licking and sucking just like you had been when you were the one between his legs. Your legs begin to shake as you feel your orgasm ripping through you—a lot more satisfying than usual due to the lengthy build up. Your legs close due to the overstimulation when Jeno doesn’t stop, keeping his face caged between your thighs. He pulls away, gripping your left thigh and kissing it. Your senses were still muffled from your release but you can see his lips moving as if he were saying sweet things.

His hand traces your thigh before he rests it on your mound—red from the simulation and throbbing after your release. He parts your folds with his fingers before pushing two digits into your hole.

Your legs go slack, parting when he pushes further into you. When he pulls out, the white substance from your release follows—dripping down your lips and unto the sheets beneath you. He basks in the sight and the mess he’d made of you.

Jeno comes up to meet you again, wedged between your legs and his member brushing against your thigh as he moves. He turned your head so you’d face him again. He leans down to kiss you, the taste of your own arousal still present on his lips.

The kiss is passionate as opposed to every lust-driven thing that happened prior to it. There is no rash teeth-clashing, just feeling his lips on yours and the occasional slip of his tongue into the area of your mouth. Your limbs hook around him, drawing him closer. The kiss lasts for a while until he notices that you were both running out of air.

He pulls away, looking down at you with drowsy eyes. “I’ve loved you long before you even noticed.”

You fight the urge to make a clever remark—that what you had between you was nothing but an illusion in his head brought about by the hormones triggered while in bed. But you bite your tongue and don’t continue. “If you do, don’t let this night be a night I’ll forget easily, hmm?”

Jeno smirks, reaching for the drawer of his bedside table. His hand scrambles through it for a while until he finds what he was looking for. The way he drew the packet confidently out of its box makes you chuckle.

“Okay, baby. But I don’t want any additional problems.” He brings the packet to his mouth, ripping the wrapper with his teeth before pulling the content out.

“Baby?” you ask, watching him put the condom on himself.

“I’ve been calling you that all night.”

“I like it.”

“Then that’s great. You should get used to it,” he says. Then he aligned himself at your entrance, rubbing his member between your two folds before pushing his tip in. You watch his shaft disappear into you and you feel him inside. He stretches you but he doesn’t move until you've gotten used to his size.

“Why’s my baby clenching all around me? Are you that desperate to be fucked?”

His words make you clench even more, which was pathetic for you and amusing for him. No matter how much you wanted to play the brat, your body completely betrayed you.

“Fuck no,” you answered but as you expected, Jeno doesn’t buy it.

“Mhm,” he says, pulling out halfway before pushing himself back into you.

Your eyes flutter shut, feeling the coming and waning pain of the stretch inside of you as Jeno begins thrusting into you. He starts slow, leaning forward so he could rest on top of you. His hand finds your face and he’s kissing you again—soft, passionate and almost loving. You’re unsure if what you were feeling inside was the build-up of your next orgasm or the butterflies flying about.

He adjusts himself, pushing you up so he could have a better angle when thrusting into you. You moan into the kiss as he reaches untouched spots inside you. His mouth leaves your lips again, sucking on the skin by your jawline all the way down to your neck. The combined sensation of his lips on your skin and his cock deep in you makes you even more sensitive. A moan escapes your lips every time he thrusted in and it just makes him more feral.

He picks up the pace, unhooking your arms from his neck so he could pin them on either side of you. The view makes his mouth water. Your mouth hung open as you moaned his name—loud enough that it bounces off the bedroom walls. Your breasts bounced with every thrust he did. All around you, the room smelt like sweet aroma of sex with the echo of skin against skin muffled by the exchange of grunts and moans.

Jeno lets your hands go and you clutch on to the sheets. He had one hand massaging your breast and the other rubbing his thumb against your nub .

“Jeno,” you breathed out, peering your eyes open for a moment before they flutter shut again as your orgasm drew closer.

“I know,” he pants as his thrusts quicken, “me too.”

The familiar feeling wells in the pit of your stomach once again—like knots tightening with every thrust into you. Toes curling. Heart pounding. Breath, too short and sporadic.

Then it all loosens.

Your mind is the first to register your climax and you let the post-orgasmic feeling of bliss wash over you. Jeno fucks you through it, still thrusting at an alarming speed just so he could catch his own release. He pulls out before it happens, sheathing his cock of the plastic that was once wrapped around it. The hot strings of white spurt out of his slit and onto your dress.

For the second time, you feel your juices spill out of you. You unhook your legs and let them fall unto the mattress, having little to no strength to keep them upright. You were still catching your breath when Jeno shuffled around you.

