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#k: angst
bywons · 15 days
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ꔫ GO AHEAD AND CRY, LITTLE GIRL (enhypen)
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⌕ where you cry in their arms
pairing. bf!enhypen x f!reader w.c. 1.05k tw/cw. none really genre. fluff sru's note. requested! help i don't think i did a good job with this one ( CATALOGUE?! )
¤ feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated, PLS REBLOG if u like the fic !
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LEE HEESEUNG can feel his heart breaking at the sight, his one and only love, his pretty girl sobbing into her hands in front of him, the cause still unknown. but he doesn't waste any time and pulls you into his embrace, your soft plump cheeks strained with tears pressed to his broad and snug chest, salty tears dampening his beige sweatshirt but that's the last thing that he cares about right now. he shushes you, one hand wrapped around your waist and the other softly stroking your back, in the utmost hope that you'll eventually stop crying. cause every tear that spills out of those pretty eyes of yours, it hammers lee heeseung's heart. would press soft kisses on top of your head until you calm down, along with his hug around you closing in tighter. when you calm down, he'll wipe away all the tears and make you a comforting hot bowl of ramen <3
PARK JONGSEONG drops whatever task he's doing, no matter how trivial or significant, and
rushes to you the second he hears something as slight as a sniffle from you. and even when he's not close enough to be seen or called for, jay is one call away. has the biggest “and i crumble completely when you cry” energy. literally pulls you into his lap the second he sees the smallest drop of tears on your face. rocks both your bodies back and forth while whispering sweet nothings into your ear, his hand simultaneously working and massaging your scalp. he literally doesn't even stop for a second until your sobs have completely died down, and even then he rocks you both back and forth while whispering about your problems, while you rest in his lap with your hands and cheeks pressed against his warm chest. jay still doesn't return to his aborted work and don't you dare ask him about it, cause you're way more important.
SIM JAEYUN puts on the saddest face with the biggest pout, literally becoming a puppy face. caresses your face and cradles it between his hands, eventually wrapping his arms around your waist. gets so worried when he sees you sobbing, at one point he gets insecure of being a bad boyfriend, always thinks he did something wrong. jake would press soft feathery kisses all over your face and right when you give the smallest upward twitch of lips, he'll literally attack you with tickles! jake just wants to hear you laugh and wants joy to stick to you forever. brings layla to you too <//3 so that all three of you can cuddle together while he just rambles random things to your now sleeping figure.
PARK SUNGHOON takes a bit of time to process the scene in front of him when you break into sobs, don't get him wrong but he's just disheartened at the sight of your tear stricken cheeks and red puffy eyes. if he's still foreign to it, it would take him some time to approach you in your sobbing fit but if not he's quick to act. but eventually picks you up and makes you sit in front of him at the edge of the bed. if you don't want to talk it out then he'll pull you closer until your heads’ on his shoulders, his hands creeping up beneath your shirt to draw random doodles on your back while you calm down in his embrace <3 sunghoon definitely kisses your cheeks a lot, until you're giggling from his kisses, and then and only then is he relieved. makes sure to ask what was wrong after.
KIM SEONWOO almost cries along with you, the soft and choked sounds of your sobs and your salty damp cheeks overwhelms him. immediately wraps you in his embrace, practically burying you in it. with glossy eyes, he tries to shush you up with an accompanied series of kisses to your cheeks, forehead and lips. when you're crying away in his arms, he'll play with your hair, braiding them only to untangle them and braid them again. gives you all the comfort in the world; he even brings your favourite plushies— that he won for you at the arcade— to you and wraps you in the warm, thick duvet. he giggles at the cute scenario in front of him, before tackling you in his arms and bombarding your face with soft kisses. definitely eats mint choco with you later.
YANG JUNGWON being the reserved and calm man(leader too) he is, he would hand you a glass of water immediately when he sees streams of tears flow down your cheeks. doesn't waste a second after that, wiping away your tears from your cheeks and pulling you into his embrace, stroking your back in a soft rhythm which makes your eyes flutter close. the smell of his cologne is mellow, which drives your nerves slowly and calms you down in his embrace. jungwon hugs you tighter and presses occasional kisses to your shoulders and forehead, just to let you know he's still here, all ears to listen to whatever's wrong. lays down with you, his head resting still upon his chest, listening to the soft thumps of his heartbeat through his grey sweatshirt while he asks you what's wrong. his caresses don't stop even for a second while he lays with you, listening to your heart.
NISHIKURA RIKI ‘s heart melts when you break down like that, #2 at the “and I crumble completely when you cry” energy, don't ask me why. but our boys’ not nervous at all! he loves his girlfriend dearly and always has a trick up his sleeve whenever the smallest inconvenience comes across. rushes to you and hugs you so tight that at one point you swore you couldn't breathe. that is when riki thankfully lets you off his grip and pulls you closer, until your back is pressed to his chest. now it's time for nishimura riki to pull his trick out! girlfriend 101: when y/n's crying, show her cute cat videos. your have died down soon enough after riki holds his phone before your eyes, a random cat compilation video playing. he doesn't forget his cuddles though, literally becomes plush to you while you both stream cat videos that whole day.
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© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.
(📌) :: TAGLIST IS OPEN! @euncsace @fleumiu @leaderwon @dimplewonie @yrhome @heartswonn @jwonistic @aaa-sia @ashtxrie @kgneptun @lilacnini nets! @/k-labels
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2K notes · View notes
yoonia · 2 months
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A Christmas Fix — 01 (m) | kth
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⟶ Summary | One-night stands are supposed to be nothing more than just. It shouldn’t have involved seeing those two red lines looking back at you weeks later without a name or a contact number linking you back to your mystery man. Nothing more but his face. The unforgettable face that would sometimes appear in your dreams at night. So unforgettable that you immediately recognise him the moment he walks into your family home at Christmas, hand-in-hand with your older stepsister.
With special collab prompt: "the holidays aren't so bad with you around."
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⟶ Title | A Christmas Fix
⟶ Pairings | Taehyung x female reader
⟶ Genre | Secret Baby!au, Second Chance!au, Strangers to Lovers!au
⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; including: alcohol consumption, mentions of pregnancy, vomiting/morning sickness, surprise babies, miscommunication, profanities/swearing, minor body insecurities (implied), some family drama; involves multiple explicit sex scenes, including: sexual tension, one night stand, drunk sex (with clear consent), minor dom/sub dynamic, brat!reader, size kink, rough sex, light choking, restraint, hair pulling (M, F), protected & unprotected sex, fingering (F), oral sex (F), clit play, breast play, stripping, biting, minor hand job/groping, grinding, masturbation (M, F), dirty talk, implied pain kink, praise kink, body worship, marking, multiple orgasms (M, F), overstimulation.
⟶ Word count | 25,363 words (of 54,773 words)
⟶ Story Notes | Part of the Jingle All the Way collaboration with @leahsfavefics, @kithtaehyung, @kpopfanfictrash, @cybrsan, and @sugaurora | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs) | Moodboard was done by me | Posted in: January 31st, 2024 by @yoonia
⟶ Author Notes | I know that this is so late, but December has always been a rough month for me and this time it continued until January. I hope you can still enjoy this story regardless. Happy belated holidays and happy new year, my loves!
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⟶ Jingle All the Way collab masterlist | A Christmas Fix: next chapter ⇢
⟶ Main Masterlist | Taglist | Feedback | Mailbox | Ko-fi
⟶ Read on AO3
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One month ago…
You already had everything perfectly planned out when you first thought of this trip some long months ago. 
Everything. 
From your personal bucket list full of wonderful things that you wanted to experience during your time away and the places that you wanted to see, down to the smallest details that you could possibly think of to be able to enjoy every single moment of your secret getaway.
Just like the red dress that you had chosen to wear tonight. The dress you had meticulously picked and bought to wear on the trip as you went to celebrate your newfound freedom. 
In your well-thought-out plan, you were supposed to have landed on the tropical island you were headed to by sundown. The warm tropical breeze should have been embracing you at the start of your trip instead of the cold, chilly wind flowing right outside these walls. 
By this evening, you should have already settled in nicely in the comfort of your hotel room right by the beachside. The calming sound of the rushing waves outside your window was the sound that you should have been listening to while resting from your long flight. 
You had pictured yourself embracing your freedom in a foreign land. To feel the soft sand slipping between your toes as you were playing chase with the rushing waves, and to find calmness that you could only get far away from the treacherous city where you came from. 
The trip was meant to help you mend your soul. Perfectly planned out as an escape from reality and leave all of your past hurt behind before starting a new chapter of your life. 
And yet, no matter how thoroughly you had it all planned out, somehow life simply found a way to mess it all up. Just like how it had always been. So perhaps you shouldn’t have been so surprised when it happened to you again, just when you thought that you had everything under control. 
You should have seen the signs long before everything started crumbling down.
The sky that kept growing darker ever since you left the city. The constant turbulences happening during your first flight that made the trip feel intense. The unsettling feeling you met the moment you landed in this place for your transit. The constant announcements echoing through the airport about flights that were getting delayed and cancelled while you were getting no news about your transit flight’s departure. 
You should have been prepared to face reality, keeping in mind that life hadn’t been so nice to you lately to let you slip away that easily. Yet your stubbornness prevailed. And after your most recent predicament, you needed this trip to happen. You needed to be right. 
After all, you have made it all the way here. It would have been impossible for you to return home, wouldn’t it?
So you remained in denial and were so stubbornly holding onto hope that you would soon be taken away from this place towards your dream destination. Even when the world around you seemed to be falling apart. 
But after long hours of waiting, you were finally forced to accept your fate, letting go of any hope you had left to escape this place when they officially cancelled the rest of today’s flights due to unresolved weather issues. Including yours.
“I’m sorry, but we really can’t promise you anything at this moment. There will be no flights until the storm passes and our pilots are cleared to fly again. Until then, we have nothing to tell you.” 
The staff’s swift response to your inquiries about getting on the first flight available to take you to your destination only left you with a dead end. Even flying back home was no longer an option, only because that would only mean that you were admitting defeat. 
And that was how you ended up here tonight, stranded right between the daunting city that you called home and the paradise that you wished to be in until an unforeseeable future. Your dream of enjoying the night in the comfort of the beachside hotel room overlooking the wide, clear ocean, had been replaced with the reality where you had to spend overnight at the airport’s transit hotel that the airline staff helped book for you. 
You released a sigh as you leaned back against the elevator wall. Recounting the events again only brought back all the terrible mood you were having. And it didn’t help that the last message that your roommate sent you only reminded you of your setback. 
From Skye: Just checking on you on your secret getaway. I hope you’re having a blast right now. I wish you’d tell me where you’re heading so I can have a good reason to be jealous. Be safe!
Another sigh came from your lips as you wondered—
Now how am I supposed to answer her text? 
Before you could find an answer, the elevator doors opened as it reached the lobby downstairs. You put away your phone as you stepped out, and immediately got lost in your thoughts. Your mind once again getting too loud as it keeps you company. 
At first, you had no intention of hiding this trip from her. Yet all the circumstances leading to this weekend had made it hard for you to share anything to anyone.
You were planning to wait until you were finally there so you could surprise her with pictures from the beautiful beach or your comfortable hotel room. Showing her the pretty nighttime scene from the tropical island would have been a nice way to flaunt your secret getaway rather than boasting it when your fate had been filled with uncertainty. 
But instead of having an evening walk down the beach, you were trudging across the lobby inside an airport hotel, accompanied by the sound of your heels clicking on the marble floors instead of having sand soiling your feet. 
And the view outside the window that you got to see earlier had been nowhere close to the pretty beach with its white sand and rolling waves. Instead, you had a clear view of the dark night sky, painted with the raging storm and its blaring thunders so strong they almost caused the entire bedroom to shake. Neither showed any sign of calming down any time soon, leaving you with no other choice but to do what you could to enjoy your temporary stay.
And you were going to start doing so by having a quick drink to help you unwind for the night. 
The red dress that you were wearing might seem a bit excessive for a nightcap, but for a short while, it helped you forget where you were. It felt almost as if you were walking in a dream as you strolled down the lower lobby in search of the hotel bar. 
Entering the hotel bar, however, became another wake-up call. 
The bar was quite large for a transit hotel, accommodating the patrons filling the place tonight. You had hoped that you could have a dance or two with a friendly stranger before retreating to your hotel room to rest, yet the closed-off lounge area had more space filled with box seats than the open dance floor. The seating area was the only place in the bar which was dimly lit, allowing the guests some privacy while they settled in with their drinks. 
The small chandeliers glittering from the ceiling were far from the hanging lights that you pictured hanging in a beachside bar. Just like the one place you had seen pictures of while planning for your trip. The lights you were seeing here made the entire space beneath seem luxurious, spreading a soft golden glow over the wary faces trying to enjoy the night. 
The pulsing bass that came out of the speakers was enough to drown the sound of the violent storm happening on the other side of these walls, further helping to create an illusion that you were in another place. That you were somewhere else instead of being stranded inside an airport hotel, together with all the strangers who seemed to be facing the same fate as you did. 
You made your way towards the main bar, suddenly feeling hyperaware of your surroundings. Even without looking, you could feel people’s eyes following your movements. Yet you paid no heed to them. You were only here to quiet down the raging storm happening inside your head, after all. 
A strong scent of old wood took over the bar area. Mixed in with the excessive scent of air fresheners and cleaners, it was enough to remind you that you were miles and miles away from the beautiful island where you had been so desperate to be. 
Smoothing your palms down your red dress, you took one empty seat at the bar. You caught the bartender’s eyes as he walked past, and within moments, a glass of strawberry daiquiri ended up in your hand. 
This feels nice, you wondered to yourself as you sat back and tried to relax.
One sip of the sweet alcoholic drink was all that it took to refresh your mind. As the warmth from your drink ran smoothly through your body, any doubt and wariness you felt began to fade. 
The next sip of the drink managed to ease your thoughts down a bit more. It helped push away the reminders of your troubles to the back of your mind. Finding calmness, you took another quick look at your surroundings.
The seating lounge seemed to be filled with guests more than the main bar was. Stranded travellers like yourself. At first glance, the nicely dressed men in suits made it seem like you were in a bar downtown. As if they were nothing more than a group of businessmen seeking leisure on a Friday night with drinks. 
It only took you looking a few seats away from them for the illusion to shatter. Your eyes fell on a group of men and women wearing their summer clothing who were making a toast, acting as if they were at the peak of their vacation. 
Looking at the scene made you realise that you weren’t the only one feeling miserable tonight. You wondered just how badly these people here needed to forget. How many of them here might be similar to you, stranded in an unexpected situation while trying to escape reality? 
You raised your glass to hide your bitter smile. The smooth liquid continued to flow through your body and you slowly began to find some peace of mind. Before you knew it, you had finished your drink, though you weren’t exactly ready to return to your cold bedroom. 
“Can I order you another glass of drink?” 
A deep voice invaded your senses after a long period of silence, and it was coming from your side. You had been far too deep in your reverie that you didn’t even realise that someone had taken the empty seat right beside you at the bar. 
Curious to see this friendly stranger, you slowly turned around to look at him. And what you saw in him nearly took your breath away. 
A tall, lean man was sitting there. His slick hair had a few curls at the end of each strands, and he had combed them back, leaving nothing more than a few stands framing his handsome face that looked almost as if it had been sculpted by the fine hands of masters in art. His sharp nose and jawline drew your attention, while his deep and soulful eyes that appeared like pools of rich mahogany drew you in, as if he was hiding a story behind his intense gaze. But it was his plump lips that formed into a smile which caught your eyes the most.
At your silence that stretched out while you were busy being captivated by him, he raised his eyebrows. It made you realise that he was waiting for your answer. An answer to a question that you had so obviously missed. 
“I’m sorry?” 
He tilted his chin to point at your now empty glass. “You look like you could use another glass, and I’d love to get one for you,” he said with an amused tone of voice. 
Once again, his deep, velvety voice hit you deeply. It resonated through your body, and a shudder ran down your spine. You refused to believe that he was able to cause this effect on you solely through his voice or his pretty smile. 
But how else would you explain the reaction that was drawn from your body? 
I don’t think I’m that drunk already, you wondered.
It was probably the way he spoke to you which affected you so much. The way he was asking a question with pure confidence. As if he already knew your answer, and that it would be impossible for you to refuse his offer. 
And he wasn’t completely wrong about it. 
What remained from your sullen mood immediately shifted in his presence. And while you have no intention of turning him down, you decided that you were not going to make things easy for him. 
“An interesting offer that seems like such a waste for me to refuse,” you sweetly said to him, smiling as your eyes fell on his empty hands. “But how would a woman feel at ease to accept such an offer from a man who isn’t even holding a glass in his hand?” 
He squinted his eyes at you, which only made his gaze feel more intense. “Are you afraid that I might be planning to get you drunk?” 
You softly laughed. “Not sure if I should be so worried about that. Getting drunk tonight has always been my initial plan all along,” you coyly said, hiding the fact that it was never your intention to get wild tonight. But his appearance intrigued you enough to change your mind about ending the night so soon.  
The mysterious man remained oblivious to this as he laughed with you. His wide, almost boxy grin mesmerised you in an instant and you were once again left speechless. 
He waved his hand to grab the bartender’s attention. It was nothing more but a simple gesture, yet you were somewhat drawn to it. To him.  
While he greeted the bartender, you took the chance to have a better look at this man. You noticed that he was a bit different compared to the other men that you saw around you earlier. 
Dressed in a black jacket over his plain white shirt, he didn’t seem as sophisticated as the stranded businessmen in their flashy suits sitting together at the bar’s lounge. Yet he had a different level of confidence which was enough to make your cheeks feel warm. 
In your eyes, he was alluring, almost as intensely as the dark storm happening outside. And you couldn’t resist being pulled towards him. 
“Another glass of the same drink for the lady and a glass of grasshopper for me,” he smoothly spoke as he ordered the drinks for you.
The bartender nodded and went to work, while you slid closer to him. His fresh-scented cologne immediately hit you, and your confidence nearly wavered that you almost slid back. But then he caught you with his gaze as he turned back to you, giving you the kind of attention which boosted every bit of ego you had. 
“So you also prefer something light and sweet. How intriguing,” you teased him, bringing back his alluring grin. 
“Why do you think I came here to join you? It was obviously for the fruity drinks and to have someone to drink it together with,” he joked.
You rolled your eyes at him and smiled. Before you got to say something in return, the bartender came back with his order. The man took a sip of his drink first before you took yours. Once again, the sweetness from your drink swirled through your body, chipping away at the tension that had been weighing you down ever since the day’s saga began. 
“To be honest, I also thought that you were looking a bit rough.” His remark brought your attention back to him. The tease was gone from his voice. All that was left was a gentle concern that seemed genuine. “And you looked like you needed a friend. That’s why I invited myself to join you.” 
It makes you feel uneasy to think that you were being so transparent. So much so that a complete stranger like himself was able to see right through you. 
“You think so? Wait until you hear how rough I’m feeling inside as well,” you bitterly said to him, drawing a soft smile to his face. 
“That makes the two of us then,” he said to you gently with his eyes on his glass of drink. There was a forlorn look in his eyes as he slowly twirled the glass, causing the liquid to swish around before he took another sip from it. 
“Care to share?” you questioned him before you could stop yourself, only to pull yourself back. “Sorry, that sounds creepy. We just met and here I am, prying into someone else’s business,” you nervously laughed.  
His gaze softened when he looked at you. Furthermore, he also seemed intrigued. 
“No, not at all.” His voice was calm, and it somehow helped to calm your nerves. “I was just about to lend an ear in case you needed someone to vent to. I never expected that you would be a step ahead of me before I could make the offer.” 
The comment he gave you made you feel warm inside. 
“Mine’s a long story,” you bitterly said to him as you raised your glass, almost giving in to the urge to take a hefty drink and finish it off when everything started coming back to you again.
The reason behind this trip, why you were stranded here on your own, while being far, far away from home, and all the drama that had gotten in the way when you had been so desperate to get away from everything. 
Unsurprisingly, the man merely shrugged. “I’ve got time to spare. My flight won’t leave until tomorrow. And that is if they’re allowed to fly out of here at all.” 
You smiled at him. “Same here. I guess we’re both stranded here all night, huh?” 
He leaned in just then, invading your personal space and filling it with his presence. And you didn’t even mind it as you leaned into him, meeting him halfway to welcome him into your little safety bubble. 
“And I was worried that I might get stuck feeling lonely while being stranded in this place,” he gently murmured, drawing a smile to your face.  
“I doubt that you would end up alone tonight,” you teased him, simply because there was no possible way that someone as attractive as he was would be returning to his hotel bedroom alone. 
His smile grew, yet the deep, dark look in his eyes shifted into something else. Something naughty and sinful. It made you feel a new sensation brewing inside even without him ever having to touch you. 
“Is that an invitation?” he asked with his deep voice that came grazing at your skin. 
Normally, you wouldn’t know what to say in return. It had been so long since you played this kind of game with someone. With anyone. But his presence and his words were drawing something out of you. A part of you that you never thought existed. And you surprised yourself when you played along, taunting danger head-on as you challenged this handsome stranger before you— 
“Would you like it to be?” 
Something flashed in his eyes. It was dark and intense, and it was sucking you in. It brought a myriad of sensations that unexpectedly went straight down to your core. 
In the deep silence that fell right after, the world around you faded. Even before you got to know his name, before you had the chance to share your story, you already knew the answer that he was about to give you as a response to your question. 
And you also knew right then, that the sparks that came rising around you were something that you would never be able to easily forget, even if every bit of memory you had about him would fade over time. 
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Present…
Why do I keep thinking about that night all over again?
You can only wonder, as you keep being reminded of that eventful night. 
Weeks, nearly a month have gone by ever since, yet the memories seem to have been engraved deeply in your thoughts. And today, even though you haven’t really been thinking about it since, you suddenly find yourself having no trouble recounting everything that happened then. 
Well, almost everything. 
Some parts may seem blurry now. All due to the passing of time and the fact that you were partly inebriated at the time. But you can still recall some parts of the night that had clearly left a strong impression on you—the first encounter and the conversation you shared before alcohol took over, the instant attraction that you felt, but most of all, his entire presence. 
And they all have been coming into your thoughts while you are sitting here in the corner of your bathroom. Alone. With your arms wrapped around your folded knees and your eyes closed. As if you are waiting for a miracle to happen. 
You scoff at the thought. 
Right. Miracles. 
Years have long passed since you stopped believing that miracles do exist. Life always has its way of blindsiding you with its twists and turns that miracles no longer seem to matter anymore. 
Not for you, at least. 
Your past experiences have only caused you to look at it with sceptical eyes, sometimes even with bitterness, knowing that life has never been on your side. 
But here you are now, wishing, praying, holding onto hope that there would be a miracle to stop you from getting into a messy situation. One that you know you wouldn’t be able to handle on your own. 
After all, the perfect season of miracles is right around the corner. So it wouldn’t be so wrong for you to have some faith in them again now, would it? 
Your phone starts blaring with the sound of the alarm, snapping you out of it. Slowly, you rise on your wobbly feet. It feels as if your entire body has grown numb even before you get to face reality as it comes glaring back at you. 
Clutching onto the edges of your bathroom counter, you try to hold yourself together, and immediately failing, as you look at the two thin white strips lying on the cold counter and feel your entire world tilting off of its axis. 
All because of the two red lines that are clearly visible on each strip.
“Oh, fuck,” you softly groan. Deep down, you had already predicted this. Yet you kept denying it, hoping that you would be wrong.
“No, no, no—” you continue murmuring to yourself while wishing that you could somehow turn back time and change everything before things started going the wrong way. 
Back to this morning, when your roommate caught you—once again—throwing up last night’s dinner before handing you the unopened pregnancy test packs that she has been keeping safe in her room with the premise, “Just in case.” 
Or maybe you could return to last night when she pointed out your odd cravings—like dipping apples into peanut butter and eating leftover mac and cheese straight from the fridge without warming it in the microwave first—and joked about how you have been acting like a pregnant woman with your mood swings. 
Better yet, you wish you could go back to that night, back to that many weeks ago, when you allowed yourself to fall for a stranger’s charm which led you to spend the night with him. 
You close your eyes, once again murmuring to yourself, “This has got to be a dream.” 
But the moment you open your eyes again, nothing has changed. You are still standing there with your hands holding tightly onto the edges of the bathroom counter. And the two pregnancy test kits that you used are still lying on top of the counter for your eyes to see. 
A rapid sound of knocking on the bathroom door sends you jumping back. 
“Hey, ______? Is everything okay?” you hear your roommate, Skye, calling out for you. Her voice seems calm, yet when you recall hearing the sound of her footsteps moving back and forth outside of the door while you were taking the test, you know that she has been waiting just as anxiously as you were. “So—? What does it say?” 
Still in shock, and quite stuck in denial, you open your mouth only to have no words coming out of you. Your brain feels a bit hazy as you walk up to the door and open it for her. 
Skye takes one look at your face and her gaze softens. “What did it—” She shakes her head. “Oh, never mind, I’m dying to know. Let me see it,” she says as she brushes past you before you can say anything. 
Hoping that there is a chance that reality can change within the next few seconds, you refuse to turn around and once again close your eyes while she suddenly grows quiet.
Maybe you were just imagining things. Maybe you weren’t even looking at the test properly. Maybe—
“So, uhm—” you can hear Skye’s voice trembling a little as she hesitantly asks you, “Two lines mean it’s positive, is that right?” 
And just like that, every bit of hope you have in you flies out the window. “I wish I could say that it’s the other way around,” you softly murmur, feeling defeated. 
And the feeling grows stronger when you hear her cursing under her breath,
“Well, fuck.”
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“What are you doing?” you ask Skye as you gingerly take a seat on the sofa. 
Once you both stepped away from the bathroom, she guided you to the living room while she sauntered away to the kitchen without a word. You can hear the noises she makes as she is busy rummaging through the counters. Yet you are too far away to see what she is up to. 
“Hang on a minute. Stay there,” she calls out without even looking. 
“Okay.” 
It’s not like you have any energy to go anywhere, after all. Your head is still spinning and you can barely feel your legs. It feels as if you are stuck in a bad dream and you just can’t get out of it. 
It doesn’t take long before Skye returns to your side, carrying with her two clean tall glasses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. It was the same bottle that you opened when you celebrated your promotion a couple of weeks ago after coming back from the trip. 
Holy shit, you inwardly cry out. Your heartbeat rises as your hands find their way to your stomach. 
“Okay, let’s try to calm down,” Skye says to you as she places both glasses on the table before you, although it seems to you more as if she is talking to herself instead of reassuring you while you are panicking inside.
A couple of weeks ago? Wouldn’t I have been already pregnant then? 
These thoughts keep running through your head as you watch your roommate pouring wine into both glasses, just like the night she did the same when you first opened that same bottle. 
Dear God, how much did I drink that night? You ask yourself with a grimace as you try to remember. 
Wait, no. I didn’t drink anything, you remind yourself. Relief washes over you look back at the celebration night where you barely took a sip before Skye took the glass away from your hands. 
Because you were already feeling sick that day. 
You had been feeling nauseous for days, throwing up once in a while and mostly on the days when you were lacking sleep because of the workload you had to handle for the upcoming promotion. All you ever did was wet your lips with the wine after the celebratory toast. That was the only contact you made with the drink before Skye replaced it with a tall glass of alcohol-free smoothie that she made especially for your ‘upset stomach’.
Of course, how did I not see the signs? You wonder again as you remember the sickly feeling you had after vomiting each morning and feeling powerless for the rest of the day. It even got so bad that you had to skip work for a couple of days at the beginning of your ‘sickness’. 
If only you knew then. 
Your eyes are still on the wine glasses as Skye places them side by side and puts away the bottle. 
“Uh—I believe we both just saw the two lines appearing on the test packs.” 
She lets out a light scoff and waves her hand at you. “They're both for me. I’m going to need them while I process this,” she says, shaking her head as she sits down to join you on the sofa. “You get to keep that smoothie.” 
You follow her gaze and look down at the glass of smoothie that you left on the table during the whole fiasco with the pregnancy test. While you pick up your drink, Skye takes a hefty drink from one of the glasses of wine and sits back. 
“So—you’re pregnant,” she murmurs to herself. Her gaze flickers to your face for a brief moment and nods to herself before taking another drink. 
Why does it seem like she is the one panicking? 
She releases a sigh. Neither of you says anything for a moment. But you can tell when she grows more anxious by the minute. You don’t understand why, until she carefully asks you, “Are you going to tell Han?” 
Confused, you look at her with your brows furrowed and ask, “Why would I tell Han that I’m pregnant?” 
Skye looks genuinely confused, almost as much as you are, and you only realise the reason why when she asks you, “Isn’t Hansol the father? You guys have been dating for a long time and I can’t remember ever seeing you with anyone else while you’re on a break.” 
You wince, realising too late that you have yet to tell her the truth.
“Actually—we’re not on a break,” you slowly admit with a low voice. Months have gone by, and even though it no longer hurts whenever you start thinking about your failed relationship or to mention your ex’s name, you cannot help but still feel bitter about how it ended and you hate talking about it. 
That is the reason why you haven’t said anything about it to anyone. Maybe you were just too embarrassed. After all, it isn’t so easy to admit that you may have been the reason why the four-year relationship fell into pieces. 
“I lied,” you say with a burst of deep sigh, “It was over, done, finished—”
“So you already broke up?” she cuts you off with a calm voice. 
You bite your bottom lip as you slowly nod your head. “Yeah,” you whisper, suddenly feeling like your throat is tightening up. Not because you feel the sudden urge to cry. But only because this is all becoming too much to take at once.  
“And the baby?” she carefully asks you. “It wasn’t Han—” 
“The baby isn’t his,” you quickly answer before she even gets to question about it. 
It’s hard enough to hear his name being mentioned after a while. It feels harder to think that you might be carrying his baby. 
But the moment those words come out of your lips, reality finally sinks in. Grabbing the glass of your drink, you take a hefty drink out of it. You wish there was some alcohol in this thing. Maybe it would have helped you think more clearly. 
That’s right. It couldn’t have been his.
Sighing to yourself, you begin to do the math. “We’ve been broken up for months, so if the baby is his, I’m sure I would be showing already by this time around,” you say this while gently rubbing your palm over your stomach. 
Now that your suspicions have been confirmed, the gesture feels almost natural to you that your hand simply moves before you realise it, though it helps confirm that nothing much has changed with your body.
It feels odd to think that there is a life existing inside you, yet you cannot really see it with just one look. This convinces you further that the baby couldn’t have been conceived while you were still dating your ex. Looking back to it now, once you remember when exactly the sickness and craving started, it would only make sense that the baby was conceived on that specific night. 
“So—if Hansol isn’t the Dad, then who was it?” 
Biting your lip, you turn to look at Skye. Of course, if there is anyone in this world that you can talk to about this, it would only be her. Just like how she would come to you first whenever she is in a bind, whether it’s about her relationships, about work, or even the smallest things like having a bad day where you end up sharing a tub of ice cream to feel better. 
After all, she isn’t just a roommate, but also someone you have known the longest compared to the other friends you’ve made since moving into this city. You have known each other since college, since back in freshman year when both of you were nothing more but young kids from small towns being thrust into the big city. 
Being put together in the same dorm room led you to become fast friends. After years of enduring the same hardship in college, the two of you remained so close that you even moved to this city together and continued to live in the same place to keep each other company. 
You have gone through everything with her, and you have always been honest with each other. It should have been easy to tell her everything. If only you could find the right words to begin sharing your story. 
“I have no idea where to start.” 
“Well,” Skye patiently says while twirling the glass of wine she’s holding. You squint your eyes at her when you find it almost empty. So unfair. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?” 
“Right. From the beginning,” you say this with a nod. “Do you remember when I went away last month?” 
She nods. “Your secret getaway. Still jealous of that, by the way.” 
You give her a small smile. “Yeah, well—there’s a reason why I insisted on going alone on that trip. I actually planned it as a surprise vacation for me and Hansol. The original idea was for us to have a romantic getaway for our fourth anniversary.” 
Skye raises her eyebrows. “Well, damn,” she mutters. “Let me guess. You broke up before it happened?” 
You grimace as you recall what happened. “Close enough,” you answer with a bitter smile. “It was because of the trip that we got a huge fight in the first place.” 
Skye tilts her head. “I’m not following.” 
Sighing, you drink your smoothie to cool down and swallow the bitter feeling you are suddenly getting. Recounting the break-up isn’t so much fun to do. Not even after this long. 
“I planned the entire thing on my own. Booked the flight and the hotel, and rearranged our schedules to fit each other so we could go on that exact date. But I never shared anything with him, except to confirm that it was a place that he also dreamt of going so we could both enjoy it together.” You let out a defeated sigh. “I wanted it to be a surprise. He used to love those in the past, so I figured it could be fun to celebrate our anniversary this way and get away from all the stress both of us had been getting.” 
You stop talking for a moment to remember those days. Both you and Hansol had been so busy back then that you could barely spend time with each other. 
It was the exact routine every day. Having long hours in the office and since you weren’t living together, you could only keep in contact with each other through texts and calls. By the time the two of you were able to see each other, all the stress had been piling up that you were almost always arguing and fighting instead of making up for all the time you missed while being apart. 
“We were talking about moving in together but all of a sudden, we stopped discussing it and I could feel us growing further apart. I thought going away from all the stress for a while would help us get along and make up for all the fighting. Maybe we could have had a chance to talk things out and figure out what to fix.” 
You stop with a soft sigh. “We were getting bored. With work, with life, and maybe we did get bored with each other but neither of us could open up about it, much less admit it. Not even to ourselves.” 
Skye lets out a groan. “This is why I don’t do relationships,” she mutters before finishing her drink. The first glass. With the second one waiting on the table.
You give her a scoff, but smile at her comment before continuing, “He found out about the trip by chance. I was still logged in on his laptop after I borrowed it to check on my work email while I was staying over on the weekend. He accidentally opened the booking details when he was checking his email, thinking it was his account. He suspected me of planning to go with someone else, but even after I told him that the trip was for both of us, he wasn’t having it.” 
Skye leans forward when she hears this. “Wait, he’s pissed about a secret vacation?” she asks, looking unhappy and confused at the same time. You can’t really blame her. Because that is exactly how you feel about your ex’s reaction. “Why would he be? If it had been me, I would’ve been ecstatic about going.” 
“I wish I knew,” you groan, feeling just as frustrated as you had been then. “But he wasn’t just refusing to go. He started blaming me. Saying something about me holding him back or something. He said he had no time for a trip when he needed to be there and work for his promotion.” 
Thinking back to that day, remembering about the fight and the things you said to each other, you are reminded of the moment the fight left your body. Because you knew then that there was nothing left to fight over. 
“He never even brought up the fact that it was the date of our anniversary. I don’t think he even knew or remembered it,” you say with a bitter chuckle. “He broke it off, saying that he wanted to focus on his career and I would be keeping him behind. And I agreed because I knew that we’d wound up hurting each other if we’d stayed.” 
“I can understand that,” Skye gently says. The two of you share a sad smile when your eyes meet. “And you still went on that trip,” she guesses, sounding proud. She lifts her glass to you and says, “Good girl.” 
You merely shrug. “When I went to cancel the tickets for the trip, I thought it would be such a waste to throw everything away. So I decided that going solo would be a good idea and kept mine. Besides, I needed a moment to heal myself and get away from the city for a short while.” 
She laughs, agreeing with you. Then, just as she is about to say something, she suddenly stops. A knowing look comes across her gaze and she slowly gasps. “Don’t tell me—” she says, “You met someone while you were there.” 
You nod your head slowly and press your lips together. “Once again, you’re close. But that’s not exactly what happened.” Blowing out a deep breath, you slowly ask her, “Remember when I told you that I got held up for a day in transit?” 
“Yeah, I was so jealous of you that I still remember everything you told me about that trip,” she lets out a dreamy sigh, then her gaze snaps back at you. “But, it seems to me that you haven’t told me everything about the trip.” 
“No, I didn’t.” You grimace. “Anyway, that’s when I met him—” 
The memories return to you again as you share with your roommate about your encounter with the beautiful stranger. You remember vividly the way he spoke, the deep and gentle voice that he spoke to you with, and his captivating smile that made you swoon. Everything about him that made it hard for you to leave and say goodbye to him. 
You recount the way you enjoyed each other’s company that even after your terrible mood gradually became much better, and after you finished yet another drink, you simply couldn’t walk away and end the night with him so soon. You stayed longer, losing count of the time you spent with him and the drinks you had. 
“And then, one thing led to another, it just happened.” 
Skye’s eyes have grown so wide at this point, and her jaw has dropped in her surprise that she looks almost comical. “You hooked up with a stranger during your transit?” she asks you. The moment you nod your head, she switches her empty glass with the other. “I would drink to that.” 
You laugh just as she takes a hefty drink as if celebrating on your behalf. “Why do you sound so proud of me?” 
“Well,” she slowly starts, “We’ve known each other for so long. You have always been so put together, always followed the rules, and you are always so good at what you do. From school, to work, even the little things you have been doing on the side. But not when it comes to your sex life.” 
You know that she is right about everything. But it doesn’t stop you from picking up a cushion and hitting her with it. 
“Hey, you know I’m right,” she says while laughing and protecting the precious glass of wine. “Come on, you’ve never had any casual relationships or random hookups, and every chance I could have gotten to hook you up with my guy friends was gone when Hansol came into the picture.” 
Pouting, you pull the cushion back and hold it tightly in your arms. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you admit with a sigh. “How do you get to know me so well?” 
“That’s because I love you enough to pay attention,” she smugly says while waving her glass around, sloshing the wine everywhere. “Why do you think I’ve been so protective of you over the years?” 
You roll your eyes and hit her with the cushion one last time, making her laugh, even though she is right. For as long as you have been friends with her, she has always been like an older sister to you. Not only for coming hard like a shield against the guys you ever introduced her to but also for the trivial things that not many people would pay much attention to. 
Like reminding you to eat properly when you are stressed out or too busy with work and school. 
You feel bad for relying on her so much over the years. But you also feel grateful about it. Just like how you’re feeling right now once you notice that you’re no longer feeling as stressed as you had earlier once you’re done dumping everything to her. 
Skye’s eyes turn back to you, landing on your covered belly as she curiously asks, “Are you positively sure that Hansol wasn’t the father?” 
You slowly nod your head. As much as you wish that you were wrong, you couldn’t have been mistaken about this.
“What are the odds that it was a false positive?” you suddenly question her, while she shrugs. 
“It’s possible,” she says. “But we can get some more test kits and redo the test. Just in case. Or you could make an appointment with the doctor straight away to make sure.” 
“Right, the doctor—” You let out a soft sigh and close your eyes briefly. It has been a while since you’ve seen your physician. The last time was before—
Oh, shit. 
Your eyes snap open right then. How long ago has it been since you’ve gone to see your physician? The last time was when you went to your regular appointment for your birth control. But that felt so long ago. 
Long before the trip. 
After that appointment, and once the break-up happened, you simply threw yourself into work so much you completely forgot about everything else. And since you were newly single, getting your birth control was the last thing you had in mind at the time. 
Fuck me, you inwardly groan without saying a thing to your roommate who is busy chattering about the doctor, making appointments, and offering to take you there herself. You know that she would lecture you about safe sex like a mother hen if you ever share this with her.
But wait…he wore a condom, right? Yes, you are quite sure he did. The details are blurry when you try to remember, but you do remember protection being involved. 
Groaning to yourself, you fall back on the sofa. Your head starts spinning again when you start worrying about other things. Once you start thinking of a problem that you may have to face, another one comes to mind. 
“What am I supposed to do with this baby?”  
Skye once again raises her eyebrows at you. “I think the right question should be what do you want to do?” she asks, while you can only shake your head.
“I don’t know,” you answer with a small voice. The only thing you can think of right now is how you are going to get through this holiday while being pregnant. You are supposed to be home for Christmas in two weeks, and knowing just how crazy your family truly is, you cannot imagine how they would react if they found out you are with a child. 
You close your eyes and let out a sigh. “And my family still have no idea that I broke up with Han.” 
“For once, I’m not jealous of your life,” Skye says as she sips her wine. But she is ready for it when you fling the cushion back at her and avoid it without spilling her drink. “Don’t worry. I think they’ll catch on about your failed relationship as soon as you walk into your family home without that hunk by your side.” 
Huffing, you hug the cushion in your arms and lean back. “I guess if they’re going to find out either way, I might as well just tell them the moment I got home.” 
Besides, it might be even harder to hide the fact that you are pregnant. You might not be showing yet, but there is no possible way you could avoid the questions that may come if you are still feeling so sick right in front of your family, or if your cravings suddenly get out of hand. 
Especially if Honey is there. Despite the early signs of dementia showing on her lately, your grandmother has always been so perceptive. And there is no telling what random things she may blurt out once she has some rum in her system. 
With so many different things to think about, you almost forget one important matter that you should be thinking about when it comes to the baby. And just like always, Skye is there to remind you of it. 
“Do you remember his name?” 
You turn to Skye with wide eyes, suddenly panicking inside. You can tell that she can see it on your face and is now sharing the same feeling when she suddenly knocks back the rest of her wine and groans, “Fuck, I’m gonna need more.” 
You watch her pour more wine into her glass, hastily drinking it right after, before turning to you again. “You didn’t get his name? At least tell me that you got his number before you went separate ways.”
You bite your lips. “It’s Tae.” 
“Tae—what?” 
You shake your head. “That’s it,” you let out a frustrated sigh. “That was the only name he ever gave me.” 
“Seriously?” 
Skye is freaking out, you can tell. But you close your eyes and rest your head back, shutting everything down as she starts ranting about how she was supposed to teach you better about hooking up with strangers and keeping yourself safe. 
With her voice turning into white noise at the back of your mind, your memories return to you, taking you back to the eventful night. 
You can almost feel yourself being back there again—back in the cold hotel bar with the scent of old wood and liquor lingering in the air; the murmuring sounds of people chatting and laughing, accompanied by the sound of glasses clinking together resonating through the space around you; back to his presence that felt so strong and intense you could barely feel anything else other than him as long as you had your attention fully on him.
“What’s your name?” You remember him asking you with his voice that grew more gentle and deeper the more he drank. 
You leaned into him and giggled in response as if he just said something funny to you. “Does it really matter?” 
His soft chuckle rumbled around you. The voice was so soft, yet you could hear it clearly because of how close you were leaning into him. “I’m sure I remember being taught not to talk to strangers.” 
“Are you telling me that you’ve been a good boy for listening to what your Mom taught you?” you teased him. It was obvious how tipsy you were at this point, which may have been the reason why you were growing more confident. 
“Oh, I’ve always been a good boy,” he answered you while looking amused. He went silent right after. His gaze seemed far away just for a fleeting moment before he finally said, “My name is Tae.” 
“Tae? That’s it?” you asked, “Is that a codename or something?” You feigned a surprise gasp before you leaned into him further to whisper, “Are you secretly a spy?” 
You felt his chest rumbling when he softly laughed. “Something like that, yeah,” he said, as he played along with your joke. 
But the moment you leaned away from him, you were surprised when you got to see something in him that you couldn’t see before. His guard was down, allowing you to see the vulnerability that was buried deep under his suave and smooth talking. 
For a brief moment, he looked broken. Just like you did. 
And from the way he was hiding himself, not only under the short nickname but also from the way he was masking his emotions, you could tell that he was looking for an escape from reality. The same way you did that night. 
So you simply smiled at him, choosing not to pry further to see beyond the mask and play along. Because at the same time, you wanted to hide your broken heart and become someone else to be able to forget everything. Just for one night. 
“Then you can call me Red. It’s my special codename for tonight.” 
His grin widened. You could almost see the relief washing over him through his warm gaze when he looked at you.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you tonight,” he said, still with his gentle voice that almost felt like sin licking on your skin when he called you, “Red.” 
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Two weeks later…
“Here you go,” your mother’s voice snaps you from whatever stupor you have been stuck in. When you open your eyes, a glass of ginger tea has manifested right before you. 
“Drink this,” your Mom says as she points at the drink. “It should be good for your stomach.” 
Your breath gets caught in your throat. Furrowing your brows, you keep your eyes on the drink instead of reaching for it. Thoughts of those past mornings when you and Skye spent searching through the internet to find a way to get rid of your morning sickness come through your mind. 
Does she know? Did she figure it out already? Is it really that obvious? 
You clench your hands and resist the urge to rub against your stomach. It has become a habit of yours to rub around your belly as if trying to feel the baby that is hiding inside whenever you feel agitated.
After getting the positive results through the home test kits, you had gone straight to the doctor only days before you left the city to have it checked, confirming that a baby is growing inside you. It still feels unbelievable to think about it, even after you saw it yourself with your own eyes. 
“It’s still really early, and we might not be seeing much yet, but that’s your baby,” the doctor’s voice echoes through your mind as you tighten your clenched hands, thinking back to the day you went to have an ultrasound and saw for the first time the growing fetus that was said to be viable to grow fully as a baby. 
Just like how the baby inside you has been nothing more than a blob of mass floating inside your stomach in your mind, your belly itself has yet to change shape. Even if your full awareness of the baby’s presence has only been causing you to find small changes in your body that nobody else might be able to see. 
But Mom has been pregnant before, so wouldn’t she be able to see it? Will that be possible?
“Ginger tea is good for nausea and will give you some energy boost. Your grandma always made it for me whenever I had a stomach ache. I’m sure it’ll help get rid of your nausea and your upset stomach will turn better in no time.” Your Mom stops talking and sighs. “You should’ve told me that you were sick. I wouldn’t have let you drive all the way home if I had known.” 
Ah. 
You breathe a sigh of relief. You should be thankful that she believed you when you told her about having an upset stomach from the long drive home from the city. It was the only thing that you could think of as an excuse when your Mom wondered why you hadn’t been eating well since you got back home and why you were feeling sick.
It makes you wonder why you have been feeling unwell since you got home. Just when you had purposely waited until you were well enough and had stopped throwing up when you planned for the drive. 
It’s almost as if the baby is deliberately making you sick to let everyone know about your secret.
“Thanks, Mom,” you say to your Mom as you reach for the tea, hiding your relieved sigh as you gingerly drink in small sips. 
You have lost count of how many times Skye has made you this drink specifically to stop you from vomiting in the morning before going to work. It has been helping a lot to ease your ‘sickness’, and you are feeling it calming your stomach already as the drink warms your body. 
You can feel your mother’s eyes on you, making you feel uneasy to be under her watchful gaze. “I think it might be better if you get some rest and take things easy. But are you sure you’re okay?” your Mom asks again, still worrying about you. 
You continue drinking the ginger tea slowly while pressing down your guilt. You hate lying to your Mom the most, and now you are starting to regret driving home on your own. If the baby hadn’t been the one responsible for your current sickness, then perhaps driving the long distance has been the reason why your nausea is now coming back with a vengeance.
So much for trying to not draw any suspicions. 
“I’m fine, Mom. Really,” you sigh as you place the glass down. “The tea is helping me already. I’ll feel better soon, I promise.” 
Your Mom says nothing for a moment, but the crease you see forming on her forehead says differently. “I’m not just talking about you being sick. Maybe there’s another reason why you’re feeling faint?” 
You look up at her just then. The moment you catch the pitiful look she is giving you, you finally understand what she is trying to say. 
Just as Skye predicted, it didn’t take long for your family to take notice of your solo arrival. In the past, Hansol would have joined you to visit your family for a day or two during the holidays before he would return to his family on Christmas day. So his absence was quite obvious from the get-go. 
And with the big lie that you have to hide from everyone at home, you had to at least give them one honest truth the moment they started asking. 
“We ended things a few months ago,” you admitted to your family during the first dinner you had since you got home. By that time, you had already tried to avoid the questions for long enough. Nobody has brought up about it again since then. 
Until now. 
“If you’re talking about the breakup, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m okay, Mom. It’s been months since it happened. I’ve been trying to move one.” 
In fact, you haven’t been thinking about your ex at all for a long time. Not until you brought it up to Skye and then again when your family started questioning. The only thing you have been worrying about lately is the baby growing inside you and finding a way to search for the father of the baby. 
It was the one thing that you talked about with Skye before you left. While you are capable enough to raise the baby on your own, you decided it would be the best course of action to contact the father and let him know.
In Skye’s own words, “Just in case.” 
Just in case the father would care enough to know that he has a son or a daughter coming into this world and wants to be in their life. 
“But if we fail to find him or he wants nothing to do with the baby, then we’ll deal with it on our own. You just got your promotion, I got my good pay. We can raise the baby together. You and me, just like old times.”
Skye’s words put a smile on your face. She always knows how to lift your spirit up whenever you feel like giving up, and those exact words have helped boost your confidence and made you believe that you could get through this. 
But first, you just need to get through spending this holiday with your family. 
“I know you said that. But as your Mom, I can’t help but worry. I thought you were serious and we’ll be hearing some good news about you getting married this year.” 
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Sorry, Mom,” you tease her with a bitter chuckle. You don’t bother to mention that the two of you had never once talked about marriage throughout your relationship.
Yet another sign that you overlooked. At least you never got to waste anymore time with him.
“Things just didn’t work out between us. It happens when a couple grow into two different people in the course of their relationship. Which was exactly what happened to us. Hansol wanted to focus on his career, in return, I also got the chance to focus on mine.” 
Just as you said the words, you realise that this is true for your case. 
Hansol has always been career-driven, and it has been growing stronger lately for him with the constant rise he was experiencing in his current company. And breaking up with your long-time boyfriend has allowed you to turn your focus on your job. The recent promotion you gained was a testament to your hard work to show you that there might be a silver lining to everything that has happened. 
“I suppose you’re right,” your Mom says with a smile. You are beginning to feel a bit relieved that she seems to understand. You are hoping that she would start talking about something else when she adds, “I just feel sad that it didn’t work out for you. And we were all expecting to have Hansol joining us again this year. I guess it’s too late now to let your sister know about this since she’s supposed to arrive today.” 
Stepsister. 
You lift your glass and slowly drink your tea to stop yourself from correcting her. For some reason, you feel a bit bitter having your mother mention her all so suddenly. 
It isn’t that you hate your stepsister. It’s hard to feel something so extreme when you barely had any relationship with her at all. Back when you were younger, your mother did try to get you two to get along and be friends. 
To make her happy, you tried your best to act friendly, or at least to be cordial whenever she was around, even when the only thing she showed you over the years had been nothing but contempt. 
But things changed after a drunken fit that she had last holiday season, when she got drunk and tried to make a move and openly flirted with your then-boyfriend. Even if nothing ever came out of it except for her own embarrassment, as Hansol openly rejected her and stayed away from her for the remaining time he was here, the incident still left a bad taste that made you feel bitter. 
That was when you finally decided that you would stop trying to be nice.
You put down the glass and try to remain calm. What’s done is done. All you have to do is focus on getting through this holiday before going back to the city and start with your mission to search for the baby’s father.
“What does Alia have to do with my break up?” you ask your mother, hoping that she wouldn’t bring up the drama from last year. 
“Oh, it’s nothing serious, really,” your Mom answers with a soft chuckle, “It’s just that Alia called home sometime last week, asking if she could bring someone over this Christmas. She said that she’s been seeing someone new and since she was bringing him to meet her mother, she wondered if it would be okay if she could bring him along to meet us too.” 
Your Mom sighs, looking a bit guilty when she adds, “We figured since you might bring Hansol with you, it would be okay if she has her new boyfriend along. Maybe the guys could get along and spend time together while you and Alia catch up.” 
You try to imagine you and Alia catching up like old friends or—just like what your Mom has been wishing you to be—as sisters, and you almost shake your head. 
Yeah, that seems unlikely, you bitterly wonder to yourself, yet you don’t have the heart to tell your mother that there is not much hope for you and Alia to be good friends. 
“I guess it’s a shame that Hansol isn’t here,” you simply say to your mother while you inwardly wonder just what your stepsister is really up to this year. 
“Yeah, it’s unfortunate,” your mother says with a sigh. “But I’m glad that at least both of you girls can make it home this year.” 
“Me too, Mom,” you force a smile, silently hoping that you can start talking about something else. Something that doesn’t concern your bitter stepsister coming home or bringing up any dark thoughts about your ex. “So, what are we having for dinner? Want my help in the kitchen?” 
Your question immediately puts everything into motion, drifting her attention away from your sappy story and the false hope of sisterhood that may never happen between you and your stepsister. Your Mom tries to stop you from helping out in the kitchen at first but finally gives in when you keep insisting. 
At least, this way, you can keep your mind busy enough to stop it from thinking about unnecessary thoughts the way it often does when you are alone. 
Things seem to be going on well enough at first, until your sickness returns and you have to give up trying. 
”See, I told you that you should be resting until you feel better,” your mother complains as she watches you bending over, keeping away from the stove and what is currently cooking on top of it which seems to be making you feel dizzy and sick. 
After garlic, lemon-scented air freshener, and coconut milk, seems you are going to have to add raw chicken to the list of things that may trigger your nausea.
“But then I’ll be bored like hell,” you argue, “I’m fine, Mom. Just let me take a quick break for a minute.” 
Your mother looks as if she wants to say something, but the sound of a car coming into the driveway interrupts her. Both of you turn to look out towards the living room, just in time to see your stepfather, Cliff, turning in the corner of the hall and rushing towards the front door. 
“Honey, they’re here!” he calls out, and you urge your mother to join him. 
“Go, Mom. I’ll finish things up and make sure nothing gets burned before I join you guys.”
Once your mother is out of the kitchen, you can no longer resist pressing your palm on your stomach. 
“Seriously, baby,” you whisper to the non-existent bump under your sweater, “Please take it easy, will you? I’m really struggling here, and you’re not making things easy for me. Trust me, it would be too soon for everyone to find out about you. At least wait until we can find a clue about your Dad, okay?” 
As if the baby inside you is listening, even if it is still barely full-grown at this point, your body grows calmer and the nausea slowly wanes. 
“Thank you, baby,” you whisper to your stomach once again before finally focusing on the stove and the oven, deliberately taking your time with what you do just so you can have a reason not to join the dramatic reunion happening right this minute. 
From this side of the kitchen, the front door isn’t completely visible. But you can hear everything as the door opens and your stepfather joyfully welcomes his daughter. 
Hearing his voice makes you smile. You may have had a tumultuous relationship with your stepsister, but the same cannot be said with your stepfather. Cliff has always been a great role model, and your relationship with him has always been great from the start. 
It makes you feel guilty when you think about the previous encounters where you and your stepsister simply gave each other cold shoulders or when you were met with altercations just because of how different the two of you are. But there is no helping it. Nothing has changed over the years no matter how hard you tried. Not even once you have become adults. 
You can’t even remember how it first started. And frankly, you no longer care. Last year’s incident was already enough to let you know that the sisterhood that your parents have been forcing you into was beyond saving. 
The voices coming from the front door continue for a moment longer. This time, you get to hear your mother’s voice joining in the conversation and Alia’s soft voice answering her questions. You make no effort to listen to what they are saying and tune out their voices, until your mother’s voice calls out to you. 
“______, your sister is here. Come and say hi.” 
Your mother’s words make you stop. Slowly, you turn down the heat on the stove and turn to make your way towards the front door to join the family reunion. 
“It’s stepsister,” you mutter under your breath as you drag your feet, taking your sweet time while you try to compose yourself before having to face the unwanted guests. 
As you turn around the corner, merely moments before the front door finally comes into view, you get to hear another voice speaking. The voice that you couldn’t clearly hear from the kitchen while you were tuning their conversation out. 
“I’m sorry for intruding. But thank you for having me here.” 
That voice. 
You immediately come to a halt. An uneasy feeling runs through your body when you realise that you recognise this voice and have grown to know it quite well. 
There is no mistaking it. You may not have gotten his full name on the night you met, and his face has somewhat become a faint mirage in your dreams at night whenever you are taken back to the night of your hookup.
But you cannot say the same about his voice. 
That deep and gentle voice will always be engraved in your memory. Even now, the only thing you would need to do is close your eyes and listen, and allow the voice to take you back to that specific night once more, where he used this voice to say sinful words that you could feel caressing your fragile heart while he was bringing you to the peak of pleasure.
And now you are hearing that voice here, at your home, idly chatting with your mother by the front door. 
“_______, are you coming?” your mother calls again, and you know that there is no avoiding it. You have to face reality, even if that means you must come face to face with the man who is responsible for placing you in this situation.
Tamping down the rush of nerves going through your body, you slowly march ahead. Bracing yourself as you turn around the corner and enter the living room where everyone is currently gathering in.
Your eyes fall on your stepsister first. 
Alia has always looked so vibrant and beautiful, drawing all kinds of attention from everyone in the room whenever she is present. Yet when you look at her now, there seems to be a new kind of light emerging from her. Even her smile seems brighter as she chats along with your stepfather.  
And you soon realise the reason why she is shining brightly today as you turn your gaze to look at the person standing beside her. To finally see him. 
He looks just like how you remember him. Tall and lean, with his arms and chest filling up his sweater. He has his hair falling over a part of his face, just enough of a mess that seems as if he has been running his fingers through the wavy strands. As he converses with your mother, he shows his boxy grin that seems familiar to your eyes. 
Too familiar. 
Because it looks just the same as the wide grin that was teasing and flirting with you on one eventful night at the transit hotel weeks ago. 
No. That can’t be.
The baby’s daddy is here. The man who you were planning to look for once you return to the city. 
He is here, today, appearing at the front door of your parents’ home together with your stepsister. His long fingers that had once entangled between the strands of your hair are now entwined with your stepsister’s dainty fingers. And there is no mistaking the matching couple rings that are glowing under the sunlight coming from their entwined hands. 
Before you get the chance to process what is happening, you hear him introducing himself to your stepfather, “It’s good to see you, Sir. My name is Taehyung.” 
No. 
You stifle a gasp. It feels like you have been sucker-punched right in the chest that you can barely breathe. 
Taehyung, you wonder. Tae? 
All of a sudden, you feel as if the ground beneath your feet is tilting over, slowly taking you down with it. And since you seem to have lost the ability to move your feet, the only thing you can do to stop yourself from falling is to clench your hands tightly by your side. Tight enough to feel pain as your nails are sinking into your palms, convincing you that this is not a dream. 
Yet you are still in denial as you watch the interaction happening right before your eyes. Because there is no way this is happening. There is no possible way that it is truly him. 
Please. Please don’t let it be him. 
It must have been your mind playing tricks on you. Because there is no way that he is here. Not as your stepsister’s new boyfriend. 
This must be a mistake. Yes, you are probably confused and all the thoughts of finding your baby daddy are messing up with your head, forcing you to believe that your stepsister’s new boyfriend is your mysterious baby daddy. The fact that they have the same name must have been pure coincidence. 
For once in your life, you don’t want to be right. You have to be wrong. 
Please tell me that it’s not him. 
Just then, as if life was listening to your prayers, as if life has yet to have enough of its games to play around with your heart, the man turns his gaze away from your parents. And those pretty eyes land on you. 
As if there is a switch turned, the brightness in his gaze fades. His beautiful eyes are filled with recognition. It is so subtle that you are quite sure that nobody else around you notices it, but it is enough to let you know that your memories have been right all along. 
Because those are the same eyes that you saw looking back at you with pure lust and sin while he was bringing you wanton pleasure, when you made love as if both of you had been under a spell, right on the very night that may have changed your fate forever. 
Fuck. 
Me.
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At one glance, this moment would seem like any other pre-holiday family dinner. It may seem picture perfect, even—if you had been a stranger looking in. 
There are still a couple of days left until Christmas Day, yet the festive mood has already filled the room. From the living room, all the way to the dining room, Christmas decorations are already plastered across the walls and hung from the ceiling. On the dining table, the delectable meal that your mother worked hard to prepare—with your poor assistance—had been perfectly laid out. 
With Alia’s arrival today, the immediate family is now complete. Ever the charming daughter, Alia takes up the attention of everyone around her as she shares her story—about how she has been travelling between different states and some neighbouring countries, changing jobs, finding new hobbies, and even planning to adopt a new pet. 
Sitting at the head of the table, your stepfather is soaking it all in, enjoying the time he has with his daughter whom he rarely gets to see throughout the year. Your mother sits on his right, getting the front seat of their merry reunion. She would sometimes chime in, never failing to try to get you into joining their idle chat even when you are not feeling up to it. 
Other times, you would have been able to easily play along. From making cordial comments and joining with all the light jokes shared by your family, or feigning interest in anything that Alia might be sharing at the table—even when she rarely would share the same courtesy when you did the same. 
Tonight, however, it feels like a struggle for you to focus on the conversation shared at the table, let alone pretend to be interested. Not when you are busy trying your best to calm your nerves. 
You can't even embrace the same warm atmosphere that everyone seems to be sharing. 
For you, the air around feels stifling and tense. It has been this way ever since you sat down right next to your mother for dinner. Because due to the seating arrangement, the special guest of the night is now sitting right across from you at the table. 
Taehyung. 
The last person that you had ever expected to see. Not here. Certainly not at your home or sharing the same space with your parents. 
It seems surreal to meet him here like this. Even more so when he was introduced to your family as Alia’s new boyfriend.
Judging from the way he reacted when he first saw you, you can tell that he never expected something like this could ever happen. You know that he has questions, perhaps just as much as you do, yet the situation that you found yourself in right now isn’t allowing you to even show any sign that the two of you know each other or to have met before today. 
But there is something in the way he is looking at you that doesn’t sit right with you. Aside from the lingering shock you see each time your eyes accidentally meet each other, there is a look that shows a semblance of guilt, despair, and at the same time, filled with wonder. 
Was it because he never expected to see you again after that night, much less to find out that you are somehow related to the woman that he is dating? Or was there something else going through his mind? 
“This is Alia’s sister, ______,” was what your mother said when she first introduced you to him. At that point, you and Taehyung were stunned to silence, and for a brief moment, neither of you reacted. 
Thinking about it now, you can’t even remember how you managed to join your family in the living room. The moment you saw Taehyung standing there, your legs nearly gave out. It was a wonder how you managed to stop yourself from falling or tripping as you walked over to them in a state of distraught. 
“Hi, it’s good to see you,” was all that you managed to croak out of once you snapped out of it. You didn’t even give him a chance to respond when you suddenly turned your attention to your stepsister, forcing a smile on your face when you greeted her, “Hey, Alia. It’s good to see you. You seem well.” 
You can’t even remember the expression that Alia gave you when she responded to you, “Uh yeah, thanks. You too.” 
“Right. Well, I’ll let you guys settle in. I left the stove on, so—” 
That was the last thing you said before you turned away and quickly left the room, practically running away from him to hide back in the kitchen. The last thing you heard as you walked away was your mother’s voice saying something about you being her assistant of the day in the kitchen while you were feeling unwell, as if excusing you for your unmannerly attitude. 
By the time you got back in the kitchen, your hands were shaking, your heartbeat was racing so fast you could barely breathe. It took a long time for the shock to wane, and you had spent the rest of the day staying away from both of them, avoiding him entirely until you were finally called to join dinner. 
And you are still avoiding him even now, keeping your head down as much as you can and resisting the urge to look his way. As if it isn’t hard enough for you to have him sitting right in front of you, you can feel the heat of his gaze constantly following you whenever you are not looking.
He doesn’t make it so obvious, and it doesn’t seem like anyone else has noticed it yet. Perhaps you are just too hyperaware of his presence that you caught on to it so easily.
You sneak a glance at your stepsister, wondering if Alia has taken notice of her boyfriend’s wandering gaze or where he has been directing his eyes. It takes you watching the conversation between her and your parents more closely to see it. 
Because it turns out that she also has her own gaze wandering to questionable places at the same time that she isn’t paying much attention to her boyfriend. 
Each time Alia turns to regard your mother or speak to her, her gaze flickers away briefly, ever so subtly landing on the seat to your right. At the seat that Hansol would usually occupy whenever he joined you during these holiday visits. 
It is easy to catch it when you are seeing it from your angle. And it is easy to guess what is going through her head when she keeps doing it with a curious look written all over her face. An unspoken question seems to linger, while the incident from last year keeps flashing through your head when you picture Hansol being present beside you. 
Even if nobody notices her intention, you doubt that anyone would question her about it, seeing that the seat that was supposed to be left empty has been taken by someone else. 
While you are busy trying to make sense out of everything, your grandmother makes a disapproval noise with her tongue, grabbing your attention. “Are you still feeling under the weather? You’ve been drinking that boring thing the whole day,” she says, referring to the glass of iced tea that you have just put down after taking a drink from it to cool down. 
You turn to look at your dear grandmother, Honey, and smile at her. She probably hasn’t realised what a saving grace she has been for taking the unoccupied seat to your right the minute she came in for dinner. 
And she is now helping you again by drawing your attention away from the source of your dismay. Immediately, you feel better the moment you are met with Honey’s smile. 
“I’m feeling much better, actually. I’m just being careful not to drink anything that might get me sick,” you answer carefully, hoping to sound reasonable enough without making anyone question your ‘sickness’ any further. 
The more you lie to your family about it, the more guilty you feel. You don’t have much choice at the moment but to hide it just a bit longer. 
At first, you couldn’t share the news with your parents simply because you were still clueless about how you were going to find the father of the baby with only limited information you had of him. But then things only got even more complicated for you to ever come clean when he walked through the front door of your parents’ home. 
What are the odds that the man you hooked up with turns out to be the man your stepsister is currently dating? And here you are now, stuck in the same room with them while hiding a secret which may change the course of everyone’s entire life.
Yeah, miracles don’t exist. Not for me, at least.
Honey taps at your hand on the table as you grow silent, oblivious to the thoughts running through your head. “You know what you need?” she asks, whispering in a conspiring tone that she barely keeps down so that everyone at the table can still hear her voice. 
And she does it while looking at you with her wide, expecting eyes, with the barely concealed mischief written all over her face. It makes you smile, knowing where this is going. So you simply play along. 
"No, Honey. What would that be?” 
Her mischievous smile widens as she leans closer. “A hint of rum. With a few drops into that boring tea of yours, you’ll feel better in no time,” she says, lifting her hand and showing you a pinching gesture with her thumb and forefinger nearly touching each other, “Just a pinch. Or better yet, just trade your whole glass—” 
The sound of your Mom’s frustrated sigh cuts her off. “Mom, I already told you, giving her alcohol isn’t going to make her feel better. I’ve already given her some herbal tea, that should be enough until she can get a proper rest.”
“Oh, posh,” Honey says, waving her hand at your mother. “Ignore your Mom,” Honey says just as you are about to respond. “I’m telling you. Alcohol is best to cure your heartbreak,” she adds, and you certainly have no arguments against that. Alcohol might be able to help you forget. 
But, alas…
But, wait a minute. You stop and look closely at Honey. What is she talking about? 
“What do you mean?” you question her while tilting your head, wondering deep down if she had noticed something. Surely, she wouldn’t be able to tell the high tension rolling between you and Taehyung through dinner. 
Nobody else could. But you also know that if there is anyone in your family who might be able to catch on with the tension rolling between the two of you, it would be Honey. 
Once again, Honey reaches out and taps her dainty fingers on the back of your hand. “Isn’t that why you’re feeling down, peaches? I know you’re still thinking about that good for nothing—” 
Honey stops herself and bites down her smile before you can figure out what she is about to say. But you have heard enough to understand who she is referring to. 
Relief washes over you when you realise that she was talking about your ex, Hansol. She must have thought that you have been stressing over the breakup and you have been feeling unwell because of it.
Honey leans in, this time lowering her voice just enough only for you to hear. “You must’ve taken it from me. I also get a stomach bug when I’m stressed out. Just like last summer when I lost a go-stop game against the ladies from the block,” she says, before she continues blabbering about how she had made bets during the game and went all-in only to lose everything. 
“You might think that they’re nothing but small pennies used for gambling coins, but I spent a whole week collecting them. How am I supposed to replace all of them before the next game?” she continues to complain, while you laugh at her. 
Her story takes away the tension on your shoulders for a brief moment before she adds, “And then you had to come here and watch these two being all lovey-dovey with each other.” 
As Honey mentions the pair sitting across the table, waving her hand at them to make a point, your eyes are drawn towards them once more. And your gaze lands right on Alia’s hand which is now resting on top of Taehyung’s. 
Seeing this makes you feel tight in the chest. Bitterness fills your mouth which you can barely hide with a tight smile. Honey may not have been entirely correct with her assumptions, yet her comment still hits the mark somehow. 
Not about Hansol, obviously, as he is the one to occupy your mind the least. Yet she wasn’t too far off when she talked about the new pair of lovers before you. Seeing them does make you uncomfortable, miserable even, but for entirely different reasons. 
Looking away from their joined hands, your gaze meets Alia’s. She is wearing an unreadable expression on her face as she listens in to Honey’s words. And the strange look that she is giving you now is making you feel uneasy.
Just as you start wondering if Alia has noticed something, she instead asks you, “You guys broke up?” 
She throws a quick glance at Honey’s seat with a frown. For others, she might seem concerned, yet there is a look in her eyes which tells you that there is something more. “I was wondering why I haven’t seen him around. He was with us last holiday.” 
Her comment rubs you in the wrong way. You have no idea why she would care when your relationship has nothing to do with her. But you try to not let it bother you. “Yes, it’s been months now since we broke up. I only told Mom and Dad yesterday when I first got home.” 
“I see,” she says. Her voice comes out so softly that it almost comes out as a murmur. She pulls her hand back and places it on her lap. “That’s too bad. I’m sorry,” she adds while offering a small smile. And for some reason, she also seems guilty. 
Does she think it has something to do with what happened last year? 
Her words remind you of something that she said to you last year, back on the morning you confronted her after her drunken blunder which happened the night before. 
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking. I didn’t mean anything, I swear. It’s just drunk talking.” 
That incident shouldn’t be bothering you today. Yet it still makes you feel bitter when you think about it. The feeling only grows worse when you glance at Taehyung who is showing a sudden interest in this whole thing. 
“It’s fine. Sometimes things just don’t work out,” you simply repeat the same thing you said to your mother earlier while biting back the real question that is hanging right at the tip of your tongue. 
But what’s in it to you? 
No matter how curious you are to know what kind of scheme that is going through her pretty little head, you know it’s not worth all the drama that it might cause. You cannot even possibly imagine the drama that would unfold once this whole baby thing comes out.
God, just thinking about it is already making your stomach churn. Your lower abdomen suddenly feels hard and heavy. As if you have a full-size lead inside instead of a small, growing blob that is about to form into an actual living baby within a few weeks from now. 
Thinking about the baby, your eyes find the man who is behind all of this. He has grown oddly quiet while you were conversing with your stepsister and is now staring at his food with a frown on his face.
“So tell me,” you ask calmly while clenching your hands, doing your best to hide the trembles, “How did you two meet?”
This question immediately draws Taehyung’s attention. His eyes snap up, but the moment he looks at you, his face seems to grow pale and he becomes awfully nervous.
“We, uh—we used to work at the same company before Alia left to venture into other things,” he says, almost stuttering. He also keeps stealing glances at Alia, as if begging her to help him out. 
Huh, strange.
What is it about answering your simple question which makes him so nervous? 
Or perhaps…
Have they been seeing each other when the two of you hooked up? 
Fuck. 
The moment this thought crosses your mind, you suddenly feel sick. Your stomach grows heavier with anxiety. Meanwhile, Alia’s smile seems to beam brighter. 
“We didn’t work in the same division back then, but we would frequently meet during breaks and company hours. Had it been, what, a year after we last met?” Alia turns to Taehyung, who stiffly nods his head. She grabs his hand once again and looks at him lovingly as she continues, “We met again last summer by chance while I was travelling and started talking since then.” 
Last summer? But that was before—
Your head starts spinning. You grab your glass and take a couple of small sips of your tea to regain composure, yet the drink suddenly tastes bitter on your tongue. 
Honey’s voice barely registers in your brain when she responds with a hum. “Travelling in the summer? That sounds like a charming way to meet a new lover,” she says, lifting her mug to her lips as she continues marvelling at your stepsister’s story. “You must have felt some sparks when you two met. I bet you’re still feeling it now, aren’t you?”
You have no idea what she has inside that ceramic mug, as she had been nursing the same drink since even before dinner started. You can bet money that she had more than a pinch of rum dropped inside that drink of hers, seeing how talkative she is becoming. 
Oh, how you wish you could have a taste of it. Just a sip would have been good enough. Maybe it can also help to stop your hands from trembling. 
“And the ring?” Honey asks again with a teasing tone as she points at their entwined hands. “I noticed that you two are wearing matching rings. You can’t possibly be engaged already, can you?” 
Almost choking on your drink, you slowly set your glass back down and pull your hands onto your lap, hiding them from prying eyes just in time as they begin to shake.
“But it wasn’t that different back in the day,” Honey continues, “I remember that Russ—that’s my dear late husband,” she explains to Taehyung, “he bought me a cheap ring at the beginning of our relationship to show me and my parents that he was serious about courting me.” 
On any other times that Honey would speak about your late grandfather, you would always enjoy listening to every word, admiring how she would always share her story with pure love in her voice and wonder glowing in her eyes. 
But not this time. 
Ever since she pointed out the ring and started talking about your grandfather’s old promises, you start having trouble breathing. The more she speaks, the worse it gets, and now there is a ringing sound echoing in your ear that seems to be coming from different directions. 
“I still keep the ring with me, side by side with the wedding ring that doesn’t fit anymore on these wrinkly fingers of mine,” Honey keeps gushing. She raises her hands and starts wiggling her fingers to show them off, while your whole body grows tense. 
Alia shares a nervous laugh with Taehyung and waves her hand at Honey. “Oh, no…it’s actually a part of a joke that we—” 
You try to tune out the voices, the words that are being said, while clasping your hands tighter together on your lap, but the shaking doesn’t stop. Alia’s voice fades in and out beyond the loud ringing in your head as she continues to tell her story about how they started dating and the ring came to be. With everything that is going on, added with your awareness over Taehyung’s intense gaze that doesn’t seem to waver, it becomes too overwhelming that you feel as if you are slowly being swallowed into the ground beneath you. 
With a sharp gasp, you slowly push yourself out of your seat. “Excuse me, I have to—” your voice cracks as you speak. As you stand, you notice that everyone has their eyes on you, all curious to know what is happening with you. 
“_______?” you hear your mother calling you.
You can feel the blood draining from your face under all the unwanted attention, making you wish that you could just fade away right at that moment. But then your hand find its way to your stomach, and it almost feels like there is a touch of warmth forming under your palm. It helps you force a smile and gather yourself just enough to say, “I’m sorry, but I’m not feeling well, so I’m going to step out early. I hope that’s alright. You guys enjoy the rest of dinner.” 
You don’t wait for anyone’s response as you turn away, finding your escape merely moments before you get into a full-blown meltdown right in front of everyone. 
Your legs are wobbly as you walk down the hall, yet you still manage to slip into the guest bathroom downstairs. With trembling hands, you lock the door behind you, shutting yourself from the world outside. 
And that is when you fall apart, turning into a heaving mess as everything that you have been bottling up inside comes flooding out of you. 
“Breathe,” you command yourself while you fight back against your nausea. Holding onto the bathroom counter, you keep yourself and try your best to focus on controlling your breath. 
Take a slow, deep breath. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. 
Little by little, all the tension, the trembling, and the tightness in your chest begin to wane. But once everything is gone, once you begin to find calmness, your emotions seize control of you.
The next thing you know, an unstoppable flow of tears comes running down your face and you start sobbing, crying in defeat. 
“Shit. Fuck. What a mess,” you curse between each sob, feeling absolutely helpless and alone. You close your eyes, hoping that you can clear your head by doing so. Yet your mind keeps going to dark places. Constantly wondering and questioning about all of this. 
About him. 
“Did he ever mention anything that was related to his personal life that night?” you cannot help but wonder out loud. 
Only silence answers. Because you hold little to no recollection of the details from the conversation you shared with him that night. Whenever you try to remember, it always feels like there was a part of your memory that had gone missing. 
You haven’t had the slightest clue of the things you shared with him at the bar once the drinks started coming more frequently. Which is a wonder, because you are completely sure that neither of you had gotten drunk enough to experience a blackout, much less lose a memory.
At least for you, the alcohol was just enough to burn through your nerves and help build your confidence to take the lead and openly show the attraction you had for him. Even if he did end up taking back control the moment the two of you finally gave in to temptation. 
Your head starts pounding, aching the more you try to remember the missing details. Meanwhile, all the questions won’t stop coming, making it harder for you to regain a peaceful mind.
Did he ever mention having a girlfriend, or at least give any hint that he was taken? 
Was he wearing that ring on his finger when he was touching your skin under the dim light of his bedroom suite? 
You shake your head and close your eyes again when you still remember nothing. The only thing that remains in your memory is the look you saw in his gaze that night. The pitiful look that seemed to mirror yours, making you believe that he was looking for the same thing you did that night. 
An escape. A way to forget even if for a moment. 
But what if that was all just another lie? 
Your stomach churns. A sharp pain comes shooting through your body. It starts from your lower abdomen, causing you to almost double over. 
Fuck. Now what? 
Your hand instantly comes down to your stomach, pressing and rubbing gently against it until the uncomfortable ache ebbs under your touch. 
Right, I’m supposed to avoid any form of stress, you remind yourself as you recall what your doctor told you the last time you went to see her. Something about getting your blood tension rising when you are stressed, and that it wouldn’t be good for both you and the baby in the long run. Closing your eyes, you try to think of happy thoughts, all while keeping your palm pressed on your stomach.
To your surprise, rubbing your palm against the barely-there baby bump on your belly isn’t just helping you to soothe the pain away, but also to calm yourself down. 
With a sigh, you gently wipe your tears and look down. “I’m sorry for swearing so much, baby. I promise to stop doing it once you’ve grown big enough to start hearing things so you won’t learn any of it too soon. But fuck, this is too much.” 
It feels odd to speak like this to the living being growing inside you that is barely more than a piece of flesh. Yet speaking to your growing baby seems to help ease your anxiety a little. 
Better yet, it helps make you feel less alone. 
“Let’s not think any bad thoughts. Let’s not assume that your Dad is an asshole, okay? Not until we get to hear the full story,” you whisper to the tiny human growing inside you. The more you speak to it, the more it seems to be helping you to find some ease of mind. 
But even if it turns out that he was…
“Then I can deal with it later with my head held high,” you murmur to yourself in a soft, yet reassuring tone of voice. And you repeat it again, and again, almost as if you are chanting a spell which would be able to give you a boost of confidence. 
It may not immediately change the way you look at things, yet you can feel it slowly rising within you. It feels like a ray of light, the first spark of hope that you get to feel amid all the uncertainty which surrounds you.
Soon enough, the strong urge to cry no longer overcomes you. Even your hands have stopped shaking. All that you have left is exhaustion. It rolls through your body with a vengeance, and there is nothing that you want more right now other than to curl up like a ball on your bed and sleep it off. 
You raise your head to look at yourself in the mirror, and instantly a bitter laugh escapes you at what you are seeing.
Because you look like a complete mess. Your life is slowly turning into shambles, and it seems to be mocking you through your own reflection that is now staring back at you. 
“Just exactly what I need,” you whisper with a sigh.
I need to be stronger, if only for the sake of this little one in me, you tell yourself as you splash cold water at your face to wash away all the mess—the drying tears, your swollen eyes, and the skin on your face which has yet to regain its normal colours. 
It feels therapeutic to be washing everything off, leaving nothing more but your swollen eyes which you can explain as a part of your sickness. You may not be strong enough to take on the world, but at least now, you are prepared to face the reality that is waiting for you right outside of this door. 
No matter how fucking messy it is. 
Having this new revelation should be giving you a newfound credence that could push you forward. And yet there is none of that here. The only thing you are feeling now is the new bout of anxiety rolling up through your body, starting from your stomach as it churns painfully.
“Yeah, now I feel sick,” you groan as you rush to the toilet bowl, seconds away before you start dumping the small amount of food you had during dinner into waste. 
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It takes a bit longer than expected before you finally find the courage to step out of the bathroom. 
Soft murmurs filter into the bathroom the moment you open the door. You can tell that the voices are coming from the living room, which means that the family has gathered there after dinner. It allows you to breathe a sigh of relief. At least this way you wouldn’t have to hide or make excuses if you have to bump into someone on your way to your bedroom.
Stepping out of the bathroom, you are relieved that nobody is around. Everyone should be in the living room, so you make haste, hoping to be able to escape before anyone notices. 
But as you turn to the next hallway, someone is standing in your way. The light is dim, yet you can easily recognise him before you get any closer. Standing with his back leaning against the wall, he has his hands tucked into his pockets and his eyes looking absently into the distance. 
As though he has been waiting for you. 
Taehyung turns when he notices you coming. Before you can start to wonder what he is doing here, a smile grows on his face.
“Hey, is everything okay? Everyone was worried,” he asks you, sounding genuinely concerned. 
The calm tone of his voice might be a bit deceiving if only you are not looking into his eyes. His gaze keeps wavering as he speaks, as if he is unable to look at you for too long. The same guilt you saw earlier is still present in his eyes. And you hate seeing it there. 
It only tells you that he has a secret that he is keeping from you. You have no idea how to feel about it. But if it has to do with his relationship with Alia, then—
“I’m fine, it’s just—” 
Your cheeks grow warm the moment you speak, feeling embarrassed at how dry your voice sounds. “It’s nothing. You heard my Mom, I’ll be better in no time.” 
You have so many things to say to him. So many questions that you would like to give him. But you are too tired to do anything. Much less to talk. As much as you can convince yourself that you are ready to face anything, now is not the right time to do it. 
So you keep your mouth shut and try to walk past him instead. Only that he isn’t letting you go that easily. 
“You know, it really is nice to see you again, Red.” 
His voice sounds so subdued that you almost miss it. You come to a halt. Your heartbeat starts picking up again. If you ever needed confirmation that the sinful night you shared with him truly happened, and that he remembered any part of it, then this is it. 
His comment which instantly brings you back to that fateful night. The nickname that he used to call you then.
You close your eyes, refusing to remember the way he managed to draw out a myriad of sensations with his voice alone. You refuse to be brought back there again. Not now, when your mind isn’t clear enough to be dealing with this. Taking a deep breath, you compose yourself just enough to face him.
Only to be met with his amused smile as he looks at you. 
“I was surprised to see you. I never would have thought that you could somehow be related to Alia.” He lets out a chuckle. It sounds empty and a bit bitter, mirroring exactly how you are feeling right now. 
Your chest feels tight, hating the way he is saying her name. Nor do you enjoy seeing the way his gaze changes when he does it. Annoyance fills your chest that you can barely speak, while he remains in his blissful ignorance as he continues talking, 
“Funny how life works, doesn’t it? I kept thinking about you after we met and wondered if we would ever see each other again. I regretted that I didn’t ask for your number before we parted ways. I didn’t even get to ask for your real name.” 
The tightness in your chest grows tenfold. 
You never admitted it before—not to yourself, and not even to Skye, when you first talked about him—yet there was some point between that night and the day you found out about the pregnancy that you spent your nights wondering if you would ever see him again. 
If there had been one thing that you regretted about that night, it would be the decision you made to leave the next morning without asking for his real name or leaving any means of contact. 
A night to escape from reality. 
That was all it meant for you at the time. So when the morning came, it was time for you to return to reality. Your reality. Your real life. And you were too busy preparing yourself to face all the hurt, the bad memories, and the stressful life that had nothing to do with the desirable woman that he brought into his bed the night before to even consider exchanging contacts with him. 
It didn’t matter if you were still riding the high of that night’s self-gratification and wanton pleasure through the rest of your trip. The moment everything ended, you simply moved on from it. Putting everything about that night to the back of your mind as you returned to your normal life and quickly fell back into your normal routine. 
Until weeks later, when life decided to fuck you over and you ended up with a baby growing inside you, and you had no way to find or contact him to inform him about it. 
“I guess it can’t be helped, given the circumstances.” Your conviction quickly melts into dread once you are reminded of the current circumstances. “It’s kinda too late now to talk about it and regret what didn’t happen, don’t you think? Seeing that you’re now dating my stepsister.” 
Taehyung winces. For a brief moment, you almost believe you can see a glimpse of hurt flickering through his gaze. And for some reason, it only pisses you off. 
So he doesn’t like being reminded of the fact that he is here for someone else? 
“Look, about Alia. I was hoping that we could talk. Maybe when all of this is done, or maybe after the holidays we can—” 
He continues talking, but you aren’t hearing anything. The questions that flooded your brain earlier come flashing back. The ringing that pained you returns. Everything lasts for a few more seconds before your mind clears out, and only one question remains. 
“Were the two of you already dating when we slept together?” 
He falls silent, taken aback. 
“No!” he immediately says, almost shouting. But he quickly reins himself before his voice would reach where everyone is and draw their attention. “Fuck, no. Is that why you’ve been sulking all through dinner?” he asks you with a hiss. He seems offended and hurt at the same time. “I’m not that kind of guy. Trust me.” 
“Sulking?” you let out an incredulous laugh. Is that how he saw it? When you were coming close to breaking apart right in front of everyone because of him? 
“How am I supposed to trust you when I barely know you? How am I supposed to know that you’re telling the truth?” you snap back at him with a hiss. “Just because we fucked it doesn’t mean that I’d magically know everything about you.” 
Again, he winces at your question. As if your words come to him like a slap on his face. He takes a deep breath and speaks more calmly in response, “Look, we should talk. Soon. I can explain everything. But not now, okay?” 
As much as you hate to admit it, or to agree with him, you decide that he is right. There are a lot of things that you need to discuss with him, and now is not the right time to do it. Not when your emotions are all over the place and when he has his girlfriend keeping him in close sight most of the time. 
“I agree. We do need to talk,” you finally agree, even though you know that both of you have different things in mind. 
You have no idea what he intends to discuss with you. The only thing that matters to you is to talk about the baby that you conceived together. And hopefully, decide what will happen next. 
“I should go,” you sigh, feeling exhausted and drained. “I need to lie down. This is too much for me to process.” 
You try to walk around him so you can continue on your way. Your head is pounding, and you have the dire need to rest in your comfortable bed, where you would be able to feel safe and hide away from all of this. 
“Wait,” Taehyung stops you before you can go too far. 
“What?” you ask him, feeling exasperated—both from the stress and from the way your body still tingles each time you hear his voice. You really need to get away from him. 
“Nothing, it’s just…” he starts, suddenly looking nervous with what he is about to say. The sound of laughter echoes from the living room, making him glance over his shoulder briefly before speaking to you with a lowered voice, “Can you do me a favour?” 
You frown at him. “What is it?” 
He looks wary, and it makes you feel uneasy in the stomach as you wait for him to speak. 
But what he says next makes you feel even worse. “Please don’t tell Alia that we’ve met before, more importantly that we hooked up that night.” 
You say nothing at first. Even if you are well aware of the situation and where Alia’s position in all of this, it still doesn’t stop the sharp pain you feel in your chest as he mentions her name, or to express his request. 
Taehyung steps closer when you remain quiet. His voice comes as a desperate whisper when he pleads with you, “Please? Can you do this for me?” 
You grit your teeth. “Fine, I won’t,” you finally say to him. But you refuse to give in that easily.
Taking a step closer to him, you point at him and demand him, “But you need to tell her.” 
He clenches his jaw as he listens to your demands, but you ignore it and continue to talk. “She needs to know—” your voice nearly wavers, because you know what would happen once everything is revealed. 
Telling your stepsister that you had slept with her boyfriend would not only be hard, but it would be ugly. 
But it would be better than keeping it a secret for much longer. Because secrets don’t always remain hidden, no matter how hard you try to keep them in the shadows. And things would even get messier once the baby comes while she is still being kept in the dark. 
It’s better to bite the bullet as soon as possible, rather than waiting and living your life in uncertainty until the day comes. 
“If you don’t, and we keep this a secret much longer, things might get messier if she somehow finds out on her own. The last thing I’d ever want is to get into any drama. Not with her,” you try to convince Taehyung, despite him looking like he would rather bolt and have nothing to do with any of this. 
After all the drama that happened last year, the last thing you need is to get involved in another. 
“I’ll tell her myself if necessary.” There is a bite in your voice when you are telling him all of this. To his credit, Taehyung—despite looking shell-shocked and cornered—seems to respect and understand your request. 
He lowers his head and nods. “Give me time. I’ll—” 
You are surprised to see him looking defeated. It makes you wonder if there is something more about their relationship that you need to know before going further. 
As Taehyung raises his head again, he seems more resolved. He looks straight into your eyes as he promises, “I’ll tell her myself once I get the chance to. I promise. But we’re going to have that talk first, and soon.” 
“It’s a promise.” You bite back the ache that suddenly pierces through your heart, seeing how he is so adamant about protecting his relationship with your stepsister. Trying not to look too deep into it and get yourself hurt further, you avoid looking into his gaze and start walking away from him. 
“Goodnight then—” you whisper to him as you turn away from him, biting back the sound of your defeat when you call his name, “Tae.” 
The moment you are within the safety of your bedroom, your knees buckle. Thankfully, you still manage to close the door and lock it behind you, once again shutting yourself from everyone to give you some moment of peace.
Although it doesn’t stop him from entering your mind in the silence that follows. 
As you lie down in your bed, curled up in a fetal position with your arms wrapped around yourself, your mind wanders back to the conversation you just had with Taehyung in the hallway. 
You can’t help it. His words keep coming back to you, and you keep finding yourself dissecting everything he said. You close your eyes, and keep telling yourself to stop. The situation that you are dealing with right now already seems absurd enough for you to waste your energy trying to understand him. 
You begin to wonder if things would have been better if you hadn’t come across each other again. Things would probably turn out differently. You may have to keep the baby’s existence a secret from him, and the truth about the father a secret from your family. 
You may have to deal with everything yourself. 
The possibility seems petrifying, but it still sounds a lot better than having to go against your stepsister. Better than causing your frail relationship to become even worse. This time, you know that this would be big enough to ruin any chance for you and your stepsister to have any kind of relationship at all. 
He was right. It’s funny how life works. If only it doesn’t have to be this hard to laugh it off. 
Stop it. 
Keeping your eyes closed, you let out a deep sigh and force yourself to think about something else. Anything. As long as you are not thinking about him. His face, his voice, the scent of his cologne, everything that belongs to him. 
Your head starts swimming. No, everything about him now belongs to someone else. 
Once again, you force yourself to start thinking of less stressful things. Like Skye’s text message from this afternoon suggesting that you could run away with her to a secluded place somewhere in Europe so that the two of you could raise the baby together. Or the little stories that Honey shared about the cute new gardener now working at her apartment complex—the complex specifically built for elders like herself—that she wanted to introduce to you the next time you come by to visit.
You regret forgetting to pick up the smoothie that your mother made for you while you were throwing up in the bathroom, all due to Taehyung’s distraction. You wonder if having the smoothie would be able to help you feel better. Picturing the drink being left attended in the kitchen, you can picture your grandmother—the sweet little mischievous angel that she is—sneaking in a few drops of rum into the smoothie when your mother isn’t looking. 
This thought makes you smile. It replaces every ugly thoughts that keep circling inside your mind and calms you down. 
Your heartbeat is no longer beating like crazy. The more you fill your head with wonderful thoughts, the sooner the uneasy feeling in your stomach begins to wane. 
And soon enough, you start drifting away to a restless sleep. 
But just like how he invaded your home with his sudden appearance, Taehyung invades your sleep once your mind is left unguarded. 
Speaking to him, albeit briefly, brings you back to that night. The moment you close your eyes, you start seeing everything from back then that you couldn’t remember in your waking hours. Even the smallest details that your conscious mind has forgotten. Everything comes crashing down on you as you toss and turn in your bed, unable to give in completely to a peaceful slumber as memories continue to flood your dreams. 
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Six weeks ago…
You opened your eyes and squinted. 
The overhead lamp above your head was bright, and it was hurting your eyes. You could barely see a thing through your bleary eyes, until your gaze drifted further, looking into the dimly lit bedroom far across the foyer. 
The room looked more spacious than yours, albeit a bit messy. The massive bed looked comfortable, and there were two lounge seats set up near the windows that looked more luxurious than the ones you had in your room. 
“Your bedroom seems a lot more cozy than mine.” 
The words came out of your lips with a moan. The sound seemed foreign. Barely recognisable through your hazy mind. But there was a familiar sensation slowly rising in your body that hadn’t at all come from the alcoholic drinks you were having tonight. 
“Hmmm…You think so?”
A deep, sultry voice spoke as a pair of hot lips made their way down the side of your neck, tracing your skin with delicate kisses that made it even harder for you to think straight. 
Shivers ran down your body. Heat rolled through your chest. And it almost seemed to you that your skin was becoming even more sensitive to the touch when even the most subtle caress of his fingers was able to light up your senses. 
Right after the voice spoke to you, he suddenly switched and started kissing his way up. You blinked, and his face came into view just as he looked down at you. The beautiful face that captivated you when you first met him at the bar was presented right before your eyes. 
So close. So tempting. And his eyes were so intense that you nearly lost your breath. He smiled and leaned down, capturing your lips with a kiss. 
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he murmured against your lips, drawing another moan out of you which snapped you from your daze. 
You sighed as you gave in to the chaste kiss he was giving you. “It’s kind of hard to look around and see anything when you have me pinned to the door.” 
He let out a soft chuckle and once again pressed his lips on yours. As if he was both pleased and amused that he got to put you in this position. When he pulled back, the look in his eyes softened. 
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. It’s all your fault for teasing me all the way here while I couldn’t allow myself to touch you with so many eyes paying attention,” he said without any hint of regret in his voice. 
“Well, forgive me because I wasn’t aware,” you taunted him back, knowing fully well what you had done to tease him until he was on the verge of breaking apart even before you reached his hotel suite. 
As much as you wanted to hold back, you were quite sure that you hadn’t gotten things wrong. You couldn’t have possibly mistaken the chemistry that kept sparking between you. And the way he kept openly staring at your body was enough to make his intention clear, as his eyes seemed more honest than the words he gave you. 
But back at the bar, you had let him be the first one to make the move. 
With his sturdy hands, he was the one who pulled your seat closer. By placing his arm on your backrest, it may have seemed as if he was marking his territory for anyone else at the hotel bar to see. Normally, something like this would’ve put you off. But there was something in the way he did it that made you feel otherwise, allowing you to give in and lean more into his warmth instead of pushing him away. 
That was when you reciprocated his actions with your own. The light and subtle touches of your fingers on his arm drew soft shudders through his body. The accidental brushes that happened when you moved against his body pushed him into wrapping his arm around you, keeping you close before he finally pulled you out of the bar. 
When you leaned close enough to whisper softly against his ear, you could feel goosebumps rising on his skin, his heartbeat escalating under your palm, and he could barely hold himself back from devouring your lips right there at the hotel lobby. Right where everyone could see you falling into pieces under your sinful desire.
By the time you were alone with him in the elevator, the tension between you just kept escalating until he finally snapped. 
He nearly dragged you across the hallway leading to his bedroom suite in his rush to get you alone. The moment he pulled you in through the door, every bit of his composure simply left him. He barely gave you a chance to catch a single glance of the suite, as he immediately pushed your body against the door and kept you there. 
Until this moment. 
His eyes grew dark after listening to your answer. His breath is still ragged after the hot kiss that he gave you once he got you pinned between his hard body and the locked door behind you. 
With his broad chest locking you in place, his hips pressing against your lower body, he left you with nowhere else to go. But this didn’t seem to be enough for him. Looking into his eyes, you could tell that he needed to see you become even more vulnerable. Almost as if he wanted to punish you for putting him on the edge. 
And he did exactly that as he slipped one hand around your neck and pulled your hair, tilting your head back so that he could continue exploring the column of your throat with his sinful lips. Instead of resisting it, you simply gave in. Arching your back to him further as he trailed kisses on your skin, your hands clutching on his jacket to hold on. 
He used his other hand to explore the rest of your body. Starting from your waist, he continued to move further down to your hips. Tracing every curve, every dent along your body with his firm fingers pressing through your thin dress. 
Just as he was about to reach the hem of your dress, he suddenly stopped and pulled back. 
“Tell me again. Are you sure this is what you want?” His voice was quiet when he asked you this. It sounded as though he was caught between convincing himself that this was happening while giving you an out for one last time before getting too deep. 
But you had gone deep. 
And you knew then that the moment you let everything happen, there was no going back from it. Everything about this was new to you; hooking up with a complete stranger while you were in the middle of nowhere, and knowing that once the night was over, both of you were going to move on with your lives. 
It felt thrilling to think about it, and the liquid courage should help you in letting go of your inhibitions. Yet you couldn’t deny the fact that you are feeling slightly nervous about jumping fully into this. 
When you failed to answer him, Tae leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss right below your ear and whispered, “Well? Talk to me. Because there is no going back from this once we begin, and I won’t let you go until you tell me what you want.” 
The way his breath tickled your ear and caressed your skin broke you out of the walls you put up. Every flicker of doubt you felt immediately melted. You brushed against him, allowing him to feel every bit of heat coursing through your body before you answered with a whisper, “Yes. I’ve never been so sure in my whole life.” 
You could feel the way his breath was caught as you pressed your palm on his chest. Pressing against him, you raised yourself up and nipped his chin with your teeth. 
“This is what I want.” 
You weren’t completely sure if you ever got to finish your sentence when all of a sudden, his lips came crashing into yours, pressing firmly as he kissed you, barely concealing his desire for more. 
The kiss unleashed your own desire. You opened your mouth for him in return, allowing him to devour you, to have a taste of your demands as he thoroughly kissed you until you were left breathless in his arms. 
His hand began to move again just then. Tracing down your hips, he pressed the tips of his fingers harder into your flesh. He made it seem as if your dress had melted into your skin with the heat of his touch that you felt completely exposed to him. And he didn’t stop until he finally found the exposed skin of your thigh. 
Your body quivered upon contact, and you could tell that he felt it too. He began stroking your skin, moving at a slow, agonising pace just to put you on the edge. 
And he easily succeeded. Already, you could barely breathe, even when he was still far from touching any part of your body that needed him the most. 
Overcame with need, your body started moving on instinct. As if his touches were controlling you as you lifted your thigh for him. His grip on your thigh tightened, helping you to keep your leg up and open yourself to him while his kiss became sloppy yet gentle as he released his hold on your hair. 
He moved his other hand down, brushing against your covered breast with a brief contact and continued trailing down. You felt him pressing at your hips, before pulling the hem of your dress upward until your lower region was completely exposed. His hand continued its travel as it climbed up your inner thigh. So you opened your legs to give him better access. A move which he appreciated with a deep hum, before you felt his thumb brushing up just an inch away from your throbbing core. 
“Should we move this someplace else? Somewhere that would be more comfortable for us?” he asked you with his lips hovering close to yours. 
It took a moment for his words to sink in. Too lost in the sensation that you were made to feel, you felt as if you were drunk and high, not from the alcohol that was no longer running wildly through your veins, but from his entire presence alone. 
All thoughts faded further as his thumb grazed across the front of your panties, finding your folds through the fabric before he pressed down, enough to give pressure on your covered clit. Sparks flew through your half-lidded eyes as pleasure came rushing through you in waves. You couldn’t stop the moan slipping out of your lips, nor the way your hips rocked into his touch to feel more. 
“So responsive,” he murmured against your neck before he planted a light kiss on your skin. “I would have loved to watch and enjoy every reaction that you would give me, every sound you make, while I have you lie down on my bed and fuck you senseless.” 
Your breath hitched and caught in your chest. Not only because of his words, but also from the way his thumb continued to rub against your covered clit. It felt sinful, yet so delectable the way he kept drawing more and more sparks and shuddering pleasure through your body.
After being deprived of such attention for quite some time, your body became more sensitive to every friction, every treatment he was giving you, and you simply wanted more. 
“Then take me there. Take me to your bed.” 
As if you had flicked a switch in his brain, his expression changed. His gaze darkened as he captured your lips with unrestrained need, yet he was careful when he picked you up, pressing you against his chest when he turned and moved to take you away from the door.
You wrapped your arms and legs around him for balance, while your lips remained locked in a deep kiss. You could feel his long stride as he began carrying you across the room. His kiss and his firm hold on your bottom cheeks were enough to draw your attention away from his clumsy footsteps, but not enough to deny you from sensing the changes happening around you.
The scent of his cologne grew thicker as he went deeper into the room, and you were getting more and more lost in him. Drowned in his heat, his kiss, and the traces that he had left behind all over his bedroom, you felt him everywhere all at once that you felt like you were being put under a spell. 
All so suddenly, you were pulled out of it when he broke away from the kiss. He laid you gently over the cold white sheets of his partly-made bed. Instead of joining you right away, he chose to pull back. His eyes seemed to glint in the dimly lit room as he took this moment to take you in. 
“Beautiful,” he murmured softly, drawing heat back to your face. 
He kept his eyes on you as he shrugged off his jacket and began peeling his shirt from his chest. Desire pulsed through your body as you watched every move he was making without ever drawing his attention away from you. 
The more you watched him, the stronger the pull that you felt towards him. Once the need to touch him took over, you reached up and tugged on his pants, hoping that you could quickly shred them off of his body. 
You barely grazed against his covered hard-on when he stopped you by catching your wrists. Like a disappointed teacher, he made a disapproval sound with his tongue. 
“Patience, Red,” he teasingly said to you as he grabbed the hem of your dress and pulled it off of you with one swift move. You fell back to the bed with a gasp, shocked to see how easy it was for him to take over until you were left with nothing more but your lacy underthings. 
The intensity you felt from his gaze made you want to wrap your arms around yourself and hide. But being half inebriated was making you slow in thoughts and movement that you couldn’t do anything but lay still. At the same time, you enjoyed the way he was looking at you, loving how he was losing himself to you the same way you did to him. 
But it was the words that he said next that further brought out your wanton needs.
“Be a good girl and stay still. I want you to stay just like this,” he said with a murmur while his eyes ran down your body, “I want you to lie on your back while you are screaming out my name.” 
If only you hadn’t been so lost for words, perhaps you would have challenged him in return. Instead, by the time every piece of his clothing was gone, you felt like you had melted further into the sheets. The raw passion you saw in his gaze and the way he was tracing his fingertips on your skin had locked you completely in place, leaving you with no other option but to surrender as he took control.
He bent down, his lips came down to your neck. Planting his kisses on your skin, he kept your attention away from his hands as he snapped off your bra and went down to pull your panties down your hips. As he dragged your panties down your bare legs, he continued his kisses further down, not stopping until he reached your heaving chest. 
You couldn’t even remember what happened to that flimsy piece of fabric that he took from you. Everything else faded as his tongue grazed across your chest, drawing a gasp out of your lips. His firm hands returned to your hips right then, holding you down while he captured your taut nipple between his teeth. 
The feeling that coursed through you was heavenly. A shooting pain came with a flare as he bit down, yet it was quickly replaced with an overwhelming feeling of pleasure when he lapped the pain away with his sinful tongue. 
“Tae—”
His body quivered against yours at the sound of your voice. He pulled away with a grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he watched you arching your chest as if you were chasing him. 
He ran his gaze down your body. Perusing you while silently admiring what he was seeing while he licked his lips. As if he was picturing the way you would taste. 
“Tell me how badly you want this, Red,” he taunted you with his hand reaching out to the nightstand. You vaguely saw him grabbing a condom while you were struggling to breathe. Your eyes fell on his exposed, throbbing cock, and words simply left you. 
Seeing its impressive size and girth, your entire body erupted with a pulse. It started from deep inside your core, right where you wanted to feel him the most. Astonished, you failed to remember that he was still waiting for your answer with his eyes locked on your face. 
And he made you struggle further to find words when he reached down, wrapping his long fingers around his cock and started giving himself slow, lazy strokes. You could see the bead of his pre-cum glistening under the dim lighting. It took everything in you to stop yourself from leaning forward and lapping him dry. To have a taste, before you let him devour every drop of your essence. 
“Red? Talk to me,” he spoke to you again with a curious tone in his voice. 
He knew that he wasn’t getting any attention, as your eyes were locked only at one place that was not his face, and he seemed to be curious to know what was making you so lost in thoughts. 
Instead of answering him, you continued to watch, completely transfixed by his actions, as he slowly spread his pre-cum along the length of his cock. You licked your lips, almost as if you could taste him. A barely concealed whimper slipped out of your lips when you watched him slowly roll the condom to cover himself from the tip of his cock and down to the base. 
Seeing him covered with protection seemed to snap you back to the present. Even if your pulsing need still refused to tame down. 
Resting back against the pillows, you dragged your eyes away from his impressive cock to his beautiful face. 
“I want you here. Inside me,” you finally responded to his question. Placing your palms on the underside of your thighs, you parted your legs open, making him see the mess that had been building up right between your legs while you were enjoying the show he was giving you. 
Now it was your turn to give him a show. 
Reaching between your legs, you moved your fingers to find your folds. You bit back a gasp once the tips of your fingers were met with your wet arousal. It felt slick as you moved your fingers around, parting your nether lips so he could see your swollen clit, before you moved your fingers in circles, pressing at yourself the exact same way you wished he would. 
“Please, fuck me, Tae. Fuck me good.” 
His pupils dilated at the sound of your voice, at the pleading words you were giving him. You loved the way he was reacting to you just as much as he did with you, yet you decided to push his buttons further by adding, “And then I want to hear you scream my name while you cum inside me.” 
He raised his eyebrows. “What a little brat,” he said, chuckling. “So you like to play games, hmmm?” 
You bit your bottom lip, holding back a moan that was threatening to come out when your touch inadvertently pushed against the source of your heat. “Oh, I do. Games are always fun.” 
While he continued stroking his cock at a lazy pace, he used the other hand to grab your neck. His palm fit perfectly as he wrapped it around the column of your throat, putting pressure that was not enough to choke you, yet enough to show you who was in control. 
“Then let’s play,” he groaned while he pressed you back down on the bed. “But this time, I make the rules.” 
You felt the electrifying pleasure surging through your body as he brushed your hand away and lined himself against your entrance, shutting down the circuits inside your brain for a moment and stopping you from wiggling too much beneath him just to feel more friction. 
A sharp moan was drawn from your lips as Tae slammed his full length deep inside you. The sensation that you felt from being filled by his width was so feral and explosive that you were sure you immediately experienced your orgasm right then and there. 
Your body must have been shaking, which was a response that you failed to notice as you had your senses filled with the steady pulse of pleasure pressing across the girth of his cock. He must have noticed it when he came to a halt, giving you a chance to process everything and adjust to his presence inside you.
Nothing made sense to you beyond the pulsing pleasure that you felt from your hot pussy. Your senses were filled with the sound of your racing heartbeat, the soothing touch of his fingers on your skin, and the whispers of his voice calling you back to him. 
He only managed to bring you back to the present by pressing gentle kisses on your lips, nose, and then on the rest of your face, stopping only after he kissed your lips again to draw your attention back to him. 
Your legs were quivering when you opened your eyes to see him, yet you could already tell from the way the pulses that came right where you were joined started to settle, that your body had adjusted perfectly to his size. 
But it didn’t mean that you would simply take it without sharing your thoughts. 
“You’re—big,” you complained with a soft moan when you felt him growing harder inside you. It didn’t stop you from rocking your hips, trying to feel more friction, while he merely chuckled at your words. 
“And it’s perfect for your tight pussy.” 
His words drew a gasp from you. But he didn’t pay much attention to it, as he slowly began to move. He started with a slow pace, which was torturous and agonising, forcing you to feel the delectable way his girth was brushing against your pulsing walls. 
Back and forth he went, going so deep you could almost feel him pressing up your stomach before pulling out until only the tip was buried inside you. He kept moving at the same pace, until you began to feel more desperate. Even your body was shaking with the need to feel more. 
“More—!” you whispered with a strangled moan, “go faster.” 
Hearing this, instead of doing what you were begging him to, Tae denied your plea by doing the opposite. With a wicked grin on his face, the fucker slowed down, bringing the pleasure that had been rising back down a notch. 
You opened your mouth to protest against it, and he moved his hands down your hips, stopping at your thighs where he gave you a tight grip. 
“You want more?” he asked you, his voice almost seemed to grow deeper, and you could feel a tinge of danger when he spoke. The same danger you saw coming through his gaze as he slowly brought your legs up. 
You expected him to stop once he got your legs up his shoulders. But he just kept going. And going. Until you were nearly folded with your legs almost pressed to your chest.
“Tae—!” 
It made you feel vulnerable, with nothing but your hands to use to hold on while he had full control of your body. He was still buried inside you, and this position allowed you to feel him more. As though you had grown tighter around him and he was growing bigger. His entire length and width made you feel full, as his cock was pressing tightly against your hot walls. 
“You wanted more,” he murmured as he began moving, rocking his hips slowly back and forth, going in and out of you, drawing more and more of that shuddering pleasure out of your body as he continued fucking you gently. “I’m giving you more.” 
He began increasing his pace. Going faster the more he heard you moaning in pleasure. “Lift your arms, Red. Bring them up and hold the pillows.” 
It took a moment for his words to register in your head. Your hands had been clutching tightly on his forearms and it was a struggle to let go. And he waited, tormenting you by keeping his pace much too slow to your liking until you followed his command. 
Your hands trembled as you unlatched them from his skin. You could barely feel your fingers as you dragged your hands up, as every part of your body grew more sensitive the more you opened your entire self to him. Keeping your eyes on him, you got lost in his intense gaze. 
It was then when you finally came in contact with the soft pillows above your head, and your fingers easily sank into them, latching onto them as you did when you were holding onto his arms.
“That’s it. Good girl,” he murmured gently, and you were pleasantly surprised to realise how much you loved hearing his praise. Warmth bloomed in your chest, and it easily made its way down right to your core. “Now hold on tightly and don’t let go.” 
And you did just that. Holding on tightly the way he wanted you to. 
Only once he gained complete control of your body, once you fully submitted to him, he finally fulfilled your wish. He held firmly on your thighs to keep them folded and open for him, and he began ramming his cock deep inside you. 
He was doing it faster. Harder. Sending you high in pleasure while all you could do was take his constant pounding. The only leverage you had to hold on was the tight hold you had on the pillows and the weight of his body that was pressing you down each time he pushed deeply inside you. 
The anomalous sounds coming out of both of your lips kept bouncing off the walls. Followed by the sound of flesh clashing against flesh, the slick sounds that came from right where you were joined, and the creaking sound of the bed beneath you. 
He kept going, relentless in his rough thrusts and his need to push you over the edge, until you could feel the rise of your orgasm coming in waves. The wanton pleasure that was hot and intense came rising inside you, growing rapidly with his deep thrusts until you finally succumbed to it, coming into your climax with a scream. 
“Tae, I’m coming,” you cried out to him as you fell over the edge, though you weren’t completely sure if the words coming out of your lips were as coherent as you thought they would have been. 
The sound of your pounding heartbeat seemed to drown everything away. Except that you could still hear the sound of his breathless grunts as they grew clearer, and the strangled moan that came out of him when he shouted, “That’s it, Red. Fuck, I’m coming!”
With a sharp intake of breath, he came to his climax. You felt every pulse of his release as he came inside you, and the tremble in his chest that surged through him with his deep groan as he relished the pleasure. Even after his release, he kept moving, rocking slowly and steadily until the spasms of your orgasm slowly began to wane down. 
He remained buried inside you when he gently released you from his hold. You could barely feel his lips pressing on your quivering thighs before he lowered them back on the mattress, yet his gentle fingers remained hot on your skin when he brushed up against you. 
He reached up and gently pried your fingers away from the pillows before slipping his fingers between yours. The way your fingers were entwined together felt so intimate. So unlike anything that you had ever thought about what a one-night stand would entail. 
Your body felt hot, and your muscles were lax, but there was a series of small spasms still going strong from deep inside you, coaxed by his incessant rocking. You should have been pushing him off of you, instead of embracing his weight as he lowered himself, covering your body with his own. 
“Tae—” you whimpered against his lips as he kissed you. Holding your hands in his, he continued to rock his hips. 
How he managed to remain so hard and stiff even after his climax was beyond you. He still felt thick as he moved. His cock brushed against your pulsing walls as he went in and out, awakening all sparks of pleasure that were supposed to have dwindled. 
And with how sensitive your body was, it rose and peaked so quickly and you had no power to stop it. 
“Too…much…” you cried between the strangled moans coming out of your lips, right before he swallowed them with another kiss. 
“One more,” he groaned as he picked up his pace. “Just do it one more time for me, Red.” 
You were so sensitive it was beginning to hurt, but the pleasure was also maddening that you didn’t want to stop. This time, he wasn’t holding you down so strongly, allowing you to move beneath him. So you rocked back against him, pushing up each time he was thrusting into you. It only took a couple of more strokes before the coil in your core snapped, and you were sent to another climax. 
And he joined you in your release, falling into a smaller climax of his own as you clenched tightly around him. 
He came with a deep groan. His whole body quaked against you before he finally fell on top of you. While you were trying to control your breath, his lips came brushing your neck, kissing you gently to help soothe down the shudders running through your body.
“Fuck…so perfect,” he sighed between his kisses, his voice came in and out through your senses, and the sparks you felt rushing through your body started waning as you were slowly drifting away into the night, with his words echoing in your dreams,
“You are perfect.” 
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Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading so far. Any likes, kudos, comments, and feedbacks will be appreciated. The story continues in part 2.
© All rights reserved. 2024 Yoonia — Unauthorized use and/or duplication of these works, including reposting, translating and modification in any form, is strictly prohibited. 
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midmourn · 2 months
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you storm out after a fight
♡ nct dream ﹒ gender neutral!reader genre angst warnings language and just general warning for angst note if yall have any requests let me know 🫶 ( library )
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1K notes · View notes
hoony2k · 2 months
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HEART 2 HEART
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I aint never seen two chill idols in a room, one of them is always obesessed with the other. Or
Idol!enha giving idol!you heart eyes in professional settings.
PAIRING: ot7
GENRE: fluff, crack, established lovers, secret lovers, idol x idol
WORD COUNT: 3k (help)
WARNINGS: mentions of innocent kissing that's it. I got possessed during hoon and hee's.
NOTE: hii this was so fun. I kind of wanted niki and sunoo's to be a bit longer but I yapped a bit too much in general. this is massive for a 7 member drabble but 1 para wouldn't do justice. hope you enjoy!
Part 1 -> we dating fr?
Part 3 -> cut the cameras
requested masterlist
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★ HEESEUNG:
He thinks everything’s a game!!he thinks its funny! But mr lee who is laughing? Not him rn
You’re walking in the hallways after a quick trip to the washroom when suddenly someone grabs your arm and pulls you into a room. You’re ready to scream but he swiftly covers your mouth and chants “It’s me. It’s me” like that’ll help you understand why your boyfriend thought it would be a good idea to lead you into a small clothing room.
You want to get mad at him for a billion reasons but mainly because what if someone saw? and misunderstood! But his stupid smile tells you how he doesn’t care. Sometimes you want to have his optimism and confidence, maybe then you two could live a carefree idol life.
 Heeseung wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer to fiddle with the bows on your outfit and hair. Your faux anger slowly crumbles as he stares at you like you painted the night sky and hung the stars on it. Still, you break eye contact just to dust your pride and Heeseung can not stop laughing, finding you cuter than ever.
“I have to go soon. We can’t get caught”, you remind him, the overwhelming time restraint burdens you every time you meet him outside his dorms and as usual, Heeseung doesn’t mind. He shrugs casually, then gives you a reckless smile, eyes hooded. “Who cares?”
Your heart skips a beat in the best way but you purse your lips and pretend to think it over. A hum escapes you, tapping your finger on his chin. He leans closer.
“Probably our managers, you know?”, you say knowing he’s far too busy admiring your eye makeup to even care about the consequences of what would happen if someone were to open the door. So, you do the most logical thing a person subjugated with love could do. Taking his smiley face in your grasp, you turn his head and press a chaste kiss on his cheek, intentionally pressing into his skin to leave a stain.
You pull back to inspect the pink gloss on his cheek, lightly smudged. Heeseung looks like he’s floating but before he can pull any stunts you clap him on the back as a goodbye and quickly scurry out of the room. Not even bothering to check if someone was in the hallway.
If Heeseung stands alone dazed for a while…no one needs to know. He fights his demons when he brings out a tissue to remove your gloss, sobbing internally.
★ JAY:
You will be my girl my girl my girl <3
Jay had told you about how he’d film the Sweet Venom TikTok challenge with you to prepare you beforehand. You had learnt the dance long ago, but the mental preparation to become a different person in front of Jay from Enhypen and a camera took some mental energy. Acting like you were strangers and not a couple filming a silly video wasn’t what you wanted but you were thankful no one spread dirty rumours.
His manager held the camera to film some behind-the-scenes footage of Jay “teaching” you what to do in the challenge and it was kind of funny. But when it came to filming, Jay did everything to be able to spend some extra time with you without seeming suspicious.
He’d get the timing wrong on purpose, he’d bump into you, with the smallest nudge and he’d quickly pause the challenge to apologise. Each time he’d falter or force himself to be out of sync, to have one eye slightly closed, you’d laugh it off, genuinely finding his actions endearing.
He’s excited to film it with you, he can’t wait to show how good you two look, and how his dance style compliments yours, and he can’t wait to see his fans react, gushing over you, throwing heart emojis for his girl.
It was rare for to Jay get so stubborn so you entertained it and laughed. The manager didn’t mind as long as she farmed enough footage but eventually puts her foot down when the behind-the-scenes videos turns longer than 2 minutes and the challenge hasn't reached its middle yet.
She politely tells Jay to rehearse once more and she’d film it after that. The rehearsed one goes by smoothly; the steps are muscle memory at this point.
Before the final take, Jay wants to tell you good luck but almost slips and lays it all out in the open as he parts his lips to call you “Babe”. At the utterance of the first syllable, you snap your head in his direction, eyes piercing his soul, not a hint of a smile.
Jay catches his tongue and switches it to another similar word and thankfully it isn’t noticeable nor is it understood by the manager who assumes Jay’s nerves cause him to slur over his speech. No big deal.
Slightly nervous, Jay glances at you and you offer him an understanding nod. Then the final take begins and everything goes smoothly. When the challenge ends, you turn to bow and he thanks you for joining him. As the manager gives you a thumbs up and taps away on her phone preoccupied, you turn to Jay with a raised brow and he blushes.
“I don’t wanna talk about it”.
★ JAKE:
Personal space? Never heard of her
It’s been hours since you’ve arrived and Jake has not stopped smiling for even a second. He’s over the moon he can’t believe how well you fit into his social circle (enha) like a puzzle piece he was missing this whole time. He’s not sappy but he could write an entire sonnet on how gorgeous you look lounging on his bed, eating take out and brushing your hair back as you watch the movie with him.
But when you announce it’s time to leave, he does not stop sulking and begging you. Literally on his knees. The moment you try to get out of bed, he grabs onto your arm and pulls you tight into his embrace, nose in your hair, he pretends he’s asleep when you ask him to let go.
“My manager just texted me”, you tell him but your hands find his free hand. He rubs a thumb over your hand and you feel like you just kicked a wet puppy into mud. He groans into your hair, slowly and subtly, his legs wrap around your own as if he’s trying to merge your bodies.
“Tell her your phone exploded”, his voice is muffled and immediately you stop feeling bad.
You whine his name and try again but he refuses to budge, and when he tries to pull his bed covers on your frame, you decide to threaten him, “I’ll scream for Jay I’m not playing. I’m overdue curfew”.
“Door’s locked”. HELLO??
You sigh and let your head rest on his pillow that smells exactly like him, ignore the flutter in your rib cage and rest for just a minute. Jake mistakes it as a sign of you surrendering, his grip loosening. You don’t waste a second and throw his caged arms off and jump out of bed and he begins to sulk and wail at the loss of contact. But as much as you love him, you can finally breathe without the weight of your chest.
“I like the idol you better. The one who acts like he doesn’t know me”.
“He wouldn’t treat you like I do”.
He’s ready to have beef with idol Jake if it is meant to impress you. When he’s tying up your shoelaces for you, he’s like “I’ll walk you home” and you tell him he cannot do that because people are always snooping so you’ll get a taxi and he’s like “I’ll walk you downstairs and wait until you sit inside”.
How could you say no to his puppy eyes?
★ SUNGHOON:
he’s on cloud nine because his wish finally came true. He’s radiating light wherever he goes.
He sat next to you, far too close for it to appear platonic but Sunghoon told you not to worry. He tells you not to worry when he’s facing you, knees brushing, you can feel his body heat despite the cool in the room. You’re trying your hardest not to stare at him or how he’s rolled up his dress shirt sleeves despite his stylist’s scolding, or how they slicked his hair back with gel but left one strand to dangle on his forehead, how it curves and makes his eyes seem sharper than they are.
You’re trying, ok?
It’s better than Sunghoon who cannot stop leaning in your personal space as he reads his lines off your shoulder for some reason, he giggles when you try to push him away but he clings like a magnet. The floor vibrates with heavy bass, you’re up again in ten minutes and you need him to get serious.
Unlike him, it’s your first time mc-ing and despite his hype boy attitude, your fingers still shake as you read your lines out loud. Sunghoon’s smile flickers until he remembers he can do something to help.
“Hey, just focus on me”, he says calmly, ironically the one thing you’ve been trying not to do.
But, with blind trust, you agree and your gaze lands on his. His eyes twinkle and crinkle, he stares back at you and you think you’ve started to smile like an idiot. You turn your eyes to soak in his outfit once more, he matches your formal dress, a deep red satin dress paired with similar gloves. He’s adorned in dark slacks that emphasise his stature, and a dark dress shirt with a maroon tie. His tie is crooked-
Out of instinct or perhaps it stems from the urge to hold his hands, feel his heartbeat under your fingers, you reach out, hands settling on his shoulders, then inch towards his neck to tighten and straighten the knot. Sunghoon’s eyes don’t leave your serious expression, a lovesick smile hangs on his face. Your hands press onto the material to flatten it and fix his collars like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.
Something clatters and smashes loudly.
You rip your hands off his shoulders and he suddenly feels cold. Sunghoon pouts but you quickly turn away, surprisingly less scared than before. You glance in front and see your stylist give orders, someone says another band is preparing for an interview in 5. Finally, you grip the cards tightly in your hands but don’t even spare them a glance. Instead, you lock eyes with your lover who had been looking fondly at you the whole ordeal.
“let’s go over this one last time for your sake”.
Sunghoon laughs.
★ SUNOO:
Therapists hate him. He’s a mastermind at manipulation.
Both of you are chosen along with another idol and actor to partake in a reality show where you all live together and go on an adventure it’s all a great experience and you get to interact with new lovely people but when it’s late at night, the crew has gone to their hotel, cameras have been turned off, you, Sunoo and the actor gather at the dining table.
Sunoo keeps smiling at you and the actor and he offers to peel mandarins. As he peels, the conversation flows smoothly, his fingers work quickly and skillfully. Even though his eyes are downcast, his change in expressions tell you he’s listening to the conversation.
Out of respect, he offers the actor a plate with the most mandarin slices and out of habit, he slides to you the plate with the juiciest and scrumptious slices, choosing the dry ones for himself. You shyly thank him and Sunoo brushes it off. He only realizes what he’s done and how much of a deal it is when the actor questions if he’s a good friend of yours.
Sunoo bursts into laughter, eyes crinkling, he waves his hand in dismal, he looks at you up and down. You refuse to make eye contact.
“Something like that”.
His open-ended answer renders you speechless and you pretend to be busy when the actor looks at you. You untie your hair for it to cover your heated ears and fake cough as you take another bite.
Sunoo offers you a napkin. His hand stretches over the table and all eyes are on you, the actor is on the edge of his seat as he observes you like a hawk.
As nonchalant as you can be, you roll your shoulders and take it from him. Despite your efforts to avoid skin contact, Sunoo flicks his wrist and his fingers delicately brush yours, sparks light up inside your stomach.
You quietly thank him and he shows off his charming smile. the actor next to you sighs loudly and glances at the clock before thanking Sunoo for the mandarins. Sunoo shines another smile at the man who glances between the two of you.
“Chemistry like this is hard to find. If you two end up dating, I’ll be supporting you”.
This time you choke on the juice and Sunoo springs up to give you a glass of water and pats your back for safety. The actor nods once more then leaves. When the coughing fit dies down, you ask Sunoo what all that was about, he tells you not to worry. He peeks at the camera as a precaution, it’s got a lid covering the lens. Then, he bends down to kiss your hair and brings your plate closer to him so he can feed you. Your heart attempts to jump onto the table when he affectionately begins to stroke your hair as well.
Friends be damned, you’ve hit the lover jackpot.
★ JUNGWON:
He loves his job but hates all the parts where he has to be too pretend his personal life doesn’t exist.
“I wish you were here with me”, he says the moment you pick up. You pout, shoulders sag immediately. 
He notices this and almost feels bad as he caresses his phone screen like it’s a glass screen dividing him and the fish at an aquarium. The thought makes him laugh. He wants to spend the entire night talking to you, memorising your presence, pretending you're cuddled next to him but he can’t go through with his urges because you need to sleep.
Jungwon would never want you to disturb your sleep routine, no matter how many times you text or tell him that you want to do these things for him, it's only natural.
“I bought you a keychain”, you tell him, voice cracking over the call. He adjusts his camera, brows raised. You know what he’ll say so you answer, “You’ll see it when I give it to you”. 
He pouts and brings the camera closer to his face to coax you into showing it, his tired eyes sparkle and almost distract you from his dark circles. Your heart sinks. What time is it there? You don’t need to calculate because you had already memorized the time difference by heart before he departed.
“Baby, it’s 2 am there”. 
He shakes his head, hair flicking him in the eye, he squints up at you and unconsciously buries himself under his comfy hotel blankets. You stare at your lover, take in his appearance and admire how hard he works to achieve his dreams, how he wants to be a good boyfriend and tick all the boxes that make your heart soar. He looks like he’ll fall asleep in the peaceful silence so you grant him an offer. 
“Would you like me to sing you to sleep?”
His dimple greets you and under the covers where you can’t see, Jungwon rubs his legs together, giddy like a child. 
“Sing your next song for me”, he whispers and you gasp at him, taken back by the new information. It’s your turn to squint at him as you ask him about how he knew you were preparing for a comeback. He shakes his head and mumbles, “You changed your makeup”. 
Makeup…that was only evident in pictures. You hadn’t met him all dolled up behind stage due to your schedules and could barely fit an hour with him at his dorm because you two were so busy. Yet he had noticed, somehow in a supernatural but very Jungwon way and your face heated up.
Your melody filtered through his speakers, it only took a minute for Jungwon’s breathing to even out, his hand going limp and the phone falling backwards to give you a view of the ceiling light. 
Still, you finish the song and wish him a good night. Whisper a soft I love you in the dimly lit room, a saccharine confession that he’ll hear confidently soon. 
★ NIKI:
Bro thinks hes in an edit‼️literally moves slowly like that when he sees you, r&b song playing in this head
On the encore stage, other bands including yours bow to Enha and in those 4 seconds, Niki decides to take a shot.
He thanks you with a bow and when you turn your attention to Jungwon, Niki speaks your name. It's far too gentle to be caught in the mic and he faces his head toward you so the back of his head is captured by the camera.
But like a compass, you always find his voice, when he calls for you in the hallways or when he's talking to other people in his makeup room, your ears seem to find him before your eyes do.
As you turn your wide eyes to him, unaware of his plans, Niki's boxy smile vanishes. He gazes at you through lidded eyes that appear striker more so than ever due to his bold makeup and he renders you speechless, cupid shooting you with several arrows.
You're paused mid-bow, face heating up under Niki's stare and smug smile, professional composure crumbling. There's a siren going off in your head, the cameras!
But what do they know? They can't even see your lover's expression, only the tilt of his head and dark wavy hair that tickles his neck. A part of you, a possessive side is overjoyed they can't. Swiftly, Jungwon covers your body and gives Niki a nasty side eye which finally manages to pull you out of the trance.
You return to thanking them and saying whatever nonsense comes to mind, Jungwon understands but Niki cackles loudly. As fast as this interaction happens, you fall back and merge with the crowd that walks off stage.
Thankfully, no one could figure out what happened but they made assumptions based on your expressions. That hype dies down in the fandoms but Niki can't stop replaying the moment on his end. It's a free amv for songs, he's never going to stop thinking about it.
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Thank you for reading!
All rights belong to me. Please do not copy/translate/edit.
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yenqa · 2 months
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10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU — TEASER
READ HERE!
in which...
you hate heeseung. you hate his snobby little voice, his stupid little glasses that are too big for him, his nosiness, and his ability to prove anything or anyone wrong easily. you hate hate hate the way you try to avoid him, but somehow he’s always around, and he can’t see how much you hate him. you swear nothing could make you like him, but after you get caught in a sticky situation with him playing your knight in shining armor, you realize that maybe he isn’t so bad after all.
pairing — heeseung x fem!reader
genre — one sided enemies to lovers, highschool au, he falls first she falls harder, oblivious x obvious, tutor x tutoree (kind of), childhood friends (ish because the whole one sided enemies thing) to lovers, long fic
wordcount — teaser is 1005! fic est. 9k-13k words (hopefully not too ambitious)
warnings — profanity, kissing (no suggestive stuff or nsfw), miscommunication, parties/underage drinking, name calling (bitch, whore, stuff like that), food
featuring — lia of itzy, miyeon of g-idle, hyung line of enhypen (sorry maknaes too many people), ocs : sooyun + teachers
disclaimer — i am not saying this is an accurate representation of these idols or trying to sexualize them at all. this just something i do for fun.
release date — hopefully by mid march?
taglist — open! send an ask or comment to be added!
yenqa — watched the movie on the plane and i was kind of obsessed… but this does not follow the movie plot, i just thought the title fit
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YOU WATCH AS THE SNOW FALLS SLOWLY TO THE GROUND
A blanket of white has got you and the guests at your house locked in for the night. You weren’t very happy with these strangers staying at your house for the night—In fact, you had just been completely shut down by your dad when you asked him to kick them out. It was obvious why he did that, but this definitely had to be your least favorite christmas out of the eight you had been through.
You snap out of your thoughts, continuing to eat whatever you had left on your plate, hesitating when you saw the amount of vegetables still left.
“Mom! I’m full.” You try to hide your plate from her, showing her instead a pout with a hand on your stomach. 
It didn’t work—obviously, so you were stuck at the table, a frown on your face as you forced in the greens. Across from you, a boy your age, who didn’t seem to mind, he almost looked like he was enjoying it.
That’s impossible though, no one likes vegetables. Maybe he was doing it so Santa would get him an extra special gift?
You grumble when he finishes his place, showcasing his plate that had been licked clean to his mom. He stared at you for a second looking down at your—full plate then looking back at his mom, she said “Great job Heeseung!”. He returns his plate to the table with a smile. 
Stabbing your fork back into your food, you stuff it into your face, hoping that you would enjoy it as much as Heeseung did. Again, it didn’t work, and the bitter taste returned to your mouth.
After what felt like hours of groaning and complaining, you had taken the last bite of your food, a proud smirk on your face when you made eye contact with the boy from earlier, who only smiled at you in return. 
Throwing away your plastic plate, you realized that now it was present time, and Santa just had to reward you for your good deeds.
Rushing over to the tree, you spot everyone gathered around the area, opening their presents. You run to your present, recognizing the wrapping paper from last year. Looking at your mom for approval, she nods and you tear apart the paper, lifting up the box inside.
You squeal when you see the picture, you had been begging your mom for weeks for a Lego set, specifically if it was minecraft themed. And Santa had gotten you just that. You hug the box, squeezing it. You exclaim a loud “Thank you Santa!” before running up to your room to assemble the build.
Reading the directions, you start the house, quickly getting confused on how it isn’t looking like how it does in the picture. 
“I think that’s the wrong piece.” A voice says, you whip your head around to see the same boy who sat across from you.
“Who are you?” Your eyebrows furrow at the sight, confused on why those were the first words he said instead of “Hi!” or something.
“My name’s Heeseung—Um, my mom told me to come upstairs and said we should be friends. Do you want to be friends?” 
You huff, “I’m Y/n. Also no, I don’t want to be friends, you’re mean.” You force your legos together, frustrated already with the pieces. You continue to reread the directions, pushing—what you think are—the exact legos to the board. But it doesn’t seem like it’ll fit. Maybe if you push it harder?
“Oh—okay.” You jump slightly, too focused to realize how he's been watching you for the past few minutes. “Do you need some help?”
Yes, you need help. But did you want to accept his help?  . This was your christmas gift from Santa, you shouldn’t have to share.
Glancing at the picture then to the building that had looked like an abstract rendition of it, you let out a sigh. I mean, it wouldn’t hurt, right? “Yeah, I guess.”
He takes a seat on the carpet next to you, focusing hard on the directions before breaking off the wrong pieces, reassembling it so you’ll be on the right track.
“Does this go here, do you think?” “No, it goes here.”  That was a summary of what the conversation was between you, and somehow you were always the one asking the question. Sighing, you lean back, taking a short stretch break before starting again.
You’re shocked at his speed and efficiency, it almost seems like he’s always a step ahead of you. Geez does this guy ever slow down? 
The roles are quickly switched as you are sitting watching him instead. Rummaging through each box only for his eyes to lighten up one he finds the right one. You watch him for a while, getting a break that you very much needed.
You hope that he waits for you to finish it, or that he doesn’t completely do it all by himself because again,  it’s your Christmas gift, and he wouldn’t do that, right?
Not right, because apparently he’s a machine—he finishes the build. He stands up, pushes his stupid glasses up also and smiles at you, heading to the door. You think he’s going to say something else like “Sorry for taking away your present!” instead, he thanks you for sharing and happily skipping away. 
Heeseung. Even his name infuriates you. He was very unpredictable and you hated that. Why did he just do that? He’s so rude. People don’t make sense—especially boys, they have cooties.
Your head was filled with calling him the rudest things you could think of—You even said a few curse words.
Though later you realized that you probably would never see him again, you were ecstatic, so ecstatic you had disassembled your legos just to rebuild it, to completely forget about your bad experience with the boy. 
Only two weeks later were you disappointed to see that same boy, sitting across from you during dinner once again.
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perm taglist — @jwnghyuns @ja4hyvn @trsrina @redm4ri @badmuni @yeokii @enhastolemyheart @softpia @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @boyfhee @hanniluvi @teddywonss
yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.
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enluv · 3 months
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boyfriend texts – ft. stray kids
pairings: OT8 skz x (mostly) gn&fem!reader
genre(s): fluff/comedy for the most part, some comfort as well, and maybe a bit suggestive in some (minho’s) but not really, established relationships! skz love their partners sm ahhhhhh!
warnings: suggestive in some (nothing crazy), dark humor, curing probably, minho’s mentions cannibalism like once but NOT IN A BAD WAY I PROMISE and I think that’s all (lmk if I missed something!!)
enluv asks that you please do not spam like posts!
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coco’s ♥︎ note: happy new year my tooties!! it’s been a long year for us all, but sincerely hope that the next one will be better or equally as good as this one for you! thank you for all the support you’ve given me this year, it means so much to me! I hope to continue to bring you new skz content this coming new year :) I love you all and hope you enjoyed these!! as always, feedback and reblogs are always appreciated <3
stray kids taglist — @en-fvr @bloom-bloom-pow @enhacolor @fxckingshame @stealanity @haoreo @chaerybae @tytrackfebreze @veryjeongintxtkid @queen-klarissa @bangchansbae @odxrilove @borahae-reads @s00buwu @jiawji @haechansbbg @mxlly143
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onlyhuis · 11 months
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leaning on the everlasting arms
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member | childhood best friend! pastor's son!joshua x f reader genre | angst, smut, some fluff, bible college au word count | 10.3k (my first fic over 10k wowie!!) synopsis | as kids growing up in the same church, you and joshua were inseperable, until you got to an age where it was considered immoral for girls and boys to be friends. when you find him again just before graduation, he's different than you remember; but so are you. content warnings | female reader, she/her, reader is implied to be smaller (i'm sorry), discussion of gender roles & religion, no religion is mentioned by name but it's heavily implied to be a form of christianity, reader & shua are both seniors in college, reader wears skirts/dresses but not really by choice, this whole thing is pretty blasphemous oops smut warnings | descriptions of female anatomy, virgin!joshua x virgin!reader, mutual masturbation, phone sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (reader receiving), hints of a voice kink, size kink, praise, begging, really vanilla missionary but it's hot, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, angel) notes | although i am no longer religious, this is partially based off of my own experiences with the extremely traditional christian church i was raised in. however, please keep in mind that this is fiction and does not reflect my beliefs nor joshua's beliefs so don't take the plot too seriously. this piece is not meant to discuss whether certain religions are "right" or "wrong" so please do not comment/send me asks trying to start a debate! we're all just here for a little sexy time with shua it's not that deep note #2 | for those who aren't familiar, the title is the name of a hymn and i thought it was funny bc joshua big sexy arms hehehe
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as far back as you could remember, joshua was your closest friend.
his father was the pastor of the church your family went to, and as luck would have it you were both in the same grade, so it wasn’t long before you became inseparable. you saw him at minimum three times a week: sunday morning, sunday evening, wednesday evening.
you spent most of your childhood together. sitting next to each other at every service, sharing your bibles with each other whenever one of you left them at home, sneaking donuts away from the box at the table outside the sermon hall that was supposed to only be for the adults.
you did everything together, and told each other everything. that is, until you reached middle school. boys and girls weren’t allowed to sit in the same services anymore, and you had to stay in separate buildings for every church camp and conference. 
the worst part was you didn’t even understand why. what did they think you were gonna do with him? kiss him? no amount of money in the world could get you to do that! joshua was your best friend. who else were you supposed to climb trees and build forts and sneak donuts with? kissing was stupid.
when you asked your mom about it, she told you the same thing everyone else did: about how men of god had a different path and needed to hear different messages in order to grow up to lead their own churches one day. you thought it was stupid. what if a woman wanted to lead a church, why are men the ones that have to do it? but she would just shake her head and tell you it's just the way things work in the church, you'll understand when you're older.
you were allowed near him less and less until the only time you were able to see him was at the after-service brunch with his family, and even then that began to happen less and less as the years went on.
and of course it was church rules, so there was no arguing with them because that would mean arguing with god, and who were you to question his authority? there would be no special exception for you, no matter how much you protested to your mom that you would never, ever think about joshua like that. in a fit of anger one day you blew up at her, shouting that she had had friends of the opposite gender when she was in high school, so why couldn’t you? it wasn’t fair. but she had just sighed and stared out the window, clearly ending the conversation. many years passed before she finally told you about her life before she came to church, recalling all the times she had been hurt by men she had loved and trusted. you understood then why she had wanted to keep you sheltered and safe, but you still didn’t agree. but then again, if you had been allowed to do what you wanted then maybe things would never have ended up the way they did. perhaps you have her to thank.
back then, all you could do was hold on to the little time you had with him until eventually you stopped seeing him altogether. 
more summers passed and you started spending all of your time memorizing bible verses with your fellow “women of christ”, missing the way you used to spend your time with your best friend.
but then you went off to bible college like had always been planned for you, and everything changed. instead of continuing to follow the strict schedule that was laid out for you, you finally got a little taste of freedom, and you realized what you’d been missing all this time. everything that you’d been taught was sinful, evil, wicked, was what brought you more pleasure than you’d ever known was possible.
you still had to pretend to be a good girl for the people around you, who, for reasons you couldn’t comprehend, were still dedicated to their life of purity. or at least they acted like it. maybe everyone was secretly just like you, hiding their sins behind a friendly smile and a firm handshake every sunday morning.
you weren’t hurting anyone with the things you did in private, and the feeling of rebellion was a kind of satisfaction you didn’t know you were allowed to feel. you were an adult, making your own choices now and facing whatever consequences that came with them.
there was only one consequence. for some reason, all the impure thoughts you had always centered around joshua. no matter what dirty books you read or videos you watched, the man you always pictured giving it to you was joshua.
you hated that after all these years, everything still came back to him. you fought it, tried imagining actors or celebrities in his place instead; characters from your books and movies and shows, anyone but him. you wanted to save whatever memories you had left of him, think of him in a good light like you used to when you were younger, but the way he plagued your mind was worse than the ones in the book of exodus.
but now, in your final year of college, you thought you had finally gotten yourself under control.
that is, until you were leaving one of your bible lectures and all the control you’d convinced yourself that you had crumbled away in mere seconds when you saw a startlingly familiar face standing by the door. a face you hadn’t seen in far too long. 
“joshua?”
“hey,” he says with a smile, like no time has passed at all. like it’s been hours since you’ve seen each other, not years. 
there are so many things you want to say, so many things you want to ask him, but you’re frozen in place. why is he here? where has he been? how did he find you again?
“it’s been a while,” he says with an awkward laugh when you don’t say anything.
you nod, still in a daze. “yeah. quite a while.”
he smiles. “well, anyway, i’ve got a meeting to go to in a bit, but… i just wanted to see you.”
“oh,” you say. what else is there to say? what can you say to make up for the years lost that you’ll never get back?
he looks at his watch, the conversation clearly coming to an end.
“can i give you my phone number?” he says. a deep shade of pink creeps into his cheeks but he either doesn’t notice or purposely doesn’t acknowledge it. “maybe we can talk sometime, catch up.”
“i– yeah,” you manage. god, it’s so good seeing him again. “yeah, that would be really nice.”
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you’ve given up on homework for the night, spending your entire afternoon in a daze since you ran into joshua.
so many years, yet you still can’t get his smile out of your head.
you close your eyes, hand dipping below the waistband of your pajama pants automatically. it’s frightening how easily you’re able to bring up a picture of him in your mind, so much clearer than before now that you’ve seen what he looks like all grown up.
and grown up, he has. you had been too stunned to get a good look at him while he was in front of you, but the way he’d changed was immediately apparent and the image in your brain now feels almost unreal. 
his hair was a little longer and a little darker, and he was much taller, with broad shoulders that looked way too perfect in a suit jacket. but his face hadn’t changed a bit. maybe his jaw was a little bit sharper and his smile lines were a little bit deeper, but his eyes were the same ones you had always known. 
your hand slips lower and lower until you’re gently running the tips of your fingers over the panel of your underwear covering your pussy, moaning quietly when you feel how wet you are already.
no wonder it’s been so hard for you to focus all day. you’ve been too busy pushing away thoughts of joshua burying his fingers in your tight, wet cunt, cooing about how good you’re being for him and how long he’s waited for you.
automatically you feel your other hand grabbing for your phone, desperate to hear his voice again. you hadn’t said more than a few sentences to him earlier, but you feel like you’ll go crazy if you don’t hear him while you’re in this state. so needy for him and only him, and he doesn’t even know it.
your fingers shake as you press the buttons, knowing you’re about to get yourself into a whole world of trouble but not being able to stop yourself.
“hey.” he answers on the second ring. his tone is deep and husky, and your breath catches in your throat for a second, not used to hearing him talk like that; the last time you heard his voice was long before puberty, and you’re still navigating how to talk to this older, sexier joshua.
your first thought is to wonder if his morning voice sounds equally as sexy, but you’re immediately pushing it out of your head when you hear what sounds like him stifling a yawn.
“sorry, did i wake you? it– it’s not important,” you start, ashamed of how needy you are that you’d call him in the middle of the damn night, unprovoked, like some kind of bible group booty call.
the regret is already starting to set in. he probably hasn’t changed as much as you've built him up in your mind, probably still the obedient gentleman he was before. he’s probably already well on his way to being the head of a church, so of course he wouldn’t be thinking about you like that—
“no. it’s fine,” he says, interrupting your thoughts. “always have time for you, sweetheart. what’s up?”
you shove down the butterflies that flutter up in your stomach at the name he calls you, a nickname he always called you when you were kids because he was taught it was always polite to talk sweet to a lady. 
except it feels so much different now. talking sweet to a lady as kids was easy, innocent. but one wrong word now would completely change the meaning behind those pretty words of his, and you aren’t sure how to feel about it.
“i… just– it’s been so long, joshie,” you whisper, surprised at the sudden feeling of tears springing up behind your eyes. you didn’t mean for this to happen— you didn’t mean for any of it to happen. not back then, and certainly not now.
he lets the line go quiet, finally sighing into the phone after a long pause. “i missed you… so much.” he murmurs your name, and the way the rumble in his voice goes straight through you immediately reminds you why you called him in the first place.
your free hand toys with the hem of your underwear again, fighting to keep down the whimper that threatens to escape you. “missed you too,” you breathe out. god, you can’t believe you’re doing this. but for the first time in years, the man you’ve been picturing in your head is right here with you, fulfilling some of your fantasies that you never thought could ever come true.
somewhere deep in your stomach you feel guilty about it, getting off to the thought of him and he doesn’t even know it. would he want to know? would he be okay with it? would he hate you forever if he knew?
he clears his throat, snapping you back to attention and you realize you must’ve been silent for a while, thinking.
“um, so, what are you doing?” you ask, trying to seem casual, but it comes out as anything but. nobody calls anyone this late at night and asks what they’re doing without having a dirty reason for doing so. 
all you can do is hope he’s either too innocent to pick up on it, or that he doesn’t believe you’re the type of person who would call for something like that. you wonder if he still thinks of you as that perfect little obedient church girl he grew up with.
“nothing, just–working on… stuff,” he replies awkwardly. clearly he doesn’t want to go into detail about what he’s doing, and you’re already afraid you’ve interrupted his sleep; you’re mentally kicking yourself for all the blunders you’ve made, and you haven’t even been on the phone for five minutes.
“what are you doing?” he asks back, and you freeze, trying to come up with some excuse, anything. fuck, think of something!
“h-homework,” you sputter out, attempting to hide your unconfident answer with a cough.
apparently it works, because he hums in response, the line falling quiet. you hear the rustling of papers on his end, and you press your fingers harder against your cunt, heartbeat racing in your ears.
your fingers brush against your clit a little rougher than you intend, and a little whine escapes your lips, catching you off guard. you slap a hand over your mouth, hoping it had been too quiet for him to hear and he hadn’t been paying attention.
“are you…?” he asks suddenly, and your cheeks flush, caught red-handed in your sinful act.
you clear your throat, praying (both metaphorically and literally) that he doesn’t notice anything off about you. “am i what?”
his silence on the other end of the phone speaks volumes.
“joshua, oh my god, no, i–”
“what did you just say?”
you freeze. “what… did i say?”
when he speaks again, his tone is even. “don’t you know it’s a sin to take the lord’s name in vain, sweetheart?”
that nickname again, and now you know he’s doing it on purpose. innocent, pretty words, completely changed in a split second.
you let out a short laugh, scrambling to find a cover. “must’ve forgot then.”
he hums. “i remember you spent a whole month trying to memorize the ten commandments. we must’ve been what, eight or nine? you wouldn’t have forgotten. i may not have seen you since we were kids, but i’ve still known you most of my life.”
“it was an accident, you know how it is. just slips out. of course i remember them all.”
he tsks, and it feels like your heart stops. “did you forget that lying is a sin, too? you’re two for two now, wanna try for a third?”
damn him! damn his good memory and damn his stupid witty comebacks and damn the way he so quickly manages to unravel you.
you scowl and don’t respond to his question, your silence enough of an answer for joshua to know he’s right.
“why did you call me tonight?” he asks calmly.
you answer truthfully this time. “just wanted to hear your voice again. i really did miss you.”
the phone goes quiet again, and for a second you’re afraid he’s hung up, but then you hear him exhale. “it’s late. what are you doing?”
“i’m in bed, josh. don’t worry, father, i’m not staying up past my bedtime.”
he chooses to ignore your remark. “in bed doing what?”
you give him a half-suppressed laugh. “in bed laying down. what else would i be doing?”
“well, with the way you were trying to hide your moans earlier, i would’ve figured you were doing something more exciting. but if you’re just laying down, then i don't want to keep you long, might as well hang up…”
“no!” you squeak out, cutting him off. you swallow, trying to collect yourself as you repeat the word. “no. fine, whatever, you caught me. but– please, stay.” you can hear the plea in your voice and you know you should be embarrassed at how pathetic you sound, but you aren't. the only thing you can think about is joshua, joshua, joshua, and how good it feels to talk to him again.
“i’m here,” he says softly, and you let your eyes close with a sigh, relieved he’s not going to chastise you. but as much as you’ve both changed as you grew up, deep down you knew he wouldn’t. you figure you could do just about anything and he wouldn’t try to tell you what to do. he’d always been like that, and it’s what you’d loved about him; he never tried to control you or shame you for not acting like the perfect little angel everybody wanted you to be. 
you couldn’t say the same about others in the church. maybe that’s why you’d started to drift away from them and why joshua’s friendship coming to an end had left you so devastated. he had been the one and only person you could always count on, and they had not.
“are you still there?” he asks gently, and you realize you’ve been quiet for too long thinking.
“yeah,” you say finally.
“are you still touching yourself?”
you pause, stifling a gasp, taken aback by his forwardness. hearing him say it out loud made everything seem so real, the realization setting in about what you’re actually doing. “n– no.”
and it’s true. your hand has long since dropped away from your pajama pants, too nervous about being discovered to continue.
“well, why not?” he says. “don’t stop on my account.”
your mouth falls open. “i–”
“clearly you wanted something from me when you called. what is it, sweetheart? i can’t help you if i don’t know what it is you want.”
your brain practically short circuits at that, and it takes a very long minute for you to collect your thoughts into a coherent sentence. you want a lot of things, but you don’t know what’s okay to say or not or if he even wants to keep going. which is a silly thought, because he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want to know. it dawns on you that maybe… maybe he’s curious, maybe he’s thinking about you, too.
“what kind of help?” you ask, still testing the waters. you think you have an idea of what he means, but you ask anyway. you’ve never done anything like this with anyone else, only by yourself; not because you didn’t want to, but because you didn’t want it to be with someone who wasn’t joshua.
“you said you wanted to hear my voice,” he says, and you swear his tone has dropped an octave. “then let me talk to you.”
you whine a little, still holding back but not putting in as much effort to hide it. “m’kay.”
“would it make you feel better if i told you i’m hard right now?”
you suck in a breath. “yeah?”
“yeah,” he says. “just thinking about you.”
you feel a rush of emotion at his admittance. pride? satisfaction? whatever it is, it makes your cunt throb, knowing that just the thought of you can get him going.
finally you dare to slide your hand down your pants again, unsurprised when you find your underwear sticking to you with how wet you are. you’re soaking, and you haven’t even done anything yet.
“hold on,” you manage, putting the call on speaker as you set your phone on the table beside your bed, scrambling to shove your pants and ruined panties off and onto the floor.
once free, you pick up your phone and turn off the speaker, holding it to your ear with shaky hands.
“all ready now?” he asks softly, and it reminds you of what he used to say before you’d play pretend games together. always making sure you were ready. he was hot back then, too, and you mentally curse yourself for never realizing it sooner.
you hum. “mhm. comfortable.”
“good,” he says, and you can almost hear him smiling. “go ahead and do whatever you’d like. but i want you to tell me what you’re thinking about right now.”
you squirm a little on the bed as you start to circle your clit with your fingers. “thinking about you, joshua,” you sigh, finally beginning to feel relief.
“yeah?”
“yeah. you look even better than i thought you would,” you groan, picking up your pace a little as you slip your index finger inside your walls.
he chuckles. “oh, really?”
“mhm. god, i never thought i’d be doing this. especially not with you.”
“and why is that, baby?”
the name makes you shiver. you’d imagined him calling you it many times, but hearing him actually say it is completely different.
“because—” you whimper, losing your train of thought when your brain suddenly pictures his fingers inside you instead of your own. “i’m so close already, please—”
his tone is gentle but firm. “i want you to stop now.”
“but– ah, feels so good, shua,” you say, moans spilling out of you, finally letting him hear everything you’ve been holding back.
you hear him curse in that low voice through the phone, and your hand stills for a split second in shock, your eyes widening. as far as you knew, he never swore. but then again, there were a lot of things he never did that you're discovering about him now. looks like you weren’t the only one who changed over the years.
“that’s not my name.”
you sit up a little in confusion, pushing your phone closer to your ear to make sure you’re hearing him right. “huh?”
“my name is joshua. if you’re gonna moan like a sinner about how good it feels when i tell you how to touch yourself, you better use my name properly.” he sounds almost angry, but it only spurs you on even further.
you let his words sink for a second before responding. “yes, sir.”
“fuck,” he moans, he actually moans, and if you weren’t already so far gone you would’ve stopped to listen closer, to ingrain the noise in your brain so you never again forget how he sounds. “what did i just tell you?”
“what, you don’t like being called ‘sir’? thought you wanted to be a pastor, joshua,” you say with a smirk, and you know he hears the mischief in your voice, daring him to give you what you want.
it’s probably a good thing he’s not physically in the room with you, because there's no way you would have been able to muster up the courage to say something like that to his face. you wouldn’t have dared to even look him in the eyes, but being on the phone gives you a head rush. because with only his voice and not seeing his face, you can convince yourself that he still isn’t real, that this whole phone call and even your meeting earlier had just been an elaborate figment of your horny imagination, your denial being the only thing saving your last shred of dignity.
“didn’t realize you’d grow up to be even more of a brat than you were before,” he scoffs, and your cunt pulses. 
“what are you doing right now?” you say, a little desperately. the change of subject isn’t very subtle but you don’t care. you won’t lie, you’ve been curious since the start of what he’s doing but he’s been so focused on you he hasn’t said anything about himself. you want to know everything about him— how he’s moving his hands, where he puts pressure, what he thinks about to get himself closer and closer.
he grunts unceremoniously. “i’m fucking my hand and pretending it’s you.”
“me too,” you whimper, closing your eyes as you focus on the movement of your fingers.
after a while he stops responding, and you can hear his heavy breaths over the line matching with your own gasps for air as you curl your fingers inside of you. you figure he must be getting close, but you ask him anyway, because you want to hear him say it.
“yeah– fuck, so close,” he chokes out, and the way his voice gets higher as he lets out a whimper is what finally makes you come undone.
with a moan of his name—his full name—you cum, clenching around your fingers as you struggle to keep your hand moving. your wrist is starting to cramp up a little from the position you’ve been in, but the pleasure coursing through you is more than worth it. it’s almost dizzying, more powerful than any orgasm you’ve had before and when you finally remove your fingers from your aching cunt your head is spinning and your heart is pounding.
you can hear a muffled string of curses through the phone and you know he’s right behind you. thoughts of him sitting on his bed run rampant in your head, imagining his stomach covered in milky cum and his pretty, pretty lips parted as he catches his breath.
the silence is heavy as you feel yourself come back down from your high. you struggle to find something to say after… whatever that just was, so you say the only thing that’s on your mind.
“i really did miss you, joshua,” you say quietly. unlike before, there’s not a hint of teasing in the way you say his name now.
and he sighs contentedly, finally hearing his name on your lips like he always wanted to. “i know. i missed you too.”
you both say your goodbyes and good nights quickly, still basking in enough of the remnants of your orgasms to not be too awkward about it. but after you’re settled in bed (for real, this time) and about to fall asleep, you can’t help but wonder if things between you and joshua will ever be anything but awkward.
a memory surfaces: you and joshua running around at the park behind the church after a sunday evening service, no older than kindergarteners, laughing and playing until you collapse on the grass. your mom called for you both to get ready to go home, and no you’re not allowed to have a sleepover because it’s a school night but maybe this weekend if his mom is okay with it. before you ran off, he thrust his pinky out towards you and you shook on it, making a pact to always be best friends, even when you can’t have sleepovers. it didn’t ever occur to either of you that there might come a day where you wouldn’t be best friends.
you don’t remember what prompted him to make the pinky promise, but you know he’s never broken it. and you can only hope that he hasn’t forgotten it.
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it’s a few days later at one of your bible study groups when you see him next, and yet again you’re caught off-guard like a deer in headlights.
you’re sitting with a group of other ladies, annotating material for a test you couldn’t care less about when you hear your name called out– a familiar deep voice you can only pray doesn’t belong to who you think it belongs to.
oh, but it does belong to him, alright. it feels like you’ve gotten the wind knocked out of you when you turn around and see joshua standing behind you, a warm smile on his face that makes you doubt anything ever happened. maybe it really was all just a delirious dream, too many years of yearning built up into one intense wet dream.
he puts a hand on your shoulder lightly, turning you away from the rest of the ladies. “hey, can we talk somewhere?”
and oh shit it was definitely not a dream.
your cheeks burn as you excuse yourself from the table, packing up your bible and pens and shoving everything in your bag as quickly as you can. you can almost hear the snickering already, the gossips whispering to each other that you must have done something unspeakable if the top-student, pastor’s son, joshua hong has to speak with you privately. ah, if only they knew.
you only wish you could go back there and wipe the smirks off of all their faces and tell them about what the perfect little gentlemen they all pretend they don’t have crushes on was doing on the phone with you last night. you wouldn’t do that, not in a million years, but just the thought of it is satisfaction enough. 
joshua leads you down the hall to a room that looks like an empty office. he opens the door for you, then closes it softly behind you.
“whose is this?” you ask, glancing around the room. 
“it’s… mine,” he says almost shyly, gesturing idly to a little engraved nameplate on the desk. joshua hong, pastor’s assistant. because of fucking course he would be.
“oh.”
he clears his throat, and in that moment you realize he’s just as nervous as you are. “listen…” he starts, taking a pause. “about the other night–”
“are you gonna kick me out?” you interrupt.
his brows knit together in confusion. “what?”
“are you gonna expel me?”
“no?” he says, still looking at you, baffled. “why would i do that? i don’t even think i have the power to, even if i wanted. which, for the record, i don’t.”
you don’t reply, focusing your gaze on the carpet instead.
he frowns. “is that really how you think of me? that i just go around tattling to my dad? from that… conversation, i thought it was clear i’m not like that anymore.”
the tips of your ears are burning at the memory of all the things you said to each other over the phone. but it never occurred to you that maybe he was just as sinful as you had been.
you stay quiet, the silence stretching on as shame and embarrassment and a hundred other emotions swirl in your mind and you struggle to figure out what to say.
luckily for you he fills the silence himself. he exhales, looking down at a stack of papers on the desk. “god, you… you don’t know how much i missed you. i thought about you all the time.”
“so did i,” you manage to whisper. “in more ways than you know.”
he gives you a teasing smile. “oh, i have a feeling i do know.”
you hold back a cough and look away, focusing your attention on a painting of flowers on the wall. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“if that’s how you wanna play this, fine.”
your curiosity piques, and you look back at him. he motions to the seat in front of the desk, wordlessly asking you to sit. hesitantly you do, and he starts to sit down at the swivel chair behind the desk, but you clear your throat and he glances up.
“can– can you not sit over there?” you ask softly. “feels like i’m being scolded.”
his expression softens a little, and he rolls the chair back into place, opting to sit next to you instead. “of course.”
except maybe you shouldn’t have asked him to do that, because now he’s sitting toe to toe with you and the closeness is overwhelming. at least on the other side of the desk there was enough distance for you to shrink and hide behind, but here, sitting like this, he can see all of you. and you don’t particularly want to be seen right now.
the tension is palpable as he takes his seat, still watching you. you take the moment to study his features: the slope of his nose and the gentle curve of his lips, the way the light catches on his long eyelashes and the way his broad shoulders look in that perfectly tailored sunday morning service suit.
“i always liked you,” he starts, and your gaze shoots up to his eyes. you open your mouth to ask something, but he shakes his head and you immediately fall silent, letting him finish. “i was almost glad when they made us go to different sunday school classes, because i wouldn’t have to sit there and pretend i didn’t have the craziest crush on you.”
“joshua, i–” you trail off, not even knowing what to say.
he pauses, as if debating his next words. “and i know it’s wrong, but i couldn’t get you out of my head when i… y’know.” his cheeks are flushed but he doesn’t look away from you, eyes searching your own for any hesitance or any sign that you don’t want this.
it’s then that you realize that the boldness you had felt hiding behind your phone, he had felt it too. saying words alone in your room at night was easy. sitting in public, in the daylight, and saying those same words to his face was so much scarier. and knowing that you’re both feeling awkward and shy and a little uncertain of how to talk about it gives you the confidence to keep going.
“when you would what?” you pry. you already know the answer but you want to hear it come out of his mouth anyway. you’ve already heard him say it, but something about sitting in his office, in a church, speaking such filth ignites a spark in you that’s completely different from the spark you felt a few nights ago.
he clears his throat and looks you in the eye, maybe gaining a little bit of that confidence, too. “when i would jerk off i would always wish it was your sweet little mouth instead of my own hand.”
you inhale sharply, and that’s when he finally breaks eye contact, his guilt-ridden gaze shifting to the wall behind you as his cheeks burn redder. “i didn’t feel good about it. felt like i was doing it without your permission, and i didn’t want that. i–”
“yes,” you say hurriedly.
he stops short at your interruption, instantly looking back at you. “yes…?”
“yes, you have my permission. whatever you want, joshua, always.”
his eyes narrow, almost imperceptibly, but you recognize it. even after all these years, after so much has changed, you still know his tells. you wonder if he still knows yours.
he murmurs your name in response, almost like a warning. “don’t say stuff like that,” he says, letting out a shaky breath.
“why not?” you ask, feigning innocence. but you know exactly what you’re doing, and you know exactly how you affect him: the same way he affects you.
he looks up at you. “you really are just as much of a brat as you were back then, aren’t you?” he says with just a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“why don’t you find out?”
he groans, leaning back in his chair. “do you know how long i’ve wanted to kiss you?” he says finally.
“probably just as long as i’ve wanted to kiss you,” you counter, and he raises an eyebrow.
you both stand up at the same moment, closing the distance in less than a second. 
you stare at his chest in front of you to avoid his eyes, until he brings up a hand and gently tilts your chin, forcing you to look at him.
“are– you gonna get in trouble?” you breathe, heartbeat pounding in your ears as you stare at his perfect, perfect lips.
he hums, and it sends a shiver down your spine at the close proximity. “are you still giving me permission?” he asks, and you quickly shake your head yes. 
“always.”
he smooths his thumb across your cheek. “then i won’t be in any trouble at all."
and then his hand moves to hold the back of your neck and he's tilting his head and bringing his lips towards yours and then finally, after years of dreaming about it and even more years of denying it, you're finally kissing joshua and there's so many things happening at once that you can't seem to focus on anything because your mind is so full of everything and nothing and joshua and it all just feels so right.
you’re melting in his arms and falling into his touch and enjoying every fucking second of it. your heart speeds up when his hands slide behind your back, wrapping around your body to pull you closer to him, pressed chest to chest.
he pulls away to kiss you again, and again, and again, and you decide you’d be content to be like this forever, standing in his office in the church building making out like you’re the only two people on earth. 
but finally his lips leave yours, and he takes a tiny step backwards, heaving out a shaky breath as he looks you in the eyes. “what are we gonna do now?”
your heart plummets, doubts racing through your mind. did he not like it? does he not like you? did you really just ruin everything? why did he stop? why did he ask that—
but all your questions are answered in an instant when he coughs and you look down, finally noticing the prominent bulge in his dress pants. oh. that.
when you look back up at him his cheeks are flushed bright red, and he immediately begins to apologize.
“shua,” you call out to him, repeating his name the way you know he likes. “joshua. don’t worry about it. it’s fine.”
in fact, you find it incredibly flattering, that just a few kisses and gentle touches could get him this worked up. maybe it really has been you all along.
with a surge of confidence, you step back towards him, wrapping your arms around him and leaning to kiss him. “are you busy today?” you murmur, your cheek brushing against his.
he shudders, hands automatically finding your waist and pushing your hips against his own. “no. are you?”
you sigh, kissing the corner of his mouth. “not anymore.”
“fuck,” he curses, his grip on your body tightening “you really want to…?” he asks, almost shyly, as if he’s in denial this is really happening.
“absolutely,” you say, and you’ve never meant anything more in your life.
in a second he’s got you shoved against his desk, sending papers flying to the floor as he lifts you by your ass to sit you down on top of it. your kisses turn rougher and needier, your hands grabbing at anything you can reach to ground yourself: his hair, his shoulders, his back.
finally he breaks free, dropping to his knees in front of the desk. “please, let me eat you out.”
you moan out loud, probably too loudly for the thin walls of the office. but the visual of him on his knees to do anything other than pray drives you mad, and you need more of him, desperately. “joshua, please.”
he pushes your skirt up your thighs, moving it out of his way so he can stare eye to eye with your pussy. you whimper and instinctively try to hide your face in embarrassment, but something tells you he wouldn’t like that, so you resist, keeping your hands firmly planted on the edge of the desk.
“fuck, you’re soaking,” he says, his voice broken. “you’re so perfect.”
his hands reach up to tug at the hem of your underwear, and he looks up at you, silently asking for permission to continue. you nod eagerly, lifting your hips off the desk so he can slide them off of you, revealing your glistening entrance.
he whines at the sight, pretty lips parted in shock? awe? as if he can’t wait to taste you. he pushes his face into your pussy, gently at first, but when you moan and bring your hand up to his hair he dives deeper.
the moment he attaches his mouth to your clit, you jump, gasping as you try to shut your legs around his head but his large hands keep you held open. his tongue explores every inch of you, moving back and forth, up and down, mapping out your cunt with his mouth. 
“fuck, never dreamed you’d taste so good,” he sighs against your pussy, leaning away to take a breath after what feels like forever.
your legs are shaking and your cunt is throbbing as you also try to catch your breath. you’re not used to being touched like this and you’re definitely not used to being touched by joshua. so many thoughts running through your head and not a single one of them coherent enough to put into words. all you can do is weakly whine out joshua’s name and tug on his hair, pleading for him to keep going. you need release, and you don’t want it from anyone but him.
he stands up, his pants wrinkled from kneeling on the floor but still tented with a bulge so uncomfortably large you feel dizzy just thinking about it. you don’t even know if he’s going to fuck you or even if he wants to, but god you want to see his cock so bad. too many restless nights spent thinking about it, and now you might finally have the chance to see it in front of your face.
your mouth waters at the thought, and you start to slide off the desk, but joshua stops you. “what are you…?”
you look up at him, eyes blown wide with lust and you don’t even attempt to hide your eagerness. “please let me suck your dick. joshua, please.”
he whines, running a hand through his hair. “god, i want that so bad, but… i don’t think i can last if you do, and i was really hoping to fuck you.”
you close your eyes and roll your head back, moaning at his vulgar confession. but he sighs, and he sounds almost defeated, and you look back at him quickly, afraid he’s suddenly changed his mind.
“i’m not—prepared,” he admits, and you tilt your head in confusion before it sinks in what he means.
“ah. don’t suppose you would have any condoms lying around, would you, mr. pastor’s assistant?” you ask playfully, and he shoots you a glare.
“brat,” he mutters under his breath, but you hear it, and your walls clench in response. “no, i don’t have any. not interested in anybody else, so… no reason to.” he looks like he has more to say, more serious things to say, but he keeps his mouth shut, his eyes searching your face nervously.
your stomach flips at his words, feeling your cheeks heating up. you hadn’t thought you would ever get this far, and especially not with him. because of the kind of school you were at, it wasn’t like the people here were doing the kind of things you’ve been doing—at least not publicly. even if you’d wanted to hook up with somebody (which you didn’t), everyone in your vicinity would shame you for even bringing it up. you may have experience with yourself, but anything with anyone else is completely new territory for you.
you fall silent, not sure how to continue the conversation as all your newfound confidence begins to crumble. what were you thinking? caught up in the heat of the moment, saying things you weren’t sure you meant. you were in love with him: that much you were sure of. but everything that comes after that is too new, too scary, at least for right now. you can barely even comprehend that he just went down on you, but you know you enjoyed it and honestly, you’d give anything for him to do it again. but there’s too much going on inside your head for you to even begin to process that right now.
he calls your name and you blink, looking back at him anxiously. “we… don’t have to. right now, or even at all,” he says gently. the tips of his ears are burning red but his voice is calm and steady.
“joshua, i want to,” you start, clasping your hands tightly together in your lap to give you something to focus on other than the way he’s watching you so intently. “but i– don’t know how.”
“neither do i, baby,” he says. the nickname makes you shiver; even though it’s not the first time he’s called you that, especially after the other night, you’re still not used to it. but somehow it’s comforting, and it makes you relax knowing that he’s still the same person you grew up with, the same person that knows almost everything about you. you’ve both changed so much, but deep down you haven’t changed at all.
he pauses when you don’t say anything back. “we’ll wait, then,” he says and wraps his arms around you, lightly at first but then squeezing when you don’t try to pull away. “we have all the time in the world. no need to rush.”
“we… do?” your voice is laced with uncertainty.
he smiles. “of course. i let you go once already, i’m not letting it happen again. never again.”
you turn your head away from him and hide your face, flustered by how sincere he sounds. he hums, and you can hear the pout in his tone so you fight your embarrassment and turn back towards him to ask the question that’s been weighing on your mind since you first saw him days ago. “this is gonna sound so stupid, but… shua, what are we?”
first you were childhood friends, you were best friends, and then you were nothing. right place, wrong time? and then you were… doing something on the phone together, whatever you could call that. and now you were just sitting on top of his desk, sweating from having almost had sex. how do you even begin to put a label on this?
“well, i’d like to be yours,” he says shyly, and just like that all your questions are answered with six small words. you realize it doesn’t matter what label you have; as long as you have him, that’s all that matters.
“yes,” you breathe, lifting your eyes to finally meet his and you see all the love in his eyes threatening to spill over.
he reaches up to brush a piece of your hair out of your face. “i’m just glad i finally have you back,” he says with a soft smile as he watches you. “we’ll go slow, we’ll wait— whatever you want. whatever it takes not to lose you again.”
you bury your face in his chest with a whine. you’re hiding again, but even the uncomfortable scratchiness of his dress shirt can’t pull you away from him.
“besides, i don’t want our first time together to be in my stupid little office,” he chuckles and holds you tighter against him, pressing a kiss to the top of your head that makes your heart flutter. “you deserve better than that.”
you stay there for a long moment, hugging him like it's the last time you'll ever see him. but this time you know it won't be the last. it's the first, the first of hopefully many, many more.
when you feel like you've been standing there too long, you clear your throat and lean your head back to look at him. "so, um… now what?"
he pauses, those pretty lips turned up in a smile. "do you have plans for lunch?"
"no, i just had that study group you pulled me from. i'm free for the rest of the day."
his smile widens. "perfect. you still like grilled cheese, or did you grow out of that, too?"
you laugh, putting your chin on his shoulder as you hug him. "i haven't changed that much, shua."
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after taking a while to collect yourselves (waiting for his erection to go back down so you can leave together without looking suspicious), you walk out of joshua’s office the happiest you've felt in years.
he'd wanted to hold your hand, too, but you were still anxious about anyone seeing you together that you'd refused him until you made it to his car. you were probably just being paranoid and no one would care about two responsible adults talking to each other, but all the time you'd spent hiding from your peers had put you on edge.
so, it wasn't until you were safely out of the church parking lot and in the driveway of his apartment complex that you let him touch you, kissing you over the cupholders with his hands gently holding your neck.
it took everything in you not to climb over the center console and sit on his lap in the driver's seat and kiss him as hard and as deeply as you really wanted, but you knew once you started you wouldn't be able to stop. and besides, he still didn't have any condoms. it didn't bother you either way, since you'd been taking birth control since high school to help with your periods, but if it was what he wanted you'd be more than fine with it.
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you don't know what you'd been expecting the inside his apartment to look like; probably some tacky cross-stitch bible verses or a wooden cross hanging on the wall, but his apartment just looked like… a normal apartment. a very clean apartment, actually, though you weren't surprised. he'd always been a neat, organized kid, and it looked like that was one thing he hadn't grow out of.
you watch as he puts his keys on a hook by the door, following him into the kitchen and sitting at one of the chairs.
he grins at you as he opens his refrigerator, pulling out the ingredients for your lunch before taking out a pan.
"shua…" you interrupt him, standing up and walking towards him slowly. "you're not— really thinking about grilled cheese sandwiches right now, are you?"
he hums, eyes following your every movement as the pan sits cold and abandoned on the stove. "there are… other things on my mind, yeah."
"so why are you still trying to make grilled cheese sandwiches?"
by now you're close enough to stand toe to toe with him, and you're sure he can feel the heat radiating off your body when he wraps his hands around your waist, backing you against the kitchen counter. "because i wanna make you lunch. maybe i just wanna spoil my girl a little bit."
a shiver runs down your spine at the new name he calls you. never in a million years did you think this is where you'd end up.
"i think you have all the time in the world to spoil me later, joshua," you mumble, leaning in closer and closer until your lips touch.
in a flash he's hoisting you up and sitting you on the counter. his mouth never leaves yours as you slide your legs around his hips to drag him closer, kisses growing deeper and more desperate now that you can finally be alone together.
his hands slide down your body, tugging at the hem of your shirt and only breaking apart for a second to slide it over your head before his lips are crashing against yours again. 
your hands find his hips, experimentally tugging on his belt to see his reaction. immediately he pulls away from you, 
cheeks flushed and breathing heavily. "sweetheart, i still don't have any condoms. if you really want to now, then we gotta run to the store first."
“i’m on the pill,” you burst out, hoping he gets the message. maybe he has some other reason for wanting to, but you're too impatient to wait for who knows how long it'll take to go to the store, and you don't think you'll be able to keep your hands off him for that long. you don't think you'll be able to keep your hands off of him for even a few seconds.
his face goes blank as he processes your words, struggling to understand if you’re saying what he thinks you’re saying. “you’d let me…?”
you grab onto his arms, a desperate attempt to pull him closer, to feel more of him. “raw, yes, joshua. just—please, i need you,” you beg him, cunt throbbing with neglect as you wait for him to answer. 
he buries his face in your shoulder with a groan, gripping his hands underneath your thighs and sliding you off the counter.
with a shriek you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, holding on tightly as he starts to walk out of the kitchen carrying you. "joshua! what the hell are you doing?"
his face is still pressed against your shoulder, and you can feel his lips tickling your bare skin as he speaks. "i'll fuck you on my kitchen counter any day of the week, baby, but i want to have you for the first time in my bed, please?"
his voice is low and whiny, just as desperate for you as you are for him and it makes you moan with excitement. 
he finds his way into his room, stumbling a little when he accidentally runs you into the wall instead of through the doorway, but you just giggle and kiss him harder until he finally drops you on his bed, immediately unbuttoning his shirt.
you run your hands along his chest as he leans over you, feeling the toned muscle that feels almost wrong to be seeing. his physical changes are much more obvious to you now that he's like this, and you know the image will fuel your fantasies for weeks.
your hands move to his belt again and this time he allows it, letting you unbuckle it and toss it away before slowly lowering the zipper. he's already hard again, and your heart races when you put a little bit of pressure on the seam and he lets out a guttural groan in response.
his arms flex as he reaches down to slide your skirt off, and you help him and kick the fabric away, leaving both of you in nothing but your underwear.
joshua pauses, letting his gaze wander your body as you look away shyly. he hums and you look back at him in confusion. "don't hide from me, sweetheart, please," he says, but it comes out more like a whine; not like he's asking, but like he's begging. it's honestly the hottest thing you've ever heard, and even with your nerves he makes it hard to resist.
"dreamt about this for fucking years. years," he moans as he leans over to kiss your chest, reaching behind your body to undo your bra and let it fall away. you whimper when he brings his hands up to cup your breasts, wrapping his mouth around one of your nipples as he starts to slowly grind against your clothed pussy. you can already feel yourself soaking through your panties, and you're sure he can feel it, too.
his hands are like nothing you've ever felt, and you roll your head back against his pillows, arching into him as he massages your breasts with his large hands. you'd noticed them before, but you hadn't realized just how big they were until they were on top of you and made your body seem almost tiny beneath his massive palms.
"shua…" you breathe, tentative hands reaching up to touch his shoulders.
he looks up at you, mouth covered in spit. "yes, angel?"
you whimper at the nickname. no angel you'd ever learned about in sunday school had acted like you are right now, begging a man to fuck you. and on top of that it was before marriage, too; surely if there was a god they would be extremely disappointed in you. but right now you didn't care if the entire universe was disappointed in you, as long as joshua hong wasn't.
it takes you a few more seconds to build up your courage, but finally you open your mouth and tell him, "joshua, please— fuck me."
he slides forward to kiss you again, before sitting back and repositioning himself between your legs. "anything you want, sweetheart."
he lines his cock up at your entrance, and just before you think he's about to push into you, he looks up at you instead. 
"i love you, so much," he says, and you have to fight the urge to hide your face as you grin and giggle like a fucking schoolgirl; like the past version of you would have, if she'd had any sense and figured everything out sooner.
and, like always, he asks, "ready?", and you nod, and it's better than you could've ever imagined.
the whines that leave his mouth drive you close to the edge already as he begins to thrust into you, slowly, gently, just a little bit at a time but it still leaves you gasping from his size.
he keeps moving at a snail's pace until you reach up, fumbling to grab at his bicep as tears nearly spill out of your eyes and beg him, "joshua, more, please."
he leans over you, pressing his body flat against yours as he starts to rock his hips faster, and you cry out from so much pleasure and so much emotion hitting all at once.
"wanted you so fucking bad, for so long, and now you're finally here," he whispers, his thrusts never faltering despite how close in proximity he is to your face.
you whine as your hands claw at his back, digging in as you struggle to hold on and he curses again, pushing into you harder.
"you said i was better than you imagined," he groans, one hand coming up to caress your cheek. "but you're even better than i imagined. you're a fucking angel, so fucking beautiful."
you gasp his name, falling into your orgasm from his words alone as you clench impossibly tight around him. you always thought of him as the nice kid, the rule follower, but here he is, fucking you through the hardest orgasm of your life and saying such filthy things in between praises and compliments.
"jo-oshua, please!" is all you can manage, still struggling to recover before he crests into his own high with a whimper. his eyes scrunch up as he releases inside you, eyelashes fluttering and sweat dripping down his temples, and you think it's the most beautiful sight you've ever seen. 
a constant stream of curses fall from his lips and you swallow them with yours, kissing him as if you're afraid he might disappear into thin air if you don't hold onto him tight enough.
his breaths are shallow when his mouth falls away from you, resting his forehead on your shoulder with a long exhale.
"god…" he starts, then stops and laughs, and you have to tug on his hair to make him face you again.
"what are you laughing at?" you say, cheeks growing hot when he looks at you with droopy, hooded eyes and a lopsided smile.
"nothing," he laughs. "just god. what a funny word."
"and why is that, baby?" you say as you try to hold back a smile, testing out the nickname.
he grins. "because it gave me you. or maybe it didn't. who knows?"
you finally laugh along with him, remembering what he'd said to you on the phone that feels like years ago. "don’t you know it’s a sin to take the lord’s name in vain, sweetheart?”
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the church is humming with activity as you make your way to the front pew, carrying two donuts in your hand. people greet you as they mingle about the hall, talking and laughing. some wave excitedly when they see you, others simply smile and offer their hand for you to shake with a friendly “good morning and god bless!”
being a pastor’s wife isn’t something you ever imagined yourself doing, but then again, a lot of things in your life you never imagined doing. you never imagined seeing joshua again, and you never imagined marrying him, either. you certainly didn’t imagine taking over your father-in-law’s church when he retired and decided it was time for joshua to take his place as head of the church. you always knew he would someday, whether he wanted to or not, but you’d be happy to spend the rest of your life by his side no matter where he was or what job he had.
you’d been almost nervous when you decided it was finally time to tell your parents you had been seeing each other, but to your surprise they had been overjoyed at the news. both his family and yours were “just so glad when it happened to be you!”, saying things like “we’d always known it would happen, back since you were children!”, and “so when are we going to get some beautiful little grandchildren to take to sunday school!”
it had been five long and happy years since that very first phone call, and every minute you spend with joshua has been the best of your life.
you walk up the steps to the stage where your husband is waiting, flipping through his notes for the morning’s sermon. you hand him his donut with a grin, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. he smirks at you, imperceptible to everyone else but you can tell what it truly means.
everybody in the congregation always talks you’re the perfect example of a happy, god-loving couple. such nice looking people, so well put together. but behind closed doors, they’d be horrified by the things you say and do together. wolf in sheep’s clothing, as is your husband’s favorite parable to preach.
it’s not the life you imagined, but it’s perfect to you and him.
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kyrjnie · 8 months
Text
✿ ✿ 〞arguements with skz
✰ pairings :  ot8!skz x gn!reader
✰ genre : angst
✰ warnings :  heavy angst, mentions of toxic behavior in some, misunderstandings, failing to communicate
✰ word count :   2.7k + words
part 2
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౨₊ৎ chan
"why are you so angry about all this?"
“you’re seriously asking me that?” his brows raised in disbelief as he spoke.
this what you two had been dealing with lately. unnecessary fights and constant bickering over anything. even today, a weekend, which chan called his ‘golden day’ , you two were yelling across the room.
“yes i am. and i’ll keep asking till you stop acting petty,” you looked him dead in the eye now. your faces were edging closer and closer to his, a defiant glare sparkling in your eyes. chan glared back, but he looked away as quickly, not being able to look at you when you two were fighting. he was used to the warm and admiring gazes, but not these sharp and angry stares. it made his stomach churn with the thought, what if you both got tired of fighting one day?
“if you’re not going to open your mouth no one will be sleeping tonight,” your voice snaps him back to reality, he silently stares at the floor with his head hung low.
“you know i hate him, don't you? i’ve told this story to you like a thousand times already and yet you still talked to him! do you think that’s fair?” he raised his voice and immediately regretted it. but there was no taking it back now. words can only be taken back in laptops or phones, not in real life.
“i just talked to him for barely even two minutes, chan! you’re being ridiculous at this point. do you think this is fair?” you cock your eyebrow at him, not hesitating to raise your voice as well since he walked down that path first.
“it doesn’t matter how long you talked, the point is you talked even after knowing our rough past. it’s almost like you don’t care about me or my feelings anymore! you’ve changed. you’ve become. . . selfish,” ouch. that had to hurt. and chan noticed the way your eyes instantly dulled. he licked his lower lip anxiously and watched as your frown deepened.
there were no further words uttered from your side which made him realise just how far he went, “babe. . . i- sorry,” the words were stuck in his throat and he could practically feel the tears building in his eyes as you took a shaky breath. he took a step closer and raised his hand to touch your face, but you avoided that and walked away.
maybe it was selfish indeed. or maybe not, he wished to not answer that as he sat on the couch and dragged a hand across his face filled with guilt. and as he stared at the hallway where you walked out, he could only hope to turn back the time and undo his mistake. but for now, he needed to wait. or fight for you.
౨₊ৎ minho
minho let out a frustrated groan when he felt the couch dip beside him. he threw a mere glance, before opening his laptop and typing something. it was unusual of him to act this frustrated and even when you tried to talk to him he glared in your way.
“i understand you’re having a bad day but it doesn’t mean that you can act however you want,” you muttered and scooted away from him before crossing your arms over your chest.
“then simply don’t understand,” he muttered nonchalantly and leaned closer to the laptop screen as he typed. this infuriated you even more.
“can you at least pretend to care? i’m not a statue sitting beside you!” his gaze shifted to you and he pressed his lips into a straight line.
“of course i will! should i even leave my job and tell my boss that my partner wanted to argue with me while i work?” sarcasm dropped all over his tone and it made you nauseous. you couldn’t believe your ears thay minho, lee minho was acting this way. he rolled his eyes and muttered a ‘thought so’ , upon seeing you go quiet and diverted his gaze back to the laptop in front of him.
“why do you have to make everything so difficult? why can’t you just talk like normal people do?” your gaze hardened and he could feel it. rolling his eyes, he switched his gaze back to you and saw you, a new you. your jaw was clenched harshly it was almost as if you were a ticking time bomb, just finding the right time and you could explode.
but minho was no less. the last thing he wanted was to submit his work after his deadline. and time was ticking as always. it doesn’t wait for him.
“the world doesn’t revolve around you! you need to know that. i have submissions to make and i can’t afford to lose my job when i’m this close to getting promoted,” with a final look he picked up his laptop and marched into your shared room. you poked your inner cheek with a tongue and wiped a lone tear that dripped on your cheek. this was going to be one hell of a night. and what hurt you even more is that he didn't even try.
౨₊ৎ changbin
changbin just unlocked the door to your shared apartment and quietly took off his shoes before slipping in the flip-flops. his heart dropped out it’s chest when he saw the date and time. it was two minutes past three. and he wasn’t surprised when the lights flicked on and there you stood, with an exhausted expression and wearing formals.
“shit. . . babe i’m so sorry-“
“you’re sorry?” your scoff definitely took him back. he stared at you nervously and felt his palms get clammy.
“if you’re sorry then you wouldn’t have forgotten our second anniversary! if you’re sorry then you wouldn’t have forgotten our booking! and if you’re really sorry then you would’ve at least called!” you yelled loudly and he could feel himself grow annoyed even though he was at fault.
“babe, i’ve had a tiring day and a bad headache. could you please not shout?” his soft tone took you by surprise but there was disappointment all over your face as he simply began to walk away.
“that’s it then? you’re just walking away like that? like a coward running away from his problems?” your throat felt dry when his head turned and his eyes met yours. his brows were furrowed in anger and he took a step towards you.
“me? a coward? if working my ass off means i’m a coward then maybe i am one. but i’m not running away from my problems. i’m simply solving them at the right times,” he muttered and gave you a tight smile.
“right time, huh? then why can’t you appear at the right times during our dates?” you replied, weakly. you were tired too. tired of his excuses, his empty promises, his apologies. they felt like nothing anymore. he had let you down too many times.
he opened his mouth to say something but closed it back again realising it could worsen the situation. with a soft sigh, he pressed his lips to your head and muttered a sorry before walking away.
maybe, the right time required you both to sit down and talk calmly.
hyunjin
“baby,” you hummed in response, making him continue, “i have a tour coming up so i’ll be gone for two months.”
the words slipped his mouth so easily as if he almost didn’t care. he came back home a week ago. out of which, he spent more than half of his time occupied at the company.
“you just came back!” the exasperation was visible in your tone and hyunjin bit his lip, feeling guilty. he cupped your face and said, “i’ll call you everyday, i promise.”
with a glare you shrugged his hands off and sat straighter to get your point clear, “if i wanted a boyfriend who can only call me why didn’t i just go for long distance?”
hyunjin’s expression changed. he ran a hand through his hair harshly, “i thought you knew what you were getting to when you started dating me.”
“yes i did! i still do. but that doesn’t change the fact that you have the upper hand in your life. which means you should be able to make some time for me?” it felt pathetic, to beg for his time. to sit there at home waiting for him. always. like the desperate being you were. and you began to even pity yourself.
“how long do i have to wait for you hyun? just how long?” and as the tears finally slipped through, hyunjin pulled you in a tight hug. he let you hit him. he let you curse him. and in the end he didn’t let you walk and slip away. but maybe, trying harder would be better. the thing that stung the most was time. time that he didn't have for you. time that he promised he would give, but never did. maybe it was time to take some right decisions for both of you.
౨₊ৎ han
you had been trying to get your boyfriend to talk to you for about 15 minutes now. it was a chore. it was exhausting. but you knew something was wrong and you weren't going to let him suffer alone.
“what’s your problem?” he snapped. annoyance written bold on his forehead as he stared at you, waiting for an answer.
“you’re too unusually quiet today,” you muttered under your breath but he managed to hear it.
it was one of those days where the two of you didn’t hold back.
“oh so now you decide whether i talk or not?” you sighed noticing him still look annoyed.
“don’t put words in my mouth jisung,” your eyes warned him, and he snapped himself out of it before covering his face with his hands.
“can you just go away for now?” he whispered and looked at you. he looked so . . . tired.
“is that a request or a warning?” your joke had no smiles, neither out of you nor him. he expectantly looked at you making you bitterly nod to yourself.
“always has to be me,” and even though it reached his ears he gave no expression, seemingly feel his head throb with thinking too much. he slammed his hands on the desk it made him feel better, maybe not much. but it did not fill the gap in his chest. and it hurt him to reach this point.
౨₊ৎ felix
“lix, i don’t think i can do this anymore,” you muttered and looked away knowing that one look at his face would have you running back in his arms. you had become that weak for him. that weak that you couldn’t resist him or his lies.
“what do you mean baby?” he looked so confused that you almost felt guilty, but then you remembered that he was just being innocent. as if he didn’t lie to you a hundred times. as if he didn’t cause you pain and misery almost everyday.
“i’m tired of you, lix. i’m also tired of us. how long are you going to make me suffer?” your tone caught him by surprise. he stared at you baffled, trying to find words to make you stop speaking like that anymore but he chose to remain quiet when he saw that look of sadness take up on your expression.
“i know we fight a lot babe but i swear i love you,” he held your hands in his hands and pressed a tender kiss while looking at you.
there it was. those words he uttered again, just like always. he would hurt you and then later on he would sweet talk you. and you had grown extremely tired of it.
shrugging his hands off you took a step back, “that’s it felix! if you try to manipulate me once more i’m breaking up with you!”
his brows furrowed in confusion. he didn’t know what you were playing at, but he wasn’t going to back off after being told those words.
“manipulate? i’m simply trying to remain calm! but looks like all my efforts are going in vain,” hurt spread all across his face as he said it. maybe you overthinking it, or maybe not. but one thing was clear, you both hurt each other in ways you didn’t know.
“you always do this! make promises you can’t keep and then talk me out of it,” and even though you stood firm with your decision, you weren’t a fool to not notice the way his shoulders slumped down, and his mouth turn downwards forming a frown.
“what more do i have to do to make you believe that i a sincere about this, about us?” he let out an exasperated sigh after pointing between the two of you.
“just be honest and love me,” and as you uttered those words, your eyes met his and you could see the way it reflected deep sorrow and perhaps guilt? you couldn’t name it.
with a dejected nod, he grabbed his wallet, bag and phone before rushing out of the house.
“i’ll be staying over at chan’s,” he muttered giving you one final look, as if telling you to stop him. but you didn’t, you just nodded and looked away.
he felt all his hopes shatter down upon that one thing, all the things he dreamt of for future could be seen crumbling down and all he could do was let out a shaky breath with his hand trembling all the while as he drove away.
౨₊ৎ seungmin
“where were you?” he practically shouted, startling you.
“i told you i was out with some friends,” you replied, trying to be the calm one.
“some friends? or a special friend?” his tone felt poisonous. it felt unfamiliar on his tongue to speak in this way but he tried not to look too fazed.
“what is that supposed to mean?” you replied pointedly, totally forgetting about remaining calm and stared at him.
“you know exactly what i mean,” his voice lowered down for a second and so did the anger in his gaze, but he held contact wanting you to know it was serious.
“i’ve called you like a million times and i was worried sick because you didn’t tell me where you went!”
“i can take care of myself, seungmin.”
“sure you can, but i don’t trust the other men,” he sighed and his eyes finally softened.
“good night,” he mumbled and walked away, leaving you standing all alone. things were getting better for worse? or for better?
౨₊ৎ jeongin
“stop shouting,’’ he said. It almost made you scoff when he was the one who started it.
“babe it wasn’t funny you know that?’’ you muttered, dejected but he just looked away not having any words to speak.
“i understand they are your friends but you can’t just go and tell them about my problems like that!’’ jeongin let out a deep sigh and looked at you.
“i thought maybe they could help in a way. they’re like my family.’’
“still. you could’ve at least asked me before telling them, you’re basically feeding off every bit of my secrets and i’m even scared to tell you anything now,’’ now that sounded ridiculous to him. you could trust him, and he wanted you to know that.
“you’re clearly overreacting. i just told them why you were feeling off,’’ he ran a hand through his hair growing frustrated that you both didn’t understand each other.
“you gave them the entire speech jeongin. don’t you dare lie to my face!’’ that was the high point. the two of you looked at each other with an abnormally furious gaze. and it made you realise just how long would it take for this to end?
“i’m not lying! Why don’t you understand me? i was just trying to make you feel better!’’
“if you wanted to make me feel better then you could’ve talked to me! and not them!’’
a minute of silence was all that was heard before you took your cue to speak, “am i dating you or am i dating them?’’ the tears came as quickly as they fell. you had grabbed your coat and bag, heading for the door. you didn't think anything else could hurt you. but you were wrong.
what hurt the most was that he didn't stop you.
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misojunnie · 7 months
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CHERRY ─ psh. ❀
a lollipop a day keeps park sunghoon away…
# genre: outcast!sunghoon x class prez!fem!reader, enemies to lover, slow burn, high school au, 90’s au
# warnings: insults, minor violence, substances/partying, cursing, lil makeout sesh, minor bullying, portrays some idols in a bad light; inaccurate and not how I view them!
# featuring: sunghoon & enha! + txt + aespa
# playlist: not for sale by enhypen, still into you by paramore, chaser by woodz, high school sweethearts by melanie martinez
# a/n: hi guys!!! it’s insane that the cherry teaser got so many likes omg. ty guys so much!! plz enjoy <3 (dont let this flop)
# word count: 13.1k
# taglist: @alicesolengg @ningngyu @ramenoil @simjakeissohot @skzenhalove @parkhonnie @denleave1088 @voidbeomgyu @ilymarkchan @everyoneluvscheol @haerinpham @fakeuwus @chesh1re-cat @advesperamz @papiibuprofen @loveliii @cutiejseong @luvyouchuu @hancafe @aeminju @chaerybae @b1ndignity @edilysoob @river-06 @fariylixie0915 @amortenha @hoonpalettes @asyleums @moonmoongi @jyndre @parksunghoonsgf @whippedforbeomgyu @dianzed @soobliss-blog @manooffline @iscocohere @saythenameseventeen178 @woniewonn @luv4cheol @tinylittlebuggi @h-hazwie @ddazed-lhs @enhacolor @hiqhkey @webqrl @ilovewonyo @aesunghoon @hanienie @jrjr289
it isn’t a well disguised fact that park sunghoon doesn’t like you–no, hate would be a better word. park sunghoon hates you, and he makes it clear to everyone who knows him. but when you leave him a different flavored lollipop every day, it gets a little harder to loathe you.
[more under the cut!]
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 - chapter i.
Park Sunghoon finds solace in the fact that he annoys you. 
He isn’t sure he truly does, as you’re quite adept at keeping your face blank when something pisses you off. But for a moment, that bright, customer-service smile slips, and the left corner of your lip twitches when he sneers at you from across the room. That’s how he likes it. He likes that he has an effect on you, negative or otherwise, although it was always the former.
“You need to let it go.” Jake sighed as he watched Sunghoon’s eyes follow you across the room when you stand to pass out the second semester chemistry syllabus. “I don’t even understand why you don’t like her."
“How could you not?” he phrased his question like a statement.
“Well, first of all, she’s my math tutor.” Jake says, smacking the top of his best friend’s head with a rolled up spiral notebook, crumpling his notes. “So I have to get along with her. And second of all, she makes it pretty easy considering she’s such a catch.” Sunghoon groaned in annoyance, a petulant frown on his pretty face.
“God, you’re so brainless.” Sunghoon whined. “You’re just another one of the idiots completely infatuated with her.” 
Well, why wouldn’t he be? You’re the president of the school council, head of the party planning committee, photographer of the yearbook club, and the school newspaper’s best writer. It’s an intricate balancing act, and a wonder that you could keep it up on the daily.
“I’m not infatuated.” Jake said with an indignant hiss. “I just don’t hold stupid grudges– shit, she’s coming.” The Aussie cleared his throat and painted an enthusiastic and eager smile onto his face as you approached the boy’s shared table.
“Good morning.” you chirped, and Jake grinned in response. “Here’s the syllabus.” You passed a double sided sheet of paper to each of them, gently setting it down on the desk. It didn’t escape Sunghoon’s attention that his was wrapped up in a roll, a piece of tape closing the document into a cylinder. You sent him a soft smile, looking at him through your lashes, before backing away from the table and moving onto the next pair of students who were waiting to receive their assignment. Sunghoon rolled his eyes, hesitantly peeling off the strip of adhesive and unrolling the paper to reveal the object inside, Jake peering curiously over his shoulder in an attempt to see.
“God, she’s still at it.” Sunghoon groaned, reaching down to pick up a small lollipop, a vivid yellow and wrapped in a holographic piece of cellophane with a little red ribbon tying it closed. “I thought she might’ve stopped.”
“Dude, you’re so lucky.” Jake breathed enviously, and Sunghoon looked at him with distaste. “You know how many guys in this school would kill to get a lollipop from her?” Sunghoon ignored his best friend's implorations, unwrapping the treat and shoving it into his mouth. 
Lemon. He hated lemon. 
When he looked back to the front of the classroom, you were setting the remaining stack of papers on the teacher’s desk, peeking at Sunghoon’s reaction. You seemed somewhat pleased to see the boy sucking on the sweet you had left him, and you sent a bright smile in his direction. His eyes were drawn to your shirt, which was adorned with what he thought was a very tacky depiction of a dove and some hearts, and he inwardly grimaced. Apparently, it wasn’t too inward judging by the look on your face. 
He smirked, lifting up his hand and subtly sending you a different kind of bird with his middle finger. Your smile dropped entirely, and you rubbed your lips together in annoyance, retreating to your desk with a mix of frustration and despondence. That made him very satisfied.
“Would it kill you to be nice for once?” Jake asked, a skeptical look on his face as he watched the entire encounter go down. Sunghoon shrugged, setting his hand down on his desk and strumming his slender fingers on the wooden surface.
“Probably.”
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
Today was yet another failed attempt at making Park Sunghoon like you. 
You had to admit, you weren’t entirely pleased with your lollipop arrangement, and by that, you meant that you hated it. Treating Sunghoon like a human being with real emotions was so hard when he was such a piece of shit. You let out an exhausted sigh, hopping onto the counter of the candy shop. Your best friend laughed at your theatrics, wiping his hand with a white rag and tossing you a packet of red licorice.
“What’s the problem?” Jungwon asked inquisitively as though he didn’t already know the answer. “Sunghoon again?” His tone was filled with pity, and you hated it. You rolled onto your stomach, ripping open the packaging and tucking one of the red ropes into your mouth with a heavy sigh, blinking twice hard, before frowning.
“He’s not budging.”
“That’s a shame. I’m almost out of lollipop flavors.” Jungwon tutted with disappointment, reaching into his pocket and removing his hand with a treat, barely able to hold back the anticipating grin on his face. He tossed it to you. “Or am I?”
“You’re a lifesaver.” you sighed, pocketing it. “I’m not sure how you keep coming up with more.” Your best friend simply shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets.
“Chef’s secret,” he smiled.
Jungwon had adored candy since you met him, but the only thing he adored more than eating candy was making candy. This came in handy during basically every holiday or romance related occasion. A handmade bouquet of chocolate covered strawberries, a box filled to the brim with toffee, or a lollipop. He liked lollipops the most. “Maybe you should stop with the lollipops. I’m down to my last vial 0f strawberry flavoring and our restock isn’t until next Monday.” he scrunched his nose up at the thought.
“What if he gets pissed off once I stop giving him them, and then he gets even meaner?” you wondered aloud. “What would I do then?”
“Um, report him to the principal?” Jungwon suggested, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and you shot up into a sitting position.
“Absolutely not.” you hissed. “I have to beat him.” You raised your fist to the air, seething with vengeance. “I will make that pretty bastard like me, goddamn it.” This was it. Jungwon was convinced that you had finally gone ‘round the bend. A ringing sound resounded through the shop as someone pushed through the front door with a grin.
“Did someone say pretty bastard?” he said, arms held out playfully as he turned his nose up to the ceiling. You only pouted in response. “Awww, baby what’s wrong?” he asked, circling his hands around your waist and pressing a kiss to your forehead while Jungwon stuck out his tongue.
“Oh, it’s nothing.” you dismissed the topic with a wave of your hand and a sigh. You knew very well that if Heeseung got word of the way Sunghoon was treating you, you’d have a dead body on your hands. “How was practice?”
“Pretty good. Coach says I’m doing well. Could get a scholarship.” He cuddled up to you, until something hard and spherical hit him in the face, and he gripped his nose with a groan, bending down to pick up the fallen object.
“No cuddling in the store.” Jungwon said, a hand on the door as he came back to the counter, a thin white stick protruding from his mouth. “It’ll scare the customers.”
“Likely.” Heeseung scoffed, yet he pulled the wrapper off the lollipop and shoved it in his mouth, swirling the sphere on his tongue. “You wanna go see that new movie, Ten Things I Hate About You? It’s playin’ tonight and Beomgyu said it’s good.” You laughed, pulling the lollipop out of his mouth with a wet ‘pop’ sound, and tucking it between your own lips. Jungwon gagged on his lunch.
“I don’t trust any movie that Beomgyu says is good.”
“Ah, c’mon babe. It’ll be fun.” he said, returning his hands to your waist as you smiled. He had a way of making you smile even when you were at your lowest.
“Alright.” you caved, and he pumped his fist, planting a kiss on your cheek.
“Glad you said yes, because I already bought tickets.” You chastised him, but he only laughed and grabbed your waist, lifting you off the counter like a sack of potatoes while you shrieked. “Thanks for the sucker, Won!”
“Yeah, yeah. Have fun!” he yelled after the two of you until you were out of sight, hopping into his old Dodge Viper with lovesick, giddy smiles on your faces. Then the boy sighed, rolling his eyes. “Pricks.”
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
“Red Vines.”
“Gotta be Charleston Chews.”
“Ew, no fucking way. Charleston Chews are just s'mores without the best part.” you scoffed, finger wagging in your boyfriend’s face as the exasperated teenage cashier watched you argue about your candy choices for the movie you were about to watch.
“I’ll let that go, because I love you.” he warned. “But Charleston Chews are the best candy.” Despite his protest, he reached for the Red Vines on the shelf and dropped them next to the cash register as he removed his wallet from his pocket.
“Thanks, baby.” you kissed him on the cheek, and he sent you a grin for the reward. “But they definitely taste like shit.” you said cheekily, and he smacked you lightly on the top of the head, before grabbing your Red Vines and pulling you away.
“I’ll get you back for that.” He teased, and you stuck your tongue out. “Oh shit, I left my Coke at the register.” You laughed at his blatant forgetfulness as he smacked himself in the forehead. “Go, hurry. I’ll wait here.” He darted out the exit, excusing himself and apologizing as he ran past a pair entering the theater, almost knocking their popcorn out of their hands. “Where’s he off to in a rush?” one of them asked incredulously, the other mumbling incoherent responses as they seated themselves. Great, the teenage cynics who apparently had a grudge against your boyfriend were sitting right next to you.
“Heeseung’s really been busy lately.” one said, and your ears perked up at their use of his name. “With scholarships, and all that. Must be hella tired.” The voice sounded oddly familiar, but you couldn’t exactly place who it belonged to.
“Yeah, as if.” another scoffed. “He’s probably busy making out with his fuckface girlfriend.” Your eye twitched.
“C’mon, don’t be mean. What’s she ever done to you?’ another said.
“She’s awful. You’re so gullible.” the same disparaging voice said, and you huffed. You recognized that drawl, you had heard it somewhere but you weren’t sure where. “Heeseung’s an idiot. The both of them can go to hell.” Enough was enough. You stood, reaching over to the cynical boy sitting directly next to you and grabbed the front of his shirt, and even though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel his shock.
“You got something to say about me and my boyfriend?” you hissed.
“Have you had your break today? We all need to get away, there’s one place that’s on your way,” the jolly actors sang as the screen suddenly lit up with an advertisement, the lights turning on and revealing the boy before you. 
“Y/n?” Sunghoon asked incredulously, and you grit your teeth. He got a reaction out of you. You had completely played yourself.
Despite your instant regret, you continued to grip on his shirt. “Park Sunghoon.”
“What are you doing here?” he hissed under his breath, and your eyes darted to Jake, sitting beside him. He looked utterly stunned. He had never seen you react to Sunghoon’s tauntings before; even Sunghoon never had the pleasure of seeing you burst out in a properly angry reaction.
“Seeing a movie with my boyfriend.” you muttered. Sunghoon didn’t respond, and you thought this might be the first time you had seen him off guard.
You dropped his shirt, letting him plop back down onto the cushioned seat.
You had seriously messed up. Sunghoon was never supposed to see you angry, more than anyone. You were about to do some damage control when Heeseung strode straight through the swinging doors with a box of Charleston Chews and a plastic cup of Coke so large it looked like it could cause diabetes immediately upon consumption.
Heeseung always had incredibly bad timing.
“Hey baby.” he slid into the seat next to you, pecking a kiss onto your cheek. He coughed on his soda pop when he saw the pair staring at him, seated directly next to you, one boy looking at him like he had just ran over his cat. “Oh, hey guys. Jake,” he said, nodding to the older boy of the two. “How’s varsity tryouts?”
“Going good.” Jake said meekly. The two were acquainted from their time on the rugby team, yet Jake suddenly felt extremely intimidated by the older boy. You said nothing, leaning back in your seat with a perturbed look on your face.
Once you and Heeseung finally struck up a conversation, Jake leaned in and grabbed the front of Sunghoon’s shirt with an extremely stressed expression.
“Are you trying to get us killed?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Sunghoon snapped, not sounding sorry at all. “Christ, you really had to book the seats right next to Jack and Joan Sprat?”
“I didn’t know they’d be sitting there.” Jake said through gritted teeth, and it was easy to see that the poor boy was at his breaking point. “I would just like to get through this movie peacefully.” he rubbed his temples, expecting protest. But to Jake’s surprise, the boy didn’t complain. He was much too busy staring at you. “Sunghoon?”
“Yeah, I got it.” the boy rolled his eyes, turning away. Jake looked at him in a double take, shocked at the boy’s compliancy, but pleasantly surprised. 
Maybe this would be a nice trip to the theater after all.
Of course, nothing could be peaceful when you and Sunghoon were in the same room together. The tension was undeniable, even to your oblivious boyfriend.
Safe to say you only registered about half of the movie.
Not to say that the film wasn’t engrossing. In fact, you were beginning to seriously enjoy it. Sunghoon, however, was enjoying the movie a bit less than you were.
“This is so fucking stupid.” he muttered to Jake as the main characters bickered on screen. “This would never happen in real life.”
“That’s why it’s a movie, dumbass. Now can you shut up? You’re seriously bumming me out.” Jake snapped back, slapping the back of Sunghoon’s head. Sunghoon reached over to retaliate, knocking his cup of Sprite over in the process, spilling the entire contents of the plastic container directly onto your skirt. You squealed, and Heeseung cursed, pulling you up as he dug in his pockets for napkins. You glared at Sunghoon and saw that he looked rather surprised at his own action, and for a moment you doubted if he did it on purpose. But then the look of shock shifted into one of satisfaction, and you chose to not give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Gosh, I’m sorry.” Sunghoon said in a way that told you he wasn’t sorry at all.
“That’s one hell of a mess.” Heeseung kissed his teeth, attempting to use the napkins to clean off your skirt, but the people behind you began to boo at your obstruction of their view. “Alright people, Jesus. We’re moving.” He took your hand and pulled you back down, still attempting to dry you off. While you greatly appreciated the effort, it was doing practically nothing to help.
“It’s okay, Hee.” you said, pushing his hands off with a tight smile. “It’ll dry.” You sighed, reaching for the box of Charleston Chews. You didn’t even like this stupid candy, but you needed something sweet to calm your temper or you were going to kill someone. Your hand exited the box covered in melted chocolate, and you threw your head back in displeasure. But suddenly, an idea struck you.
The sacrifice of your boyfriend's candy was worth it.
You sloppily upturned the box into Sunghoon’s lap, the half-melted chocolate slipping onto his light tan pants as he inhaled sharply, his lip pulled between his teeth. 
“Whoops.” you said with a smile, turning back to the screen.
Sure, you were done being nice to Park Sunghoon. But you still tucked a sucker into his pocket, hoping he would find it on his way home and at least have some kind of consolation for his ruined trousers.
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
Sunghoon collapsed onto his bed, reaching under his bed frame for something beneath. When his hand emerged, it held a dark green spiral notebook, with a pencil held by a strap of elastic. He swirled the lollipop around his mouth, thinking carefully for a few moments before flipping to the next open page on his notebook.
“June 15th, 1999… Strawberry… cheesecake…” He mused under his breath as he jotted it down on the lined paper, biting the inside of his left cheek with furrowed brows. “Maybe just strawberry cream?” he thought to himself, biting the end of his pencil before shaking his head. “Had to be cheesecake.” He surely sounded insane to anyone who was listening from the outside, yet this was a nightly routine for the teen, notebook and pencil in hand as he pondered the flavor of the day.
He had tasted birthday cake, banana split, bubblegum, gingerbread, black licorice, pina colada, pretty much any flavor that even Willy Wonka himself could come up with. He thought he might’ve had every lollipop flavor in the universe, and the pages of his notebook had become worn with your endless supply of sugary treats.
However, he did find it odd that you had never given him cherry before.
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐄 - chapter ii.
There was something you had never told anyone. Not to Heeseung, not even to Jungwon, and you told him just about everything, maybe too much. No, this secret went untold, and you planned to take it with you to your grave.
Park Sunghoon was your first love.
It’s not like he ever loved you back. This was your freshman year of high school, the first time you met the young charmer, who at the time was wide eyed and raven haired, quiet and not very conversational. At the ripe age of 14, he wasn’t fully comfortable in his skin yet, not making many friends and focusing on building his figure skating career rather than on his grades. He was nerdy, he was awkward, and he was always alone in the cafeteria, picking absentmindedly at his food while he daydreamed. 
He was beautiful. You found yourself unable to look away.
Even in your freshman year, rising up the school hierarchy wasn’t difficult. You joined the school council in your first week at Decelis High, easily acquiring the vice president position once election day came around, leading you to take the president position eventually. You started writing in the newspaper club in your second month of high school, your teachers recognizing your potential and promoting you to head editor as well as a journalist, and students immediately began to respect your brave commentary on the school’s weak ethics and poor handling of their students. School was improved when you joined, and the student body found that their day brightened up when you walked down the hall with your signature smile. 
Which is why it was odd that you fell hopelessly head over heels for a quiet boy who interacted with no one and didn’t speak unless spoken to, head perpetually in the clouds. And despite your undeniable popularity, he never paid a lick of attention to you.
It took until your junior year for him to even speak to you. When his head wasn’t somewhere over the rainbow, he was focusing on skating, skipping classes to run to the rink for a quick session with his trainer. And when he wasn’t skating, he was playing soccer. Through the rose tinted lenses of love, you thought he was an excellent player, but supposedly his coach didn’t agree. He was benched for nearly all his games.
You never told him you had feelings for him, but the closest you came was when you showed up to the soccer game he was playing in with a button on your shirt that said “Go Sunghoon!”. You cheered for him the entire time, even if the only reason he was playing was because Kang Taehyun had sprained his ankle. 
Sunghoon scored one goal, but the more experienced player had sucked up the pain and decided to jump into the game last-minute, scoring the winning goal and sending the audience into a frenzy like they had just won the olympics and not an amateur high school soccer game. The team picked up Taehyun on their backs and ran around the field toting him on their shoulders like a trophy, and poor Sunghoon was left on the bench with a frown, wishing that he could’ve been the one on their shoulders being celebrated. You felt so bad for him that you stood up, cupped your hands around your mouth and yelled for his attention, garnering weird stares from those next to you, but you didn’t care. When you yelled his name with a cheer, he looked up into the stands and sent you the most luminous smile you had ever seen, one that could’ve made the sun itself envious of his radiance.
Which is why it confused you when he hated your guts less than a year later.
You never really understood why Sunghoon disliked you. It was a mystery, not only to you, but to everyone who knew about it, even Jungwon, who had seen more ugly and intolerable sides of you than anyone. Nobody really knew why Park Sunghoon despised you, so they just stopped trying to figure out why. 
But not you. You needed to know why he didn’t like you, why the boy who you loved so dearly ended up hating you so much he was spiteful at your mere existence.
Your first memory of Sunghoon was the first day of high school, when he came through the school gates with a big, red sucker in his mouth and an overwhelmed look on his face. So you decided lollipops were the best way to win him over. 
But with every canned stick of orange creamsicle, every discarded cotton candy and crushed lemonade, your feelings slowly left you until the love you once felt for the boy disappeared as he left his tally on your heart, then faded into nothing.
Then you met Heeseung. On January 1st, just as the clock struck midnight at Choi Yeonjun’s New Years party, he asked you to be his girlfriend. And suddenly, you didn’t really care if Sunghoon loved you back or not.
But you never stopped wanting him to like you.
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
You were entirely done with being nice to Park Sunghoon. After nearly a year of being treated like the scum on the bottom of his shoes, you weren’t afraid of him anymore, you weren’t afraid of showing him how truly done you were. But Jungwon still had buckets full of lollipops left for you, so you supposed the lollipop charade could go on for a bit longer.
You still didn’t like him though. That’s what you told yourself.
“She’s acting differently.” Sunghoon scrunched his eyes into scrutinizing crescents as he watched you stride down the hallway nonchalantly. Just a moment previously, you had met his eyes while you walked, textbook clutched to your chest, and rather than sending him a joyous smile or a wave, you ignored him as though he wasn’t even there, which shocked him thoroughly. 
Plus, it was the fourth period and you hadn’t even given him a lollipop yet.
“You’re just salty that she poured her Charleston Chews on you. You’re imagining it.” Jake scoffed, eyes attached to his book, scanning over every word.
“No, you don’t get it.” Sunghoon huffed exasperatedly, arms crossed as he watched you saunter to Heeseung’s side and allow him to pull you into his embrace. “She’s never ignored me like this before. She doesn’t just… look away.”
“So she doesn’t like you anymore. Big deal.” Jake shrugged, but Sunghoon seemed rather upset by this sudden change of events. “You fumbled the bag, that’s all.” Sunghoon’s eyes shot to his shorter companion as they narrowed.
“What do you mean?”
“C’mon, dude. You had y/n y/l/n, the ultimate sweetheart of Decelis High, practically begging for your attention, and you were nothing but mean to her. I mean, anyone would want to be in your place. Of course she’s sick of you.”
“Yeah but-”
“But nothing.” Jake punched Sunghoon’s arm, putting a soft dent in the fabric of his puffy jacket, and the weaker of the two winced. “You were fucking bogus.”
“Yeah, I get it.” Sunghoon snapped, swatting Jake’s hand away with a scowl. “I was a loser.” When Jake nodded, affirming Sunghoon’s self-diss, he sent him a glare. “Well, what am I supposed to do about it?”
“Nothing, bro. Just move on and stop being such a dick.” Jake shrugged, walking away with his nose still buried in his book, leaving Sunghoon to think. Did he really care if you didn’t like him anymore? Would it be so bad for you to continue to ignore him? 
The answer was yes. Undeniably so, because he despised you, and it only brought him more joy to see you struggle. Sunghoon liked being catered to, and you had just taken away his greatest pleasure. 
The game was on.
“Jake, it’s simple.”
“No, it’s not.” Jake rubbed his forehead frustratedly as you attempted to explain the permutation formula to him for the fortieth time that day. He was supposed to be good at math, at least that’s what Jay said, and Jay was almost always right. However, you realized after a few tutoring sessions that Jake was a bit less attentive in math class as his friend made him out to be. “Why is there an exclamation point?”
“The exclamation point is to demonstrate how you’re supposed to multiply the number by each number following it, consecutively.” Jake looked like you had just told him to grow wings and fly, and you took the paper from his hand with a small giggle. “Jesus, Jake. You look like you got three hours of sleep last night and your dog shit in your cereal.” He let out a chuckle.
“You’ve got half of that statement spot on.”
“I’m going to assume it’s the former.” you said playfully.
“You got it.” he sighed a second time.
“Wanna talk about it?” He huffed, like the mere memory of his stressors were enough to upset him even when they weren’t present.
“It’s nothing…” You knew it wasn’t nothing. “It’s just Sunghoon.”
Bingo.
“He’s so oblivious sometimes.” Jake said exasperatedly. “Although, most times I’m pretty sure he’s being dense on purpose.” You stared at him blankly and he rested his chin on his palm. “He’s so stubborn. I always tell him to just let things go, to move on, but he never listens.” You didn’t need an explanation to understand what he was talking about. “I don’t know. He’s just felt so negative recently. Especially today.”
“What’s so different about today?” you asked, elated that he was frustrated at your indifference, which wasn’t indifference at all judging by how much you cared.
“Nothing, for most of us.” the Aussie shrugged. “I suppose he’s just feeling a bit abandoned.” You raised an eyebrow, and Jake seemed to notice his misstep. “T-that doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
“Sure.” you snorted, pulling the sheet of paper you were supposed to be attentively solving into your lap, flipping through your binder for the notes.
“Are you free on Saturday night?” Your eyebrows practically flew to your hairline.
“Depends on who’s asking, and why.”
“Yeonjun’s throwing a party.” You were very well aware of Choi Yeonjun, a freshman at Hybe University. Even after finally graduating a few months ago, his parties were a must for the top tier of Decelis’ elite students; namely the popular kids. You didn’t often frequent parties, but Heeseung and Yeonjun were quite close friends. You had never missed one of his parties, and you didn’t plan to break that record.
“I wasn’t aware.” you picked up a pencil and began scrawling, eyes on your lap.
“It’s a smaller thing than usual. Just some friends, and friends of friends. Maybe a few friends of friends of friends.” You allowed a smile to pass over your lips, and Jake smiled in success. “So you’ll come?”
“I’ve never missed a Choi party.” you shut your notebook and passed the completed homework back to its owner. “I’ll give you the answers, just for today.”
“You’re the best, y/n.” Jake grinned as you stood, holding your binder to your chest, smiling in response.
“I know. Oh, and Jake?” he tilted his head as you removed a green lollipop from the pocket of your pleated skirt, sliding it across the table until it came to a stop just before his hands. “Give this to Sunghoon.”
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
Park Sunghoon was absolutely fuming.
Typically, when school was over, he’d come home, collapse on his bed, write down the lollipop of the day, and then firmly put you out of his mind. But today, for the first time, he found himself unable to do any of those things. He sat on his bed, staring at his wall silently. He was in a haze. He needed a distraction, asap.
When the doorbell rang, he ran downstairs in record time.
“Hit the brakes.” his little sister snapped as he dashed to the door, pulling it open, excited even to see the mailman. He was surprised to see his best friend on the other side, who gave him a sideways look.
“Your scowl is freaking me out.” Jake said, hands in his pockets as he strolled inside. Sunghoon closed the door behind him.
“Get used to it.” Sunghoon replied petulantly, and the two boys walked back up the stairs to Sunghoon’s room. “What brings you to my part of town?”
“I’ve got news.” Jake said, flopping down onto Sunghoon’s bed with a smug expression on his pretty face. “Oh, but before I forget.” Jake reached into the pocket of his blue jeans, removing a spherical object and tossing it in Sunghoon’s direction. The younger boy caught it, his face brightening subconsciously.
“Finally,” he rolled his eyes, unwrapping the lollipop and tucking it into the side of his mouth, sucking on it thoughtfully.
“As I was saying I-” Sunghoon ignored Jake’s ramblings, ducking under his bed and reaching for the green notebook, rifling through the mess under his bed frame. Typically, he’d be too embarrassed to do this in front of company, but he couldn’t find it within him to care. “Did you hear about Yeonjun’s party this weekend?” Sunghoon ignored him, removing the lollipop from his mouth and shoving it towards Jake.
“Do you think this smells like apple?” he asked, and Jake swatted his hand away.
“Did you hear anything I just said? And I’m not putting my face anywhere near something that’s been in your mouth.” Sunghoon rolled his eyes again, turning his attention back to his notebook as Jake stared at him. “Are you even listening?”
“I’m listening.” Sunghoon waved him off, but Jake could swear he heard him muttering fruits under his breath.
“Yeonjun’s having a party this weekend.” he repeated, and Sunghoon looked at him blankly, finally putting his pen down.
“So what?” he scoffed. “You’ve never wanted to go to one of those parties before. They don’t want people like us there.” Jake narrowed his eyes.
“People like us? They’re fine with me, you’re the one they have a problem with.” Jake said, pressing his pointer finger into Sunghoon’s chest while the latter frowned. “In fact, I happen to have an invitation, considering me and Heeseung are friends.”
“I don’t want to go to any party that Heeseung is going to.” Sunghoon refused childishly, and Jake kissed his teeth.
“I don’t get what your issue with Heeseung is. Hating y/n was bad enough, but Heeseung is especially innocent.” Jake shook his head when his best friend opened his mouth to protest, slapping his hand over his mouth before he got the chance. “I know what you’re gonna say, and I don’t wanna hear it.” Sunghoon remained silent.
The two boys sat quietly for a moment, just looking at each other, both as stubborn as the next. Jake broke the silence, sighing exhaustedly.
“Will you just do this one thing for me? Please?” Sunghoon pursed his lips. On one hand, he hated partying. He wanted nothing to do with it. But on the other hand, Jake Sim was his best friend, and he loved this boy more than he loved himself. And he had been a pretty shitty friend recently.
And so, the boy with iron resolve, and an even stronger temper, nodded his head.
“Fine, but seriously, just this once.” he said, wagging his finger when Jake’s face broke out into an enormous smile as he leapt up from the bed. ���Never again, okay?”
“Pinky promise!” Jake said, running out the door and down the stairs, slamming the front door behind him as Sunghoon shook his head.
What had he gotten himself into?
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐏𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 - chapter iii.
Park Sunghoon had a confession. It was one that he hadn’t told anybody. Not his family, not his friends, not even Jake, who he told nearly everything. No, this was a true secret. One that was bursting at the seams, that he desperately wanted to confess.
You were his first love.
Well, he assumed you were. He had no idea what love was; he was only fourteen at the time. But it felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest when you didn’t meet his gaze, and it felt like he was on cloud nine when he spotted you staring.
Sunghoon wasn’t one to make many friends. He wasn’t a social creature. He couldn’t say that was how he liked it, because he wasn’t necessarily sure that was true. He didn’t know if he liked to be alone, or if that was just how it had always been. But that changed when he met you.
For once, he found himself wanting to be around someone. The minute he laid eyes on you, he fell head over heels. You were everything he wasn’t. He knew he was in love with you when a junior tried shoving Jake into a locker and you punched him in the face. Even Sunghoon didn’t have the courage to stand up for Jake like that.
Sunghoon admired everything about you, but he knew you could never care about him. You were president of the student council, head of the party planning committee, photographer of the yearbook club, and the school newspaper’s best journalist. You tutored, you played multiple instruments. You liked being around people. You were brave and righteous. You were everything he wished he was. Why would you like him? He was just a loser who skipped class to skate and wished he had a little more courage.
But sometimes, he saw a little glimmer of hope for the two of you. When you came to his soccer game and only cheered for him, when you lent him your favorite pencil, when you left a note on his desk saying you liked his diorama the best. Sometimes he even thought that he could be with you if he finally followed his heart. 
The only issue? Lee Heeseung.
Captain of the varsity rugby team, runner up for valedictorian, king bee of the school. He was loved by everyone. He had more friends than he could count, and the same for his admirers. When he wanted something, he got it. Sunghoon supposed you counted for that as well. It was obvious that he had a crush on you. Everyone knew you and Heeseung would date eventually, even Sunghoon.
Sunghoon had never fought for anything in his life, but for once, he was willing to fight for you. Until something happened that changed his perspective of you completely, something that made him despise you so much, he could barely contain it. Nobody knew what changed, but one day, Sunghoon dedicated his life to hating you. 
You had no idea why.
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
Jungwon thought he could find out something about your past with Sunghoon if he sleuthed hard enough, but he was finding it more difficult than imagined.
He had checked the records in the principal's office —with the cover story that he was doing an investigative report— three times over, and he had yielded nothing. He asked nearly everyone he knew for any kind of background information. He even checked with the newspaper department, hoping they had some kind of trashy gossip if nothing else. Most of what he heard was entirely useless, consisting of people trash talking Sunghoon and hyping you up entirely too much. Jungwon thought they’d reconsider their words after witnessing you on a bad day.
He sighed frustratedly, collapsing into the principal’s chair, kicking his feet up onto the desk. Absolutely nothing.
He cocked his head when the door unlatched, slowly creaking open no more than an inch or two. A sneakered foot snuck its way inside, the rest of the intruder following, letting out a yelp when he saw Jungwon sitting skeptically in the center of the room.
“What are you doing here?” Jake said, a hand on his chest as he exhaled rapidly.
“What are you doing here?” Jungwon repeated his question back at him. Jake and Jungwon were mostly ambivalent towards each other, but there was always some distaste. After all, they were the best friends of mortal enemies.
“I…” Jake stared at him blankly. “I’m checking the records.”
“What a coincidence. So am I.” The two boys sized each other up, wondering if they might be there for the same reason.
There was no way.
 “How’d you get in?” Jake said after a beat.
“Front door.” Jungwon replied, and the older boy frowned.
“Yeah, I gathered that. I mean, what did you tell administration to get in here?”
“I told them, ‘I want to check the school records.’” Jake shook his head, reaching for the desk containing the files of all the information on every student.
“Are you kidding me? Administration would rather die than let me in here.” Jake sorted through the files. He paused, frowned, then thumbed back and forth for a moment before straightening up and crossing his arms. His eyes widened when he saw the missing file he sought splayed out on the desk, just underneath Jungwon's shoes. “Why were you looking at Sunghoon’s personal file?” Jake said with an accusatory tone, and Jungwon paled, snatching it off the desk and tucking it away into his jacket.
“You’re imagining things.” he said quickly, and Jake rolled his eyes, turning back to the file cabinet. He removed your file, looking at Jungwon pointedly.
“Are you here for the same reason I am?” he asked. Neither of them wanted to admit it, but they were both certain they had the same goal.
Jungwon nodded slowly. “I think so, yeah.”
“You want to find out what happened with Sunghoon and y/n, don’t you?” Jake asked, and Jungwon averted his eyes sheepishly. There was a moment of silence before the two boys broke into laughter. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Jungwon smiled, crossing his arms. “Let’s work together.”
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
Sunghoon was having a horrible day.
Most of Sunghoon’s days were below average, simply because he didn’t often feel like having fun. But that day, he had woken up with a sinking feeling in his stomach and a furrow between his brows. That day was going to be a horrible day, and he knew it even at 6:45 am when the snooze button on his alarm stopped working.
He got to school with no bad occurrences, almost forgetting what was making him so upset. But when he saw you and Lee Heeseung, his lips on your neck, he suddenly remembered.
It gave him momentarily relief when he recalled the apple sucker from yesterday, but when he caught himself smiling, his mood only soured further.
“Morning, sunshine!” Jake chirped, attacking from behind and ruffling Sunghoon’s hair cheerily. Sunghoon glanced back to give him a glare, attempting to repair the damage Jake had done to his hairdo.
“You seem awfully jolly this morning,” he said gruffly.
“I don’t know. Something good is in the air this morning.” Jake hummed, hands in his pockets and a significant spring in his step. 
He couldn’t very well admit that he was orchestrating an entire plan to get you and Sunghoon alone together so you’d finally resolve your issues. And he definitely couldn’t mention that he was plotting in cahoots with your best friend. 
“Yeah, right.” Sunghoon scoffed.
“I’m assuming that —once again— you’ve chosen to have a bad attitude today?” Jake asked rhetorically. He already knew the answer. He knew his best friend well enough to decipher when he was upset, although it was easy enough that anyone could probably tell; Sunghoon was in an awful mood on most days.
“It’s not something I choose.” Sunghoon scoffed, still messing with his hair.
“Sure it isn’t.” Jake said sardonically, punching him in the shoulder as Sunghoon glared, rubbing the sore area. “Don’t be a- oh hey!” Sunghoon whirled around at his best friend’s sudden topic switch to see you dashing past. “Hey, did you do the chemistry homework last night?”
“Of course I did.” you scoffed. “I’m assuming you didn’t?”
“Clearly you know me well. No chance I could get the notes off of you?”
“No chance, sorry Jake.” you laughed like the tinkling of bells. “But who knows, I might pass you the answer sheet while the teacher isn’t looking.”
“You’re the best!” he grinned as you saluted playfully. Your joyous facade faded for a moment when your gaze locked with Sunghoon’s briefly. You searched his face for any sign that he had received your gift, but his stoic glare firmly remained. You held back the urge to roll your eyes, turning on your heel.
Your lack of a response only made Sunghoon more upset. He was scowling hotly, so much so, that it was certain you could fry an egg on his head.
“She’s such a pretender. Can you fucking believe that?” You heard him scoff just before you left, an accusatory hand pointing in your direction. Jake cocked his head, and Sunghoon’s scowl deepened. “She didn’t even acknowledge that I was here!”
“Why should she?” Jake laughed, tucking his hands into his pockets and walking away as Sunghoon froze on the spot, practically shaking with rage.
Oh, you were going to regret ignoring him.
It almost made Sunghoon sick to think about how much he used to like you.
He thought of all the times he had written your name in his notebook surrounded by hearts and little angel wings. All the times he wished he could bring you flowers, or tell you how he felt. All the times he watched Heeseung sweep you off your feet, and felt bitter resent in his throat. For the first time in his miserable 14 years, he was certain he was in love. It was a bit far-fetched, considering he had only spoken to you once or twice. He didn’t know if he had ever had a full conversation with you.
What was it all for? Why did the girl he loved have to hurt him so bad?
It made him think that life wasn’t very fair. That people were egocentric, they didn’t consider others feelings. He was pathetic, he knew that. He should let it go, forget about what happened between the two of you and move on. He had his own life, you had yours. His existence shouldn’t center around the hatred of another human being.
Maybe hating you was an escape. Maybe he hated you because he couldn’t handle the thought of loving you anymore.
The line between hate and love was very fine. Even he knew that.
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
You really didn’t want to go to this party. The more you thought about it, the more you felt sick to your stomach.
After the week you had, drinking with a bunch of teenagers sounded like the last thing you wanted to do. Even being around your friends and boyfriend sounded deeply unappealing; for the first time you could remember, you just wanted to be alone. But you knew this was important to your clique, and so you sucked it up, brushing the dust off the front of your party dress and turning around to your friends.
Ningning and Karina sat on the bed, on their phones. Ningning was dressed in an orange tube top dress, Karina wearing an identical one in purple. Neither of them noticed you until you cleared your throat, and they fawned over your dress.
They were your friends, supposedly. You liked them well enough, and they seemed to like you the same. They were sweet girls, but you didn’t really connect. The only reason you were friends was because you were popular, and so were they. You were living in a dog-eat-dog world, where popular girls became friends with each other to avoid making enemies. You wished it wasn’t like that, and you had a feeling they did too.
Yeonjun walked into the room with a big, cheesy grin on his face, toting your boyfriend behind him. Further back were Beomgyu, Huening Kai, Taehyun, and Soobin, the rest of your boyfriend's older friends. See also: people you didn’t really connect with.
“Are you girls ready?” Yeonjun asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes as the group crowded in. Heeseung came from the back of the procession to take your hands, and it felt like a breath of fresh air. You sighed as the others engaged in conversation.
Heeseung frowned. “You okay? You usually love Yeonjun’s parties.” You brushed some stray hair out of your face and painted on a smile.
“I’m fine, Hee. Thanks for looking out for me.” you said. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, adjusting your necklace so the clasp was aligned with the nape of your neck.
“Anytime you wanna leave, just say the word. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.” You held his hand with a smile.
“Don’t worry about me, baby. Just have fun.” you ushered him towards his friends, and he gave you a brief look before he went to join them. The crowd filed out of the bedroom and into the living room, ready to party.
You sighed, looking at yourself in the mirror for a moment and taking a deep breath to relax yourself. You had no idea why you were so nervous. You had done this a million times around. You knew the party scene like the back of your hand, it was the life you had been living for the past four years.
You stared at the pink dress you were wearing. It was your favorite dress, yet somehow it didn’t feel good anymore. The lamp from the ceiling shone on your necklace, the bright, diamond letter H catching the light.
Usually, you tried not to let Sunghoon get to you. He was just a jealous, rude, idiot who wanted to bring you down for no reason. But today, his words reverberated in your head, ringing painfully, no matter how hard you tried to get them out.
She’s such a pretender.
It made you wonder, was he right? Were you putting on a show for everyone but you? You had played your role so well, you had almost fooled yourself.
Sometimes you got tired of being perfect. You got tired of keeping up your facade all the time. You almost lost yourself in the process.
Maybe Sunghoon was right. Maybe you were a pretender. Maybe hating you meant that he was the only one who really understood you.
And maybe that was a good enough reason to hate him a little less.
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 - chapter iv.
“For the record, I am not happy about this.” Sunghoon said for what must’ve been the millionth time that night. Jake had forced him into a button up and combed his hair, in comparison to his usual overgrown bangs and old band tee. He cleaned up nice, but the boy’s foul expression was enough to drive off any prospective attention.
“Tough luck.” Jake said, adjusting his chain as he smiled charmingly at himself in the mirror. “It’s one party. You’ll be fine.” Sunghoon continued to grumble.
He wasn’t used to seeing himself done up nicely. He felt too vulnerable without his long bangs hiding his eyes and a hoodie to cover himself up. It didn’t feel right to see himself fixed up like this, but he kept telling himself that it was only once, for Jake.
Jake looked down at the watch on his wrist, a string of curses leaving his lips.
“Shit, Sunghoon, we gotta go. We’re late.” he grabbed his jacket off the coat rack, dashing out the door while Sunghoon dragged his feet behind him.
“We’re fashionably late.” the younger boy corrected, Jake turning around to give him an impatient look, nodding his head towards his car.
“We’re gonna miss all the fun, c’mon.” Sunghoon frowned.
“What a shame.” he mumbled under his breath, following his best friend into the car and praying that this night would go well, and without conflict.
That was wishful thinking.
Sunghoon instantly knew he was right when they pulled up into Yeonjun’s driveway. He could hear the music pumping from inside the house, so loud it made his ears ache. He could see the crowds of people through the enormous glass windows, and grimaced at the idea of being among the masses of sweaty bodies. Jake however, seemed delighted, and so Sunghoon tried to put a smile on his face.
Jake turned off the ignition, leaning over to his best friend and studying the blank look on his face. “Ready?” he asked, and Sunghoon nodded with an exasperated sigh, unbuckling his seatbelt and slamming the car door behind him. Jake rolled his eyes.
“This is going to be a nightmare.” Sunghoon said, unable to hold back a quip. Jake patted him on the shoulder, ringing the doorbell with a grin.
“Let’s see if you can last the whole night.”
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
It had only been an hour and your head was already pounding.
All the lights felt too bright, the music was too loud, and too many people were trying to talk to you. After having your crisis of self merely 60 minutes previous, you were definitely not in the mood to make conversation with anyone. You downed your third vodka soda of the night and felt everything get a little hazier. You were satisfied when the sound got a little quieter and the lights became less harsh.
Toting your fourth drink in hand, you dropped down to the couch. Most people were busy dancing, thank God, and the only people on the couch was a girl vomiting in Yeonjun’s best porcelain vase and her friend coaxing it out of her. You didn’t mind it too much. At this point, you were craving some humanity.
You felt a little at ease when Jay sat beside you, smiling in greeting. Jay was pretty much the only one of Heeseung’s friends whom you actually liked.
“How’s the night going?” you asked, sipping on the red cup in your hand.
“It’s alright.” he said, his words slurred as he rubbed his nose. It was clear that he had more than a few drinks, probably a couple past his capacity. “Your friend- what’s her name? Tried talking to me earlier.” You didn’t bother to inquire. “Ning? Ningning?” he laughed to himself. He was obviously drunk, so you took another sip and ignored his ramblings. Even the most sensible of people were insufferable to you at the moment. 
He sniffled briefly, and you studied his face. You could practically see the gears in his head turning as he poked his tongue into the flesh of his left cheek thoughtfully.
“Hey,” he suddenly said, looking at you very seriously. “I’m really sorry about that Sunghoon thing, y’know. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, and it’s really been bothering me.” You furrowed your brows.
“What Sunghoon thing?” you said, and his jaw dropped open, laughing drunkenly as he covered his mouth. Clearly he had said something he wasn’t supposed to.
“Oops, did Heeseung never tell you?” he said, trying to backtrack. “Oh, we just fucked with Sunghoon a little in sophomore year. You know, back before you and Heeseung started dating.” An awful feeling crept into your insides as you stared at him relentlessly until he finally continued. “We, uh, we just wrote him a letter or something like that.”
“What did it say?” you demanded.
“Oh, you know.” he said for the thousandth time, and you were beginning to lose your patience. He took a swig of your drink to loosen his tongue. Jay knew he shouldn’t be the one to tell you about this, but his conscience was pressing him to continue, and so he did. “We just said some mean stuff, called him a freak. Told him to stay away from you. It was Heeseung’s idea, really.”
You felt a pit in your stomach. You felt so sick, you didn’t even have the capacity to register the anger bubbling up in your throat. Why would your boyfriend do this? What had Sunghoon ever done to him?
You didn’t even notice that you were defending Sunghoon over Heeseung.
“Why would you do that?” you asked blankly, and Jay stood up quickly, stumbling drunkenly as he almost lost his balance. He sensed that he said something he shouldn’t, and if he kept drunkenly blabbering, Heeseung would definitely kick his ass for it sooner or later.
“Uh, you should ask Heeseung about t-this.” he stuttered, evading before you got angry. He had never seen you upset before. Nobody had, with the exception of one.
You stood from the couch, downing the remainder of your drink, feeling the alcohol leave a burning trail down your throat before you tossed the cup to the side.
You had to find your boyfriend.
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
Dear Sunghoon,
I know you have a crush on me. I’m sorry to say this, but I really don’t reciprocate your feelings. To be honest, I find it disgusting that you think you even have a chance with me.
Maybe you haven’t realized, but we come from completely different worlds. People actually like me. You might not know what that feels like, but it’s actually pretty nice to be liked. I get good grades, I make friends, I do the work. Something you wouldn’t know much about. You’re nothing compared to me. You have no idea what it’s like to be admired, or to have friends. Maybe that’s because you’re always alone, daydreaming like a fucking loser.
I could never love someone like you. You’re a freak.
Sincerely, y/n.
P.S. I’m in love with Lee Heeseung.
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
Jake, that bastard, had absolutely disappeared. He had left Sunghoon stranded in a house full of strangers. And not just any house; the house of the man he disliked nearly the most. Well, after you, then Heeseung, then Jungwon… you get the point.
Sunghoon wasn’t a big drinker, but he downed any alcohol he could get his hands on. His fourth shot of vodka left a fierce burning in his throat, and he tried his best to ignore it. Alcohol was just about the only thing that could make him feel a little less alienated in a place full of people that despised him. With every sideways glance, even an admiring or curious one, he felt more and more like running away. But he promised to stick around for the night, and he was a man of his word. Most of the time, at least.
He felt his eyes almost roll into the back of his head when Lee Heeseung approached him, toting one of his goons behind him.
“Can I help you?” Sunghoon said from behind the rim of his cup, brows raised skeptically. Heeseung had a foul look on his face, one that Sunghoon hadn’t really seen before. He seemed to be a jolly guy most of the time.
“What are you doing here?” he said, voice low.
“Sorry, I wasn’t informed that you were Yeonjun’s security guard. I’ll be on my way out, if need be.” Sunghoon said sardonically, and Heeseung’s scowl only deepened.
“I’m warning you, watch what you say to me.” Heeseung said, pointing so closely, his index finger nearly brushed his chest. “I think we both know you don’t belong here.”
“Wow, it seems like you’ve got an attitude problem. Not as innocent as everyone thinks, huh?” Sunghoon didn’t shy away from the contact, attempting to close the inch difference between their heights. It was a lot harder than it seemed. “Just like you little girlfriend.” he provoked, and Heeseung grabbed the front of his shirt, jaw pulsing.
“You watch what you saw about her.” Heeseung said through grit teeth. “You’re just jealous, and we all know it. She could never love someone like you. You’re a freak.”
I could never love someone like you. You’re a freak.
Sunghoon furrowed his brow. He tried his hardest to keep his lower lip from trembling. He couldn’t show that he was hurt, no matter what.
“I’m not afraid of you.” he said.
Heeseung scoffed. “You’re pretending.”
“I’m not the only one.” The two boys stood in silence for a beat.
Heeseung dropped Sunghoon’s shirt, adjusting his jacket with a glare. “Fuck you, Sunghoon. We come from different worlds, you have no idea what it’s like to be me.”
We come from completely different worlds. 
You have no idea what it’s like to be admired.
With that, Heeseung was gone, his lackeys disappearing as well. And it was all coming back to Sunghoon, biting his lip furiously to distract from the burning in his eyes. He downed the rest of what was in his cup, wandering back to the kitchen.
Maybe he wasn’t welcome here, but he was going to drink them dry before he left.
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
“I have a surprise for you!” Jungwon waved his arms excitedly. You stared at him, completely unamused. Your best friend definitely had the worst timing ever.
“I’m a little busy.” you said, trying to push past him to no avail. You didn’t feel like explaining your situation, not until after you talked to your boyfriend. 
“It’s really important,” Jungwon insisted, pressing his hands to the small of your back and steering you towards the staircase. You tried to squirm out of his grip but gave up about halfway through. You would humor Jungwon and see his stupid surprise, then you’d find Heeseung and have a serious conversation.
“Okay, right this way,” Jungwon mumbled, pushing you into a spare guest bedroom. “Wait here for just a moment, I need to get something ready.”
“How long is this going to take?” you said exasperatedly, flopping down onto the bed and crossing your arms.
“Just a minute!” he yelled before slamming the door, dashing away.
As he walked into the corridor, he high fived a certain blond haired boy, Jake rushing by to find his respective best friend.
“Some guy upstairs said he was looking for you.” Jake said, jabbing his thumb at the staircase. Sunghoon’s brows knitted, looking up skeptically before taking another swig of the drink in his hand.
“Me? Was it Heeseung?” Jake shrugged ambiguously.
“Don’t know. He was walking real fast, muttering your name. I think he went into one of the rooms upstairs.” Sunghoon put down his cup, rolling his eyes and heading quickly to the staircase. Jake grinned successfully, trailing behind the boy as he muttered strings of profanities and insults.
“What the fuck does he want…” Sunghoon grumbled, opening the first door he saw when he went upstairs, shutting it in exasperation when a couple screamed, their intimacy interrupted. Jake grimaced; Sunghoon seemed unaffected. He continued this with three more doors, until he finally reached one with a white frame and a silver handle, one with squeaky hinges, one that locked from the outside.
“Where is he-” Jake shoved the boy with all his might, slamming the door behind him as his best friend yelped, pounding on the door. Jungwon came running from around the corner, diving for the doorknob with a key in hand, turning it firmly in the lock. No matter how much Sunghoon protested, it was futile.
“Nice one.” Jake said, high fiving the younger boy as the two proudly celebrated their success. They stared at the door until Sunghoon’s protests went quiet, and the culprits were left with an awkward silence as they registered their actions.
“...We did a good thing, right?” Jungwon asked unsurely. “...Yeah. Definitely.”
“Oh, fucking excellent. God, this night couldn’t get any worse.” Sunghoon said immediately upon noticing your presence. He huffed, pacing around the room while you stared at him, eyes watery, biting down on your lip hard. Sunghoon was filled with so much rage, he was unable to speak, and the two of you sat in silence for a brief second before you got to your feet, walking straight up to him and slapping him in the face.
“I am so fucking mad at you!” you yelled, shocking both of you.
“Me? What could I have possibly done to make you mad at me?” Sunghoon shouted incredulously, pressing his hand to his hot cheek, red blooming under his skin.
“This whole rivalry!” you said, gesturing vaguely. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Tell you what?” he asked irritatedly.
“About the letter!” Sunghoon paled. He had imagined this moment a hundred times over, and none of those hypotheticals went like this. He simply couldn’t have this conversation with you, it was too painful. It was in the past.
“Why should I? You’re the one that wrote it.” he said frustratedly.
“Jeez, you’re so fucking stupid. I never would have done that to you. I wouldn’t say any of that mean shit to you. I didn’t write that letter!”
He scoffed, “Oh yeah, then who did?”
“Heeseung did, Sunghoon.” He paused for a moment, not sure what to say.
You’re just jealous, and we all know it. 
She could never love someone like you, you’re a freak. 
We come from completely different worlds.
You have no idea what it’s like to be me.
Heeseungs hurtful words rang around his head, cutting into his skin like hot knives. It was impossible. You wrote the letter. Heeseung wouldn’t have done that.
“Why would he do that?” you stared at him, unbelieving at how oblivious he was.
“Because I was in love with you, obviously!”
It felt like Sunghoon’s heart was on fire. The two of you stared at each other in silence for what felt like centuries, Sunghoon’s head spinning. Suddenly, everything was much too real for him to take in. His rising body temperature, the sweet lilt of your voice, the way you looked at him through your lashes.
“What?” he questioned blankly, hardly even registering what you were saying. He felt dizzy. “You were in love with me?”
“Well, it was freshman year. I was 14. Can you just shut the fuck up? I’m still mad at you.” you said, your cheeks went aflame with the realization of what you had just said.
He grinned. “You’re so dumb.”
“You’re so fucking annoying-” Suddenly, his lips crashed into yours.
He tangled his hands in your hair, knotting his left hand in your hair. You kissed him in return as he held your waist in his right hand, his teeth biting your lower lip. You both fought for dominance, staggering through the room until your back hit the wall, and you wrapped a leg around his waist as he cursed under his breath. It was a kiss of hatred, but at the same time, relief. His lips felt as though they were made to fit yours, fitting like a puzzle piece. You parted for a breath, but he pulled you back in hungrily.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” The two of you pulled away immediately as Jake cursed loudly, Jungwon behind him with a look on his face like you had just shot him. “What is wrong with you two? We wanted you to make up, not make out!”
“Get the fuck out!” Sunghoon shouted, running after his best friend and shoving him away, slamming the door behind them with a heavy exhalation. When he turned back to you, you were trying to hold back a giggle and failing miserably.
The two of you began to laugh, and Sunghoon dropped to the floor with a sigh, you doing the same and sidling up to him.
“I can’t believe we just did that.” you said, feeling intensely embarrassed.
“ Yeah, I bet you’ll give me herpes.” Sunghoon mocked, and you turned to him with a glare, and he held his hands up. “Old habits die hard. But I really am sorry I was mean to you. I didn’t know Heeseung wrote the letter.” You scowled at the reminder.
“Heeseung…” you said, rubbing your eyes. “Jesus. What am I gonna do about him?” Sunghoon didn’t reply, staring at the ceiling thoughtfully.
“Did you ever think I was a freak?” he asked suddenly. You frowned.
“Why would I think that?”
“I don’t know. I was always alone, always daydreaming. I wasn’t popular or anything. Didn’t you ever consider that you shouldn’t like someone like me?”
“Someone like you?” you snorted. “C’mon, don’t be full of yourself. You’re just a person. I could care less if you like to be alone, or if you daydream. So does everyone else, they’re just not brave enough to say it aloud.” Sunghoon smiled in relief, and he wanted nothing more than to press another hungry kiss to your lips. But he knew he needed to hold back. I mean, you had just gotten over your rivalry a couple minutes ago. He should probably give it some time before he starts kissing his ex-nemesis.
“You should probably go,” he said, avoiding eye contact. “I bet people are looking for you. And I think you might need to talk to your boyfriend.”
“Ex boyfriend, when I’m done with him.” you said, rolling your eyes and getting to your feet, bruising the dust off of your dress. You held out a hand to assist Sunghoon in getting up, and he took it with a smile. You walked, turning back when he didn’t follow you. “C’mon. Let’s show Heeseung that we’re not enemies anymore.”
He couldn’t hold back his grin.
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
You felt like the room quaked when you walked downstairs with Sunghoon.
The music didn’t stop, but it almost seemed like everything went silent, hundreds of pairs of eyes landing on the two of you immediately, narrowed, criticizing. Sunghoon was sweating at the judgment, but you strode confidently, not paying any attention to their stares. And like magic, everyone began to turn around and mind their own business. You sent Sunghoon a wink.
“Do anything with confidence, and people won’t give a shit.” you said. Sunghoon grinned. He knew he had a lot to learn from you. The two of you slid through the bodies, navigating your way through until you spotted him from across the room.
Lee Heeseung. The man you called the love of your life just a few hours ago. You wonder if you still loved him after what happened.
“I think I’m gonna head out.” Sunghoon said, tilting his head towards the door.
“See you later, Sunghoon. Don’t be a stranger.” you said, before turning on your heel and marching away. He shook his head at your retreating figure, smiling with a warm blush on his cheeks before he made his exit.
“Heeseung!” you yelled across the room, attempting to pass by the hordes of drunks to get to your boyfriend. Him and his friends were playing a rowdy game of beer pong, and he watched you inquisitively with a ball in hand. “We need to talk.”
“About what, baby?” he asked, tossing the ball and scoring with ease, Yeonjun and Beomgyu cheering behind him and chanting his name.
“Heeseung.” you said his name coldly, and he grew serious within an instant.
“Yeonjun, take my place.” he said, slapping his friend on the back as the boy raised his brow, the group watching you with curiosity as you walked away.
You led Heeseung to the backyard, crossing your arms the minute you turned around to face him. He could tell you were serious as ever.
“What is it baby?” he said with concern, reaching for your arm, but you pulled away from him quickly. He only grew more worried.
“Heeseung, do you have anything to tell me?” you asked vaguely, and every bad thing he had done in his entire life ran through his head in an instant.
“No?” he said pathetically. “Y/n, will you just tell me what you want?”
“Why did you write Sunghoon that letter?” Heeseung paled. He didn’t think you would find out. Not this soon. “You said such hurtful things to him, why? And addressed from me?” You said, voice wobbling.
“Baby, let me explain-”
“You’re the reason Sunghoon hated me so much. I put up with his belittling for years because I thought I deserved it somehow. Just to find out it was you all along? What kind of fucked up person would do that?”
“How else was I supposed to get him away from you?”
“That’s not your decision to make, Heeseung.” you said coldly.
“Look, baby, that was all in the past. I’m really sorry, can’t we just look past it?”
“No, Heeseung, because you hurt an innocent person really badly. And that is always unforgivable.” you sighed, pinching the space between your brows.
“He doesn’t matter, y/n. I’m your boyfriend, not him!”
“Well, not anymore.” Both of you froze. Through the glass walls, the entirety of the party stared at the two of you, Decelis’ golden couple. Now destroyed.
“You’re breaking up with me,” Heeseung said slowly, in disbelief. “Over Park Sunghoon?” You stared at him for a moment, before steeling yourself.
“Yes. Yes I am.” And then you walked off, pushing past the shocked crowds with tears in your eyes, gunning it for the door and disappearing into the night.
Something was telling you to run after him.
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
epilogue.
“She’s still at it?” Jake asked in disbelief. Just a moment previous, you had strode straight up to Sunghoon from your spot at the blackboard with the utmost confidence and placed a lollipop onto his lap. You didn’t even look into his eyes, just turning on your heel and returning to your duties.
He was beginning to get envious looks from his fellow classmates, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it.
“S’pose so.” Sunghoon said, unwrapping the cellophane and popping the treat into his mouth with a satisfying suction sound. “Mm. At least she’s giving me good flavors these days.”
“It’s been three years. You’d think she’d stop by now.” Jake shook his head, tossing his notebooks and laptop into his backpack as the bell rang, dismissing class.
“She’ll never stop. She loves me.” Sunghoon grinned proudly, the stick of his lollipop protruding from the corner of his upturned mouth.
“Why doesn’t she ever bring me lollipops?” Sunghoon frowned, slapping Jake in the back with his notebook before shoving it into his duffel. “Ow! What?”
“She’s my girlfriend. She’s not allowed to give lollipops to anyone but me.” Sunghoon said, like it was obvious, walking to the front of the class with Jake in tow just behind him. “Besides, you don’t even like lollipops anyway.”
“It’s the thought that counts.”
Even after a year of dating, you and Sunghoon were still up to your classic shenanigans. It was a wonder that the two of you were still together, considering how often you bickered. You were lucky that you loved each other more than enough to make up for the arguments.
“Hey, baby.” he said, striding up to your place at the front of the class and pressing a sloppy kiss onto your cheek. You wiped your cheek off with a playful scowl, before plucking the lollipop from Sunghoon’s mouth and putting it between your lips.
“Hey, Hoonie. Hey, Jake.” You reached for your boyfriend’s hand as the three of you walked out of class together. “How was practice, you two?”
“Mm, I’m tired.” Sunghoon said, pecking you as Jake rolled his eyes at your overt pda. “Jake’s been keeping me busy with training.”
“If you weren’t so shit, I wouldn’t have to train you all the time.” Jake ruffled the younger boy’s hair as he looked up at him with a scowl. After your debacle with Heeseung, Jake quit the rugby team, deciding he favored soccer. It turned out to be a good decision, as he was quite good at it, and you decided it must have been pure fate that gave him a scholarship to the same college you and Sunghoon were attending.
“Hey, I joined soccer way before you did. Have some respect for your seniors.” Sunghoon said, evading Jake’s hands as he reached to slap the younger boy, the two tussling as you watched with a smile, sucking on your lollipop. “Jesus, don’t you ever get tired of those two?” a weary voice said, sidling up to you as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. You turned to face Jungwon, his bangs matted to his forehead and his button up shirt nearly halfway undone.
“You’ve been sleeping during class?” you asked, humor in your tone as your best friend turned to you with a raised brow.
“How could you tell?” You didn’t answer. Sunghoon ran to you, a big grin on his face as he dragged Jake behind him in a headlock.
“Hey, Jungwon.” he said, reaching for a handshake that Jungwon didn’t reciprocate. He then reached for the stick dangling from your lips, removing it, kissing you softly, and then putting the sucker back in his own mouth.
“You guys are disgusting.” Jake said, voice muffled from under Sunghoon’s bicep.
“Cherry, again?” Jungwon said, watching the bright red sphere as it protruded slightly from Sunghoon’s mouth. “I should’ve known you were up to something when you ordered them in bulk.”
“What can I say? A tradition’s a tradition.” you grinned, taking Sunghoon’s hand as the four of you walked in a line. “A lollipop a day keeps Park Sunghoon away.” He looked at you with a snort, unable to hold back a smile.
“Did you just come up with that?” he asked, amused.
“I did.” you hummed, and he pressed a kiss to your nose, Jungwon and Jake groaning loudly in unison.
“We get it, you’re in love.”
“Enough already, it’s gross.” they whined, and the two of you laughed together, swinging your hands back and forth like a little swing between your sides.
Who knew you and your enemy would fall in love? You certainly couldn’t have predicted it. Turns out that college life had a lot of unexpected surprises in store. But while everything kept changing, there was one thing that always stayed the same.
Sunghoon’s heart always skipped a beat when you gave him a lollipop.
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱
3K notes · View notes
amakumos · 11 months
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CUPID’S CONFLICT — yang jungwon
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synopsis. as the man behind cupid's corner, jungwon is responsible for getting majority of the couples at decelis together (namely, riki and his girlfriend.) but there's one person that always gets in the way of half of the couples that jungwon sets up together — you. you are the polar opposite of yang jungwon, affectionately called "evil cupid" by your friends, as you have the unfortunate ability to break any couple up within a couple of weeks just by taking a picture with them. it's not intentional, you tell jungwon. what's also not intentional, is when jungwon finds himself crushing on you.
pairing. non-idol! jungwon x fem! reader
genre. smau, humour, fluff, slight angst, (onesided) enemies to lovers
warnings. swearing, the y/n in this smau is not the same as cupid's corner y/n, jungwon's a little goofy
status. complete
author's note. well here it is !!! 2/3 of cupid's chronicles and the first spinoff of cupids corner. here we have cupid himself getting his own time to shine ^_^ is this inspired by rosé taking pics w celebs and then those celebs somehow break up w their s/o’s weeks or months later ??? yes!!!!
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PROFILES — cupid's minions / sport lovers / evil cupid's fans
ONE — im CURSED!!!! TWO — evil cupid strikes again THREE — whats after life FOUR — NICHOLAS???? FIVE — jang wonyoung saves the day SIX — We Broke Up (18:30) SEVEN — angry furry EIGHT — i see whats happening NINE — that's enough hyungyeom! TEN — they're single ELEVEN — bros in love TWELVE — wooden block THIRTEEN — wonwonwonwonwon FOURTEEN — i have prayed for this. FIFTEEN — let's see where this goes SIXTEEN — gunwook and eunchae best cupids SEVENTEEN — this is jungwon, he's? EIGHTEEN — who's he? NINETEEN — don't be a douchehole! TWENTY — the curse TWENTY ONE — don't you dare say a word TWENTY TWO — ur a lie guy TWENTY THREE — 100 bucks? TWENTY FOUR — sorry for being a douchehole TWENTY FIVE — eumppappa = cupid TWENTY SIX — liz’s secret admirer TWENTY SEVEN — i’m retiring! TWENTY EIGHT — the schemes of eunwook TWENTY NINE — human form of the 100 emoji THIRTY — uncursed
3K notes · View notes
haknom · 5 months
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EXES SUCK! — PARK SUNGHOON
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SYNOPSIS ⇾ Park Sunghoon, a former figure skater, and your ex-boyfriend. He was your first love back in high school, and was also your very close childhood friend but distanced away after he left unexpectedly. Now you two don’t communicate anymore which is quite sad but debuting with your newly made friends was amazing. And to help your group with promotions, your manager suggests you to be an MC at Music Bank with another male idol after your debut, only to find out it was your ex-boyfriend, Park Sunghoon.
PAIRING ⇾ idol-ex!sunghoon x idol-fem!reader (ft. enhypen, joonie from ichillin’ as y/n, chaewon from le sserafim as kia, ningning from aespa as mei, liz from ive as daisy, wonyoung from ive as melody, and many mentions of other idols).
WARNINGS ⇾ sunghoon is delulu (what’s a kayla smau if one main character isn’t delulu???), swearing, random time stamps, inside jokes, newjeans is the groups face claim, universe’s songs are from acc kpop groups um, more will be added!
STATUS ⇾ on hold (updates are whenever!)
NOTE ⇾ this idea is like a Year old LOL… it was supposed to come out instead of bad news but then i changed my mind (idol aus were Not my thing back then) TRUST i have good hopes for this one ! — also happy early bday soph 😁
TAGLIST IS CLOSED! ❤️‍🩹
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PROFILEZ — one / two
ONE — 5ALIVE NEVER FALLING!!!
TWO — i’m Alive.
THREE — ROTY + SOTY + AOTY.
FOUR — FATE
FIVE — but the bad news …
SIX — stayc and universe crumbs
SEVEN — funny joke!
EIGHT — surprise surprise!
NINE — does she want me be honest
TEN — reaction pic kms
ELEVEN — THE FUCK???
TWELVE — you’re so fucking in love
THIRTEEN — what the fuck is going on
BONUS CHAPTER — jungwon’s damage control
FOURTEEN — villain arc?
FIFTEEN — you’re y/n right?
SIXTEEN — you never cared
SEVENTEEN — case study for delusion
EIGHTEEN — tba…
NINETEEN — tba…
more coming soon! (unreleased chapter names may change!)
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© haknom 2023 - do not copy, translate, or plagiarize my work on other platforms!
2K notes · View notes
bywons · 5 days
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DREAM GIRL — LHS
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SYPNOSIS ► being single for too long doesn't suit the playboy lee heeseung of decelis university, especially when he's about to attend his best friend's brother's wedding. but he promised his friends of his promiscuous nature, that he'd stop this when he'll find his dream girl. but what if she's too hard to get and ignorant? lee heeseung is not used to that.
or where, lee heeseung tries to let go of his playboy tendencies to get a hold of his dream girl.
GENRE ► smau (+ written), fake dating, stangers to lovers, non-idol au, college au, crack, fluff, romance, angst, hurt/comfort
WARNINGS ► SLOW UPDATES age gap (heeseung is 1-2 years older than reader), all the characters are in college, cursing, de3th jokes, kys jokes, cheating allegations, alcohol consumptions + more tba
PAIRING + CAST ► playboy! lee heesung x f! reader ++ all of enha, ningning (aespa), haerin and minji (new jeans), kazuha (le sserafim) and other cameos
STATUS ► coming soon!
SRU'S NOTE ► all my moots influenced me (fomo) to write a smau tbh 💀 plus these days im not being able to find time to write a fic :(( but i really hope ya'll enjoy this my pooks pls don't let this flop yall TT PLS REBLOG!!
TAGLIST ► OPEN! send an ask/dm me/comment below this post to join the taglist for "dream girl" ! or even better, join my perm taglist (linked in my pinned post!) and never miss out a single work<3
READ MORE ON — CATALOGUE?!
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SPAM LIKING = BLOCK! | SPAM REBLOGS/COMMENTS = OK!
PROFILES ! the ultimate rizzlers | it girlz | sssh,, privates!
CHAPTERS !
OO1 : ???
OO2 : ???
OO3 : ???
more tba
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chaerryeoniis · 9 months
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safety zone | l.mk
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pairing ❥ mark x reader genre ❥ angst, fluff, suggestive, university! au, best friends to lovers, roommate au word count ❥ 19.1k note ❥ this was inspired by sticker teaser mark. also because he really does keep pushing the parasocial relationship agenda these days. i really hope you guys like this because it took me at least 40+ hours to get it out so it's practically my baby now playlist ❥ west coast love - emotional oranges | saturday nights - khalid | hits different - taylor swift |  shutdown - moonbyul, seori synopsis ❥ Mark Lee. The most perfect roommate and best friend that you could have asked for - except for the fact that he constantly messes up your laundry and can’t cook eggs very well. Even then, that doesn’t quite stop you from falling for him in your final year.
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You suppose meeting Mark Lee was a stroke of fate. Whether good or not, you had yet to find out.
Freshman orientation, and you had just been deposited on the concrete steps of the main university building by your parents, who were quick to drive off after giving you one last hug.
And as you passed through the hallowed halls where you were meant to spend the next five years of your life, thousands of other people your age rushing past you, you were excited. That you were finally on your own, free to do quite literally whatever the fuck you wanted.
The freedom was going to go to your head, and cause you to probably make a few bad decisions, but that was a problem for later.
For now, you had to get registered. If you could even find that tiny blue booth in this gigantic place.
And as you pulled your luggage up the steps, staring at the phone screen with your other hand, you supposed it was partially your fault that you didn’t see the boy walking straight past you, and also your fault that you didn’t hear him muttering an ‘excuse me’ under his breath.
However, it was a little too late to realise that before you were sent flying to the ground, a harsh exhale of air leaving you as you hit the ground with a thump.
And as you winced in pain, you looked up, only to be met with the culprit himself.
“Shit, I’m so sorry. Went too fast.” The boy in front of you is wide-eyed, hands fisting nervously in the material of his washed out jeans, the grey plaid flannel hanging loosely over his shoulders and white-shirt. “You good?”
He extends a hand out to you, and you take it without thinking as he pulls you up. It’s a while before you collect yourself, glancing at him and not quite sure what to say.
“Um,” he scratches the back of his neck, cringing slightly. “Really sorry about that. First day here and I’m already knocking people down. I guess Hyuck was right.”
You have no idea who Hyuck is, and why he’s predicting the future for the awkward, gangly-limbed boy in front of you, but the sight of his expression makes you soften a little. He’s genuinely apologetic about it, and you suppose that beyond your ass being sore for the next two days, there hasn’t been much harm done.
“It’s okay. You’re a freshman too?” You ask, trying to break the ice a little - he seems nice enough, the kind of person who you’d smile at on campus when passing by.
At your question, he laughs a little, eyes lighting up. “Yeah. I was trying to find the registration counter before I crashed right into you.”
“Well, if you help me find it, consider this accident gone from my memory. I’m a little lost too,” you offer, and he nods eagerly. “No problem. It’s down that way, I think.”
And when he turns, motioning for you to follow, you smile. Your first friend on campus. Sort of.
“Hey, I realised I still don’t know your name,” you say, and Mystery Boy seems to hesitate for a moment, before smiling at you.
“Mark Lee. Engineering faculty. You?”
“Y/N. Early education.”
“So you wanna be a teacher?” he asks, and you shrug. “Don’t know. I’m not sure how much I like working with kids yet.”
“That’s fair. Oh, we’re here.” He halts his steps, joining the queue with you.
It’s not long before the both of you reach the front, the students being registered in pairs.
The person handling the both of you is a young-looking guy, and his nametag reads Jung Jaehyun. When he smiles, his dimples are obvious, and you find yourself relaxing a little.
“Registration documents, please. We’ll get this done quickly,” he says, quickly scanning the papers that you and Mark hand over.
“You’ll be staying in the dorms for the first semester, and then afterwards, you can either do rental on your own, or off-campus housing. Any ideas yet?” Jaehyun asks, and you motion for Mark to go first.
“Um, rental on my own.”
You nod in agreement at that. “Yeah, me too.”
You’ve heard that the off-campus housing isn’t that great, and almost the same price as apartments in the city.
“Well, that works. Though, word of advice-” Jaehyun rests his hand on the table, meeting both of your eyes. “Get a roommate. Or two. Saves lots of money. Preferably one who doesn’t smoke copious amounts of weed, because it stinks up the entire house.”
He says it like he has personal experience, and you cough into your hand, nodding.
“Either of you got roommates yet?”
“No.” You and Mark say it in unison, looking at each other when you realise it and grinning slightly.
Jaehyun leans back, looking at the both of you with an unreadable look in his eyes. “Either of you stoners?”
You and Mark shake your head, and he whistles, impressed. “That’s rare. Well, just rent an apartment together, then.”
You glance at Mark, not quite sure what to say - you just met the man, after all.
“Um, we’ll think about it. Thanks for the suggestion,” he says, and Jaehyun nods. “No problem. here are your nametags, and you can head to the central square for the welcome activities.”
Your fingers close around the thin plastic folder, quickly thanking Jaehyun before you leave with Mark, the suggestion still lingering in your mind.
You do need a roommate. And Mark seems like a chill enough person, unless he’s secretly a serial killer.
“So…where are you planning to rent?”
“Probably somewhere near the city centre, but south. It’s nearer to the engineering faculty.”
When Mark says that, you feel a little bit more hopeful. “Me too. The education building’s just two subway stops down.”
“I wouldn’t mind, actually. You pay rent on time?”
“Yeah, I will. Dividing chores?”
“Of course. Also, just to make sure-” his mouth quirks up at the side. “You’re not a serial killer, right?”
“Fortunately not. I was thinking the same thing too.”
“Okay, great to know that we’re both not serial killers.” His comment lightens the mood a little, and you pause in your steps, outstretching your hand to Mark.
“Give me your phone. I’ll put my number in, and we can be friends first before deciding if we want to rent together next semester.”
He doesn’t protest, quickly slipping his phone out of his pocket and keying in his password.
And as you take it, you see his wallpaper - it’s a little white dog, staring up into the camera while someone’s sneakers are in frame - maybe his.
“Your wallpaper is cute. Is it your dog?” you ask, and Mark’s cheeks redden slightly as he shakes his head. “My friend’s. She’s called Daegal.”
“She’s really small. I wanted a dog when I was a kid,” you say off-handedly, quickly typing in your number and saving it with a ‘Y/N (potential future roomie)’ before giving his phone back to him. “Here.”
“You could get one next time.”
“Maybe. I can barely take care of myself now. I’m not sure if I can handle a dog.”
“I could ask my friend for advice, if you need it,” he says, smiling when he sees the contact name you saved. “Anyways, I’ll see you around, potential future roomie. We can get coffee next week or something.”
“Sounds good to me. By the way, Mark-”
He looks up at you, hands already tucked into his pockets.
“Who’s Hyuck?”
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You only meet Hyuck, or otherwise known to everyone else as Lee Donghyuck, after you actually become roommates with Mark.
Somewhere along the way, the coffee outings had worked out, neither you or Mark finding each other’s presence unwanted, until it became natural to see Mark at least twice a week. Sometimes, it was midnight fries at McDonalds, and other times, it was lunches in the food hall, praying that the fresh pasta hadn’t yet run out.
And when the semester ended, you hadn’t hesitated to sign the lease that Mark handed you, for a perfectly-sized two-bedroom apartment overlooking one of the many crisscrossing side streets that made up the district.
It had the kitchenette you wanted, enough space in the living room for a four-person couch, and space for Mark to put his keyboard and guitar - which was the only thing he really wanted, honestly. The rest of the finishing touches had been suggested by you, like the IKEA oak coffee table and the extra cabinets for storage space.
The first month had been awkward and fraught with trivial disagreements, despite your relatively close friendship. Things like Mark not separating the blacks and whites during his laundry runs, or your terrible habit of leaving the bathroom light on at night. At some point, the both of you had even bickered over what plates to get, partially because you didn’t trust him with fragile items quite yet.
But his easygoing nature matched well with yours, and eventually the both of you settled into the rhythm of living together. He learnt that rule number one was to never go into your room without knocking or asking first, and you eventually stopped nagging at him to put a shirt on unless you were having friends over.
And sometime in August, you had come home, groceries in both of your hands, to find a complete stranger sitting on your couch, headphones placed squarely on his head.
You had screamed at him. and Donghyuck, naturally, had screamed back.
The both of you looked at each other, frozen, before Mark came rushing down the hallway, a confused expression on his face. “What- oh.”
“Mark, I thought you told her I was coming,” the man complains, his honey-brown hair falling over his eyes as he says it. Your gaze immediately shifts to your roommate, a very clear expression of what the hell? on your face.
“I think I forgot. Sorry. Um, Y/N, this is Hyuck.” Mark motions in the general periphery of the man on the couch, who smiles sweetly at you.
“Donghyuck to you. We’re not friends yet. Though we could be,” the boy adds thoughtfully, and you still haven’t quite recovered from the shock of the situation as you nod robotically. “Nice to meet you.”
Mark seems to notice the tension in the air, and immediately moves over to the kitchen counter. “I’ll help you unpack the groceries,” he offers, and you hand a few bags over to him.
Once Donghyuck’s out of earshot, however, you turn to Mark. “Is he staying for dinner? I don’t know if I bought enough ingredients.”
You and Mark had agreed to alternate cooking dinners each week, unless the other person had extenuating circumstances (like final exams). This week, it was your turn.
“It’s fine. If he doesn’t have enough, he can just make ramen,” Mark says, and you nod.
“Mark says you’re a really good cook.” The both of you jump at the sound of Donghyuck’s voice, not realising he came up behind at some point.
“That’s just because I can crack eggs, and Mark can’t.” You snort slightly at the expression on Mark’s face when you say that, his eyes widening in incredulity.
“You said I improved!”
“Having less eggshells to chew through in my omelette was an improvement,” you say, and his face falls comically. While he has made some improvements since learning to cook, you suppose eggs are the one thing that still intimidate him - Mark relies a lot more on oven-baked dinners and the air fryer to get the both of you through.
“You’re brave for eating what he makes,” Donghyuck comments.
“Very brave,” you say gravely, and he laughs. “I like her, Mark. She’s funny.”
“Thanks a lot, guys. Really feeling the love here,” your roommate grumbles, but Donghyuck ignores him, turning to you.
“Can we have kimchi-jjigae for dinner?” he asks, and you stiffen, because the ingredients you prepared are exactly for that dish. But you don’t quite want to give Donghyuck that satisfaction yet, only tilting your head up and narrowing your eyes at him.
“This isn’t a restaurant. You’ll eat what I give you.”
His eyes widen slightly, but it’s quickly replaced by mirth. “Noted, ma’am,” he retorts, and you decide that Donghyuck is the kind of person who’s annoying as all hell, but in the fun kind of way that makes you want to have him around and groan at his presence at the same time.
“Now, I need the both of you to move to the couch, because this kitchenette is way too small for three.” You make a shooing motion towards the two men, and thankfully, they listen obediently, Donghyuck returning back to his laptop.
After a while, you hear shuffling, and you turn to see Mark with his lips pursed, barely holding back a laugh. At the sight of his obvious amusement, you raise an eyebrow.
“Look at this video,” he says, turning the phone screen towards you, and you squint at the grainy resolution, before letting out a groan.
“Mark, this video is like, a decade old. No one watches Vines anymore,” you grumble, and your roommate stares at you incredulously. “But it’s still funny!”
“No, it’s not,” you say dryly, looking to Donghyuck for support, who’s watching the entire thing play out with amusement on his features. “Donghyuck, tell him the video isn’t funny.”
“That’s what I said. He sends me at least two a day,” the boy says from where he’s cross-legged on the couch, and Mark flashes you a look of utter, complete betrayal.
“Sorry, Mark,” you say lightly, patting him on the back in an act of comfort before he returns to the couch, dejected. It’s almost cute, and you hide your snort as you return back to your spot at the stove.
“What about this one?” You hear Mark ask Hyuck a few minutes later, who doesn’t hesitate to disagree and go on a tirade about how he doesn’t understand someone can be that unfunny and think it’s okay to put me through it by sending video after video.
The conversation only makes you smile as you settle into the familiar motion of prepping ingredients, something about it making you feel more at ease and more at home in the apartment that you’ve been in for only four months.
Corny sense of humor aside, you couldn’t ask for a better roommate. And you suppose Lee Donghyuck is okay too.
Eventually, the both of you do become friends, especially when Donghyuck realises the kimchi-jjigae you make is almost as good as his grandma’s, and while she’s a three-hour flight away, you and Mark live twenty minutes from his dorm.
Your freshman year passes that way, the beginning of so many things. Between the months spent studying and sitting at the counter eating ramen at midnight, Mark Lee becomes your best friend, until the both of you are almost inseparable.
And Donghyuck? Well, he comes and goes. Though you suppose you do have a modicum of affection for the overly dramatic theatre major.
There’s something thrilling about being in your final year, less than twelve months before you graduate.
You wonder if everything will be the same as it always is.
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“Who the fuck is Draymond Green?”
“He’s a basketball player, you idiot.”
“You could have said Stephen Curry. I know who that is.”
“Is that the only one you know?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.” Donghyuck sets down his drink as he says it, eyes deliberately challenging Chenle to continue their pointless banter, one that the rest of you witness quietly, already used to the both of them.
“If the both of you are done, try finishing the food. We ordered too much,” Jisung says, and both Donghyuck and Chenle turn towards him in sync.
“Are you giving me instructions?” Donghyuck asks incredulously.
“I’m older than you, you know,” Chenle not-so-helpfully points out, and you look at the youngest boy sympathetically as his shoulders sink and his lips purse in an almost comical expression of frustration.
Except that it’s Jisung, and you’ve always had a soft spot for the introverted dance major, who’s like a little brother to you.
“Quit it, you two. He acts more mature than the both of you on most days.” At your words, Jisung smiles brightly at you, and you motion for him to eat a little more. “A dance major needs more food.”
“Theatre majors need food too!” Donghyuck whines dramatically, and you don’t hesitate to move the plate away from him, ignoring his protests that become even louder.
“You should eat too,” Mark encourages in a low murmur, picking up the tempura with his chopsticks and placing it on your plate. “You didn’t take much.”
You smile at him, shaking your head. “It’s okay. Yeji bought pizza for everyone today after our meeting, and Ms Lee let us finish the leftover muffins. I’m stuffed.”
“Still, you shouldn’t drink on an empty stomach,” he chides, moving the can of cider a little further from you, and you decide to relent to your best friend’s demand.
“Got it. You know, you should have just gone for a degree in Nutrition,” you tease, and the corner of Mark’s mouth quirks up as he meets your eyes. “I could. But Engineering’s…fun.”
“Don’t lie, Mark. I sat in on one of your lectures once.”
“That’s because it was the middle of the year! And data structures is one of the hardest topics in the syllabus.”
“Still, I think that was enough numbers to last me a lifetime.” You shiver at the memory of the screen, the different formulas displayed having been enough to give you a headache.
“I could teach you,” he offers, and you raise an eyebrow. “You think you’re better than Mr Kim?”
“Probably. Unless you see me as a balding sixty-five-year-old on the verge of sleep.”
“I mean, there is a slight resemblance- ow!”
Mark pinches your side at your comment, taking more food and dumping it in your bowl. “No more nonsense. Eat, or you’re never getting your drink back.”
“You’re so bossy,” you grumble, but you take a few bites anyway, and he looks pleased when he sees you finish a little bit more of the rice.
Until you see Jisung frantically taking out his phone in your peripheral vision, his screen lighting up with something that makes him let out a guttural groan. Donghyuck and Chenle pause their conversation temporarily, just to turn towards him.
“What’s wrong?” Chenle asks, and Jisung seems to hesitate, fingers drumming on the table as he meets your gazes one by one.
“I forgot I have filming at eight tomorrow. Fuck,” he says, ruffling his own hair in frustration.
“And your dorm’s so far away from here too…”
You look at Mark, trying to think of a solution.
“Jisung?” The boy opposite looks up at your mention of his name. “How about you stay at our place tonight?” you offer.
He seems to think about it, glancing towards Mark for approval as well. Your roommate only shrugs. “Sure. We’ll make space.”
All at once, Jisung’s features seem to light up, and he clasps his hands together, head bent down. “Thank you. You two are lifesavers.”
His earnest words make you laugh softly. “Should we head back then? It’s late.”
Mark nods, motioning for the bill, and you pack up your things.
Eventually, the five of you leave the restaurant and step out onto the smooth cobblestone of the street, with Jisung, Donghyuck and Chenle in front while you and Mark trail behind.
“i can’t believe it’s already November,” Mark comments, gaze tilted upwards to the sky.
“Honestly, I don’t think I’ve even registered that we’re in our final year. Much less that the first semester is ending.”
“But you’ve got everything all planned out already, haven't you?”
“Sort of,” you reply sheepishly, and Mark laughs, shaking his head. “You’re way too ambitious. It’s a little scary.”
“Pretty sure I remember someone saying that ambition led to success in my high school Civics class. Either way, I want to retire by the time I’m forty.”
“Before that, could you use your income to buy us a bigger apartment?”
“What, you think we’ll be roommates with each other until I’m forty?”
“I don’t see why not,” Mark says earnestly, and it makes the space he takes up in your heart get a little bigger, curling warmly at the edges.
“I’ll think about it. Maybe I’ll move to an island in the middle of nowhere, away from civilization.”
‘As if. You’re a city girl,” he points out, and you know that Mark knows that you know he’s right. “So, roommates at forty?” he asks, and your lips tilt up involuntarily.
“Sure.”
It’s not long before you’re standing at the entrance of your apartment building, Donghyuck and Chenle waving goodbye before they head to the subway station. Meanwhile, Jisung follows behind the both of you, slightly reminiscent of a lost puppy.
Once you’re back home, you quickly hang your jacket in the cabinet. “I’m showering first, okay?”
The two boys make a noise of assent at your question, and you assume Mark’s going to lend Jisung his clothes to change into as they go down the hallway.
It’s only when you step out of the bathroom that you hear the soft background sound effects of some video game from Mark’s room, Jisung occasionally exclaiming something inaudible, and you smile slightly. Your best friend isn’t one for these sorts of things, but it’s quite a big hobby for the rest of them. There have been a few times where you’ve shuffled out of your bedroom at midnight to tell them to quiet down, usually receiving a few quickly muttered apologies before Donghyuck’s screaming at Mark to get his head in the game.
You hope that they won’t stay up too late, mainly for Jisung’s sake - he has a shoot, after all, and you’re pretty sure Mark doesn’t have any morning lessons on Saturdays.
Sleep finds you quickly, the alcohol from earlier making you just the right amount of drowsy as you attempt to set an alarm for tomorrow for breakfast.
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“Y/N.”
“Hey, wake up.”
“Y/N.”
You let out a groan into your pillow, turning away from the dream voice that sounds suspiciously like Mark - you’re too tired to deal with this.
But the voice doesn’t go away, instead changing to an insisted hand on your shoulder, shaking you awake, and you open your eyes to glare sleepily at your best friend, before looking at the clock.
“It’s four in the morning, Mark. Unless there’s a fire or something-”
“If there was a fire, I’d sound a lot more panicked than this, don’t you think?” he shoots back sarcastically, and you take in his appearance - he’s wearing a grey hoodie, a pillow hugged in his left arm, and looking just a little forlorn.
“What is it? I want to sleep,” you mumble.
“Jisung takes up too much space. And he snores.”
“Just push him.”
“I tried! Fell off the bed,” he confesses, and you would laugh at the scene, except that you’re still half-asleep.
“Can I just sleep here for tonight?” he asks, doe eyes blinking at you blearily, and you hesitate at the request - it’s not like you’re uncomfortable with Mark sleeping next to you. You’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder plenty of times, and there was that one time where you literally passed out drunk and the boy had to piggyback you to your apartment, but this is your bed.
However, you’re also well aware that Mark’s bed is a twin size, which is smaller and probably highly uncomfortable for him and Jisung to share, while yours is a queen.
You were being overdramatic. It was just a bed, and Mark was your best friend. Of three years, no less.
Also, it literally didn’t have to mean anything.
Right?
There was plenty of space. Enough for you to keep your distance from him.
You chalk up your doubts to late-night overthinking, and nod slowly. Well, as best as someone can nod while lying on their side, but it’s enough for Mark to smile at you gratefully.
“Take the left side. If you move over, I’ll kick you,” you threaten, and he nods eagerly. “Noted.”
And just for security, you place a pillow between the both of you.
It’s only when he’s lying down next to you, breathing evened out, that you peek open one eye. “Go to sleep.”
“Yeah, I will soon,” he promises, turning to face you. In the darkness of the room, you can barely make out his features, but you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
Something about it feels strangely sweet, enough for your cheeks to redden slightly as you turn resolutely away from him, staring hard at the wall of your cabinet. “Night.”
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Two months into your lease with Mark, the both of you had created your informal agreement, otherwise labelled as ‘Roommate Code of Honour’ on Mark’s Notes app.
“Code of honour? What are you, a boy scout?”
“I was, actually. First-class,” Mark says without hesitation, and you almost choke on the mouthful of chocolate cake that you have.
“Makes sense.” He seemed exactly like the kind of person who would be a boy scout.
“Anyways, this is just for us to put down stuff that we think is important. Like, I know that we’re supposed to separate the blacks and whites, but-”
“But-”
“What about coloured clothing?” he asks, and you gape at him. “Mark, have you been washing all the coloured clothes together?”
“Maybe…” he trails off, gaze leaving yours and anxiously taking a sip of the drink.
“Okay, this is a good idea. Give me your phone,” you say as you stretch out your hand, but Mark pulls his phone back from you.
“This is meant to be a collaborative process, Y/N.”
“It wasn’t collaborative the moment you turned all my white shirts grey.”
Mark winces at that. “Fair point. But we still need to be equal on this.”
“Fine,” you relent.
And over an hour, seated on the second floor of your favourite cafe, you and Mark pick the ten most important things that you want to keep, the others either compromised or decided as simply too insignificant.
#1: money (mark covers utilities, y/n handles groceries and household items)
#2: always put the toilet seat back down (and clean your hair off the sink after shaving)
“You leave hair all over the place too!” Mark protests, and you roll your eyes.
#2: always put the toilet seat back down (and clean your hair off everywhere)
#3: laundry and cleaning the house will be alternated each week
#4: two days’ advance notice before having anyone over (not required for hyuck, yeji, jaemin or karina)
“Does this include hookups?” you ask, and Mark blushes at that question. “Yeah, I guess.”
“No hookups on nights where the other person has to wake up early the next day,” you add, and he nods. “Sure.”
Most of them are trivial, but important - and despite all your teasing, you’re grateful for someone like Mark, who’s willing to be a good roommate.
Until you reach the last one, which makes you smile.
#10: movie nights are every friday at 10pm
Mark had argued something about ‘roommate bonding’, or the importance of relationship-building- you weren’t quite sure what exactly, but the idea had sounded good to you.
Because you’d never been one for university parties, preferring to stay in unless your presence was absolutely required, but the idea of unwinding with your close friend at the end of the week was a welcome form of socialization.
“Do we pick the movie every week?” you ask, and he nods. “We can make a list too.”
“Okay.” You slide the phone back over to him, finishing the last of your coffee. “I think this looks good.”
“Me too,” Mark says, satisfaction tugging at his lips, and his eyes are bright as he looks at you.
The atmosphere feels strangely light and hopeful - as if it’s just the very start of something.
And you’re right - because throughout sophomore and junior year, Mark becomes the one most constant thing in your life. The both of you have changed slightly in your own ways, but the movie nights are still the one thing you look forward to at the end of the week, where your legs are thrown over his lap and whatever takeout you’ve gotten for dinner spread out over the coffee table.
Today is another one of those days, and you wonder how both you and Mark haven’t run out of movies to watch yet - he said something about Avatar today, you think, having sent you a text earlier of the poster.
When you kick off your shoes in the doorway, Mark’s already on the couch, absentmindedly nibbling at the popcorn.
“Starting without me?” you ask, and he shakes his head, handing you your own bowl.
It was another thing that the both of you had agreed on - after all, you liked your popcorn sweet and caramel-flavoured, and while you couldn’t understand how someone liked salty popcorn, well - there was Mark.
Which meant two separate bowls chock-full of the snack, enough to make the both of you happy.
“Mark,” you start, and the man hums in acknowledgement. “You know we have a Disney Plus subscription, right? And Netflix too?”
“Yeah, but the movie just came out like, five days ago. This is pirated.”
“We can just wait for it to be uploaded, then.”
“But I really want to watch it,” he half-pleads and half-whines. “Besides, Hyuck went, and he’ll definitely spoil it.”
You suppose he’s right, but as you lean back, crossing your legs on the couch, you frown. “We’re going to get porn pop-ups every thirty minutes.”
He coughs awkwardly at that, making you grin slightly. It’s strange how shy he gets, considering you’d expect Mark to at least have some experience with girls - or at least not act like the topic of sex is enough to make him embarrassed.
However, he’s still fiddling with the laptop, crouched next to the console, when you poke his side with your foot.
You have a crazy idea. A good one, but crazy nonetheless.
“What if we went to the cinema right now?” you ask, and he blinks at you, stunned.
“Right now? It’s like, one hour to midnight.”
“Yeah. I’m pretty sure they have showings.” You whip out your phone for emphasis, quickly going to the website and letting out a hum of satisfaction when you find it.
“Thirty minutes. We can make it.”
Mark looks at you hesitantly - always having been the less spontaneous one of the both of you. But it’s a Friday, after all, and it’s good, harmless fun.
And you know he really wants to watch the movie, if the way he’s on freemovies123.com and patiently waiting for each risqué ad to disappear is any indication.
“I’ll pay for tickets,” you offer, smiling knowingly when he lights up a little - it’s characteristic of any college student to perk up at the mention of anything free, after all, and you know he’s slowly shifting to a ‘yes’.
It’s barely a few seconds before he shuts his laptop, meeting your gaze. “We should get changed. It’s cold out today.”
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There’s one good thing about having a roommate with a driving license - that it’s not you.
Because while Mark worries about traffic lights and less-than-friendly taxi drivers, you’re staring out the window absentmindedly, enjoying Bruno Major filtering out the speakers.
It had been one thing he wanted - a good sound system, just so the both of you could enjoy your playlists on the road.
Thankfully, the timing means that there’s barely anyone else around as Mark goes down the highway, humming softly to the music.
“I like late-night drives with you,” you chirp, gaze fixed on Mark’s expression as he smiles, face fading in and out of the golden light of the street lamps.
“Any particular reason?”
“You’re a good driver,” you start, and he turns towards you briefly, narrowing his eyes. “You make me sound like an Uber hire.”
“Um-” you lick your lips. “You have good music?” you try, and your best friend lets out a laugh that sounds more like a scoff, shaking his head. “You’re hopeless,” he says, and you immediately lean closer, shaking your head.
“It’s not just that! When you drive, I-” you hesitate, trying to find the exact words. “I feel really safe. I don’t really feel that way with anyone else on the road.”
Mark doesn’t respond for a few moments, but from the way his hands tighten on the wheel, you know he heard every word clearly.
After a while, he finally speaks.
“Is that why you get me to drive you everywhere?” he asks, and you nod slowly, until you see the corners of his mouth turned up in amusement, earning him a punch on the shoulder from you.
“Don’t laugh. I’m serious. Car accidents can do a lot to a person, you know.”
It’s only then that Mark straightens. “Car accident?”
“Yeah,” you hum, fiddling with the volume of the music to turn it down. “Got into one when I was a kid.”
“How bad?”
“Not that bad. I was in the backseat, so there were only a few scrapes. The other car got it worse, honestly.”
You’ve never told anyone else about this, simply because it’s never quite come up. But when you spend so much time with someone like Mark, small snippets of your life come up eventually - like how you know he sprained his ankle once playing soccer, or that he failed art in elementary school but got perfect grades for music.
And when the feeling of his hand settles warmly over yours, you’re yanked out of your thoughts, blankly staring at his fingers winding themselves between your thumb and your index.
It causes heat to flood through you, even though you’re aware the action is meant to be soothing.
When you hear his next words, however, it’s enough to make your heart soften to a dangerous degree - of such unspeakable fondness that only Mark has been able to elicit to some extent.
“I’ll drive you everywhere from now on, okay? Promise,” he smiles softly as he says it, tugging your pinky towards his own before you can even respond to seal the agreement.
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Even when he was a kid, Mark took easily to leadership.
He remembers standing on the podium on his first day on the job as student president, socks cuffed at the perfect length past his ankles, as he delivered his first stuttered-out address to hundreds of middle-schoolers no older than him.
It got easier after that, as he fell into the role more comfortably.
After that, it was chairperson of his high-school music club, helping to compose different pieces for the summer and winter festivals.
Now, in university, he supposes there aren’t really things like student council presidents anymore - everyone is interested in their own lives, and Mark’s not entirely sure he enjoys the entire process of putting himself out there to be judged.
It’s always been the people who made him want to do what he did, and Mark supposes that now his attention is turned to his friends. Reigning in Donghyuck’s more mischievous and unrestrained impulses, preventing Jisung from making the same naive decisions he did at twenty, or getting Jaemin to leave the house to meet his friends and not give in to his natural tendency of isolation - it’s something that he does gladly. Mark would like to think that he knows his friends well, and being the oldest makes him the best-suited to take on the responsibility.
Still, there are times when he likes letting go, not thinking and worrying so hard - most of the time it’s being alone with just his guitar. In those few hours, his brain seems to go perfectly quiet.
Other times, it’s you pulling him into a cinema at midnight, two movie tickets and a brand-new box of popcorn hugged in your arm.
When you halt your footsteps, Mark doesn’t even realise until you’re standing in front of him. If he just angled his face down slightly, the tips of your noses would brush.
“Didn’t you say you really wanted to watch this?” you ask, lashes fluttering, and Mark nods. “Yeah.”
“Then why do you look so sad?” You’re frowning at him, and he has the temptation to smooth out the line in your forehead with his thumb.
“I’m really happy, actually,” he murmurs, and he means it. There’s something about this entire thing that makes him feel more peaceful than he has in a long time. “I was just thinking.”
Thinking about you, to say the least. He didn’t know he could be so comfortable with a person, that spending time felt as easy as breathing.
Thankfully, you don’t question his cryptic words further, only tightening your hold on the tickets. “Let’s walk quicker then. You always complain when we miss the beginning of movies.”
You say it with the easy familiarity of someone who knows him well, and Mark laughs softly. “That’s because you always take too long to get ready.”
“I don’t!”
“You once spent one hour trying to curl your hair, and then decided to leave it straight.”
“That was for your cousin’s wedding. My hair needed to look decent. Besides, I’m the only plus one you have. Who would you ask? Hyuck?”
“Maybe. I’m sure he’d look good in a wig.”
“But your family loves me,” you say smugly, and Mark can’t give a response against that, because you’re right. You’re practically adored by everyone, from his grandparents to even his youngest niece.
“Don’t let it go to your head,” he murmurs, but you only grin. “Can’t help it.”
Eventually, you finally reach the doors of the cinema hall, and Mark pushes the door open, a cold gust of air-conditioning hitting the both of you directly as you make your way down to the seats.
When you shiver, he looks at you disapprovingly. “I thought I told you to wear something warm.”
“A long-sleeved shirt is warm,” you protest, and he huffs, but shrugs off his denim jacket anyways.
“Take it. If you get a flu, I have to take care of you.”
“Thank you,” you say sweetly, quickly wearing it on. “Besides, you owe me one for that time you got stomach flu.”
Mark shivers at the very mention of it. Almost six months ago, and yet he still remembers barely being able to get out of bed. That week, you had come home immediately each time your lectures ended, searching up different websites for recipes that wouldn't upset his stomach. Porridge, soups, stews - Mark was pretty sure you had cycled through hundreds of different ingredients, and blew a complete hole in your allowance deliberately only buying organic, but you resolutely refused to tell him about it until he found you eating instant ramen the next month.
It was equal parts frustrating and endearing - the way you wouldn’t tell anyone about your problems, until you were pestered endlessly. Not so different from him, he supposed, though you took it to an even greater degree.
“Mark, I can hear you thinking. Stop and watch the movie,” you chide, grabbing his upturned palm and placing a handful of popcorn on it.
He turns to see you, profile lit against the bright lights of the screen, as you laugh at some advertisement being shown, eyes bright despite the late hour, and Mark thinks this might become one of his favourite memories with you.
And it does, even when you fall asleep in the car four hours later and he has to carry you up, your arms slung around his neck.
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Mark Lee is showering when he hears a scream.
It’s shrill enough to make him turn off the water, the steam clearing until he sees his own reflection in the glass.
“Y/N? You good?” He asks it loud enough for you to hear, but there isn’t a response.
You’re not a jumpy person, and while you would probably be alright if he just continued his shower, a what if of worry has Mark wrapping a towel around his waist and opening the door.
However, you’re nowhere to be seen in the hallway, and Mark moves to the living room, seeing you backfacing him, a spoon still in your hands and your posture unnaturally defensive.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, and you turn, an expression of abject horror etched on your features.
“There’s a cockroach somewhere. I saw it on the floor, and it’s gone now,” you say in a rush, and Mark laughs.
“Don’t laugh! This is serious,” you say to him, and your roommate only shakes his head. He’s aware of your fear of bugs, though, which is why he takes the spoon from your hands and steers you towards the hallway.
“If you’re that scared, go to your room. I’ll catch it later.”
You nod in agreement. “You still have shampoo in your hair, by the way,” you point out, and he rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, because someone screamed so loud that I thought there was a murderer in our apartment.”
“I think I would have a better chance of surviving anyways,” you bite back, and Mark glances doubtfully at the spoon in your hand, and then back at you.
“Sure, Y/N.”
You wave him off. “Enjoy your shower.”
However, right as Mark places his hand on the door handle, there’s another shriek. He spots the cockroach first, scuttling across the floor, before he sees you barrelling towards him.
“Oh my god!” you shout as you run towards Mark, and his arms reflexively open as you hug him tightly in fear - not entirely registering the fact that he is still very much half-naked.
You’re gripping onto him tightly, face buried into the crook of his neck, and it’s a few seconds before Mark realizes the proximity of your position, every inch of your body warm against his bare skin.
It’s enough to make the tips of his ears flush scarlet, and Mark can’t hear anything other than the aggressive beating of his heart.
“Um, Y/N-” he makes an attempt to start, patting you on the shoulder gently. “Let me go.”
You seem to realise it at the same time he does, quickly stepping back, eyes wide. “Shit, sorry.”
Mark lets out a laugh, even though it comes out choked. “It’s okay. Just- I’ll shower and come right back out, okay?”
“Yeah. That’s a good idea,” you stutter out, all thoughts of the insect forgotten as you backtrack hastily into your room, quickly shutting the door behind you.
Mark stares blankly at the oak wood of your bedroom door, before blinking to clear his head. “Jesus,” he mutters, wondering what the hell just happened.
His body feels warm all over, almost like he’s having a fever, and it’s like he can still feel the sensation of your palms flat against his lower back, your breath tickling the space between his neck and shoulder.
And when he sees his reflection in the mirror, there are two spots of bright red on his cheeks.
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Everything returns to normal after that.
Well, almost.
Other than the fact that Mark can’t seem to stop thinking about you.
It’s bad enough that as his roommate and best friend, you already take up a decently large space of his brain - whether it’s worrying about when you’ll get home once it’s past midnight, or messaging you to ask if you want takeout.
But something about this is a hundred times worse.
Because just the sight of you is enough to have blood rushing to his face, his head darting down to avoid your gaze.
And Mark feels stupid. For God’s sake, he’s not some teenage boy - he’s already twenty-three, and yet he’s acting like a twelve-year-old who just held hands with a girl for the first time.
He’s shared a bed with you. He’s watched you cry after you failed your first exam, tears and snot balled up into countless tissues and filling up the little trashbin in your room. At some point, he had helped to clean up your vomit when you got a bad case of food poisoning.
To be fair, that was because the pancakes he made for breakfast were only half-cooked, so it was sort of his responsibility.
But the fact remains that Mark’s done hundreds of things with you, and spent countless hours by your side - all of which have allowed him to function normally without feeling like his heart is about to combust.
But now, he can’t even sit next to you without his words turning into stuttering chunks of speech.
It doesn’t help that you’re also naturally affectionate, a habit that you picked up from Donghyuck, of all people, and each time you slide your arm into his or wrap a hand around his waist is enough to have his brain short-circuit.
Deep down, Mark has an inkling why he’s like this.
He just really hopes it isn’t true.
It’s not something he’s told anyone, not Chenle, not Renjun, not even Hyuck, who practically knows all of Mark’s deepest, darkest secrets.
That for a minuscule, short duration of three months, Mark had a crush on you. The pretty girl who he collided directly into on the very first day.
There were times when he wondered if the coffee trips could be labelled dates, or if it was a figment of his hyperactive imagination and racing heart. And as the both of you got closer, Mark always teetered between the temptation of trying to ask you out and the fear that he still didn’t know you that well.
Until the both of you got too close as friends, and it was more comfortable to simply stay within the boundaries of friendship. And eventually, Mark put it behind him, seeing those three initial months as nothing more but a simple infatuation that preceded his friendship with you.
And it wasn’t like you had expressed a lot of interest in him either, occasionally complaining to Mark about dates you went on or the newest eye candy that you had seen on campus.
So he let it go, and Mark thought he could be perfectly happy like this.
Until last week, when he was returned to freshman year.
Since then, Mark has been avoiding you with the excuse of coursework, partly for the own good of his heart and also because he doesn’t want to throw you off with his sudden, odd behaviour.
But you know him a little too well, which means that when Friday comes, you’re banging on his bedroom door.
“Mark Lee, I know you’re done with your coursework. Let me in,” you demand, and the man gulps nervously, wishing that he’d bought those noise-cancelling headphones so he could at least use them as an excuse.
He sidles towards the door reluctantly, feet dragging even as little pinpricks of excitement jab at his heart - a sensation he’s quickly come to associate with you.
“Hey. Um, you need anything?” he asks, voice tight with nervousness.
“I need to know why my best friend’s avoiding me like the plague,” you say without hesitating, slipping in through the small space between his body and the door before he can kick you out.
“i’m not avoiding you. I’m just really busy,” Mark lies. “Like, with school and stuff.”
God, it sounds bad even to his ears.
“I hope you know I didn’t believe that for a second,” you say, walking to his desk and looking directly at his completely-shut laptop.
“I-” Mark’s throat feels dry as you abruptly turn towards him, cutting across the room and facing him directly, hands squared on your hips as you tilt your head.
“Did you commit a crime? I know how to hide a body, you know.”
“…No?”
“Forgot to pay rent? Left the stove on? Or-”
“It’s none of that!” He says, hands instinctively reaching for your shoulders to halt you from listing any other potential transgressions he might have made.
And when you meet his eyes again, you look properly frustrated, before you seem to sink slightly, voice turning a little softer.
“Did I do something…wrong? You can tell me, you know.” You blink up at him slowly, and Mark’s heart feels bittersweet as he sees the slight worry in your gaze.
“No. Of course not.” Guilt rises in his stomach - of course his standoffish behaviour would make you think the worst. ‘’It’s none of that.”
Mark wishes that he could kick his feelings to the side and shove them far down, if only to make the doubt in your features go away. Considering that it’s you he has these feelings for, however, makes the task seem near impossible, but Mark thinks it doesn’t hurt to try.
So he smiles, bright enough to make you relax a little. “It’s really just school. I realised I actually need to do well to graduate, and I didn’t want my stress to get to you.”
At his words, your eyes glaze over with a familiar, warm empathy, and Mark tries not to let his relief become too palpable. “I get it. But, Mark-”
“Hm?”
“You can come to me for these sorts of things, you know? When you’re stressed. I want to be that person for you.”
What you’re saying is simple- expected, even, considering the nature of your relationship with him, but it still knocks the breath out of Mark.
He’s loved by you. That much is clear, even if it’s not exactly in the way he so desperately wishes to be loved by you. But even this is enough.
“Okay. Yeah, I will,” he promises, realising that he doesn’t hate the bittersweet feeling in his heart that is already so closely associated with you - not when it’s constantly soothed by the quiet happiness of having you by his side.
“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” You loop your arm in his, pulling him out of the room. “Since that’s resolved, no more hiding in your room.”
“But-”
“No buts. We study here from now on. you’re not the only one with exams, you know,” you say as you bring your books and laptop out, scattering them across the dining table.
Mark can tell when you’ve set your mind on something, and so he doesn’t resist, placing his own things opposite you and welcoming it when you smile in approval.
For a while, he sits there blankly - he wasn’t even studying in the first place, after all, and he’s already well-prepared for his technical exam next week, but he’s pulled out of his thoughts when you call his name expectantly.
You’ve already made yourself comfortable by the window, your headphones resting snugly around your ears as you tilt your head at him, eyes bright.
You look pretty, as always.
But Mark’s almost-adoring gaze is left unnoticed by you as you frown at him. Study, you mouth, picking up your textbook and pointing to it for emphasis in a way that makes a laugh bubble out his chest.
It’s cute. You’re cute.
If he doesn’t do as you say, however, Mark’s cover will genuinely be busted, and so the man genuinely tries to immerse himself in revision for his readings as best as he can.
And if he occasionally sneaks glances just to admire you in the golden glow of dusk that spills through the window - well, it didn’t happen if you didn’t catch him, did it?
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You’re standing in the kitchen when you hear Mark’s bedroom door open, and a soft yawn from the hallway.
“Morning. I made toast, and Chenle gave us a new bottle of jam the other day,” you say, pushing a plate across the counter.
“Thanks,” he says, voice still rough from sleep and eyes only half-open as he munches absentmindedly at the first piece of bread he picks up.
He’s always the sleepiest on Thursday mornings, mainly because the lectures are first thing in the morning and on the furthest side of the campus. And considering how much of a night owl Mark is, waking up anytime before ten is practically punishment for him.
Meanwhile, you’re perfectly chirpy, already having gotten your first coffee of the day down and your usual omelette slowly cooking away in the pan.
“You know, Donghyuck suggested doing a trip during winter break,” you say, and Mark hums in agreement, thinking it over. “To where?”
“Out of the city. Maybe to the beach. I think it would be fun.”
“Are you going to plan it, then?” he asks, and you nod excitedly. You’ve always had a penchant for travelling, and maybe it’s because of your course in early education - you’re already used to organizing different programmes.
“I was thinking we would do a barbecue, and then maybe just some games and karaoke. Though I’m sure some of the guys want to go biking, and I think Yeji mentioned doing a pottery class or checking out local markets.” You ramble out all your ideas in a rush, but Mark only nods at your every word.
“I’m sure we can figure something out.”
“We just need to find a house big enough for all twelve of us- ouch!” Your sentence is cut off by a sharp exclamation of pain as you pull your hand back, an unsightly red patch already forming on the area between your index and thumb.
You hadn’t even realised you had gotten that close to the stove when you turned around to speak to Mark. It’s not your first time getting burned - you had accidentally brushed your arm against the top of your oven when you were sixteen, but the pain is enough to make you wince in alarm.
Still, it’s tolerable as you rush to the sink and turn on the cold water, Mark materializing by your side within seconds.
“You okay?” he asks, now fully-awake as he grabs your wrist, turning it over gently to inspect the injury.
“Yeah.” You shake your head. “Small mistake. I’ll manage it.”
You turn off the tap, planning to get some ice, but Mark’s faster than you. “Take this. I’ll get the antiseptic cream.”
“I can handle it. You should get ready for class,” you urge, but he shakes his head, already disappearing down the hallway.
When he reappears, the small white tube is in his hands, and Mark motions for you to place your hand in his. “This might hurt a little,” he murmurs, blinking up at you through his lashes, and you nod.
“Wouldn’t have thought.”
You don’t get to make another wisecrack, however, the moment his thumb brushes over the wound. Mark’s gentle, dabbing at it as softly as possible, but your breathing still tightens.
Eventually, the sting gets a little more bearable, and you watch as the reddish patch fades to a less angry tone. “Done,” Mark says, quickly smoothing a plaster over it. “Don’t let it get near water, and don’t let it get dirty.”
“Got it, dad.” He rolls his eyes at that and you nudge his shoulder. “You really should go for class now.”
“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” he asks, eyes wide, and the concern that’s evident in Mark’s eyes makes your heart flutter warmly. “It’s just a burn, Mark. The next time I break my leg, I’ll make you carry me around for a month.”
He frowns. “Don’t say that. I don’t want you to break a leg.”
“I’ll be careful, I promise. Look, if you’re that worried-” you stretch your hand out to him, palm facing the ceiling as you grin. “-you can kiss it better.”
The request is a teasing one, one that you expect to turn Mark the colour of a tomato - after all, he’s made shy easily, and always embarrassed at things like this.
Yet, what you don’t expect is the immediate feeling of the boy’s lips against your skin, no hesitation on his part as he places the gentlest of kisses at the corner between your thumb and your index.
You freeze. There’s no way Mark just did that.
There’s no way the same person who would shove you away when you attempted to place a kiss on his cheek, nervously sputtering, or the one who jerked away the first time you tried to hug him, is now smiling up at you in a way that could be seen as almost cocky, eyes blinking innocently up at you.
“Better?” he asks lowly, placing another kiss for emphasis in a way that makes your heart go haywire.
Your throat feels dry when you make an attempt to reply to him. “Yeah. All better,” you force out, quickly retracting your hand and shoving it into the pocket of your sweatpants. Far away from boys who think it’s a good idea to kiss it and make your mind go blank.
“Well, I’m going, then,” he says, now finally having the familiar lopsided grin that you’re used to - despite that, however, your heart lurches with fondness as you watch him grab his bag and hoodie before waving at you.
“Bye,” you exhale out, hands unconsciously finding the cool marble of the countertop in a quest for stability, until the door finally shuts.
You’re faced with an empty hallway, finally, as you attempt to process the events of the past fifteen minutes, the pain of the burn now an afterthought.
What the fuck just happened?
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Mark thinks he might be going insane.
Completely, veritably insane.
Kissing your hand was an impulse decision - mainly because he wanted to get back at you for making those flirtatious remarks all the damn time without any idea of how they messed with his head.
But part of it was also because you had asked so sweetly, and Mark found himself quite incapable of refusing you. And the two spots of pink that had dusted your cheeks after were worth it.
However, it seems that he’s suffering much more than you are - what with the events of the past week. It’s as if he can’t help but notice the smallest, most insignificant things about you, that are enough to make him fall a little deeper, a little further down to where it’s harder to get out.
Like how you hum to yourself when you water the plants on the windowsill, and it’s always that one song - the one that your dad played for you as a kid, and which you added into Mark’s playlist without him knowing. Or how Mark always leaves his guitar all over the house, but you make sure to return it to its usual spot next to his bed.
Even worse, you’re always leaning your head on his shoulder, or reaching out to fiddle with the strings of his hoodie. It feels good being close to you - Mark loves it, in fact, but it also makes him terribly nervous in a way that makes him stiffen awkwardly whenever you brush a little too close to him.
Now, however, Mark realises he might be the one on the losing end as he sits in his Structural Analysis lecture and wonders what it would be like to actually kiss you.
His pen is spinning in his hands - he hasn’t written down a single thing in the past thirty minutes, and Mr Lee’s already sending him suspicious glances from across the room, but Mark has mostly been a model student for the past two years, which is why he supposes his lecturer bites his tongue.
Still, he can’t keep going like this. Not when he feels like his heart is constantly about to burst out of his chest, and he has to physically stop himself from spinning you by the waist and planting his lips firmly on yours.
Of course, he’d never do that unless you gave any indication that you wanted it, but it’s hard. It’s hard to have you so close and yet completely out of Mark’s reach.
As a child, he would stand at the seashore, feet half-buried in the sand as he looked out to the glittering blue expanse of sea, and the horizon that lay beyond. There was always something about the warm orange hues and pink streaks