“_____,” he calls out to you.

You open one eye with all the strength you can muster but your eyelid already threatens to fall back shut.

Jeno smiles innocently, almost as if nothing had happened just a mere few moments ago. “Tired now, are we?” he asked and you manage to give him a lazy nod in response. He pushed himself off the bed, slipping into his boxers and sweatpants again before standing fully at the edge of his bed. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You’re too tired to even reply. You were slipping in and out of consciousness. You could hear him cross the room, hear the water running, feel him dip the mattress around you. He was cleaning up the mess you’ve both made—his release on your dress and yours on the sheets.

“Sorry,” you utter as he takes off your soiled underwear while you lay immobile.

He shakes his head, “It’s alright, it’s on me for making you cum this hard.”

You raise one of your eyelids so you could lock your target. You kick him with whatever strength you had left in you before instantly regretting it when you start to feel pain in your lower stomach. You wince, your pain becoming evident on your expression for Jeno to see and he only laughs.

“Can you sit up for me?”

You nodded in response but your body didn’t follow. Jeno chuckles at the sight and offers his hands to pull you up. You take them. Even with the extra help, you still struggled to stay upright. He looks down at you—drowsy eyes, heated cheeks and pouty lips, trying desperately to stay awake. He leans down to kiss your forehead, reaching around you so he could tug at the ends of your dress.

“Arms up,” he mumbles and you oblige. He pulls the fabric up and over your head before setting it aside. He then hooks his arms beneath your knees, lifting you off the bed. He heads to the bathroom, kicking the door open. The room is spacious enough that he doesn’t struggle maneuvering around even while carrying you. “It’s warm,” Jeno whispers before setting you down in the tub.

The water was indeed warm when it wrapped around you—soothing and relaxing. You curl up, wrapping your arms around your knees and letting your head rest on top of it. Shortly after, Jeno joins you. He sits at the other end of the tub, his legs stretched beside you. He leaned back against the rim of the tub, arms resting on either side.

“What now?” you ask, turning your head so you’re facing Jeno.

He raises a brow, “What ‘what now’?”

You stare at him, struggling to find the right words to use in explaining what was bugging you. “Are you ever curious with what lies ahead? Like ahead of this day, ahead of this?”

“No,” Jeno cuts you off. “Unlike you, I don’t have my entire life planned out. I live day to day not knowing where I’ll be at the end of it. Why’d you ask?” His eyes meet yours and you look away, keeping your mouth shut. He pursed his lips, “Did my presence disrupt your perfectly planned life?”

A chuckle escapes your lips, “To be honest, sort of.”

For a fleeting moment, you see him frown. He immediately regains his composure, masking himself in his cocky attitude once again, “We can always pretend none of this ever happened. But I’m not sure if you want that.” His eyes darted around the bathroom just to avoid yours. “I’m sure I don’t,” he mumbles under his breath, but you don’t catch it.

“I told you to give me a night I won’t forget and you tell me we could pretend none of this ever happened?”

“I don’t want to be the reason your life is thrown off track, babe,” he answers, finally catching your eyes and staring right back at you. “But,” he continues, “I’ll stick around only if you still want me to. So, do you?”

The question hangs in the air between you. If you hadn’t felt anything at all and only ever viewed him as bothersome, you would’ve said no right away. If you were merely here to confront him, you wouldn’t have let things get this far. But here you were, sitting naked in the tub across Jeno as you watched the boy’s eyes stare right into yours.

You were caught in the web of your own decisions and the slip-ups of your suppressed emotions. Your life was spinning further out of your control with every second you spent with him. He was everything you vowed to avoid in life—spontaneous, unpredictable and uncontrollable. Yet he gives you the opportunity to keep him in your life or not.

Having him around meant there were more nights like these; all of which were unaccounted for in your plan. Having him around meant having additional unwanted emotions; love, lust, jealousy. You never liked change, and having him around goes everything you’ve ever planned for.

But you think back on what he’d said earlier, about living life on a day to day basis without worrying too much about what the future held. It wasn’t certain anyway.

I’ll stick around only if you want me to. So, do you?

You do, but you couldn’t bring yourself to sound anymore submissive than you already were in his eyes.

You roll your eyes, “I can’t believe you’re asking me this after we fucked.”

The amused laugh that escapes Jeno’s lips makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter about. You’re unsure if it was because of the nervousness of trying out something with no certainty or you just liked hearing him laugh. “So, is there a next time?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, throwing the last bits of your caution into the wind as you take the leap of fate, “you tell me.”

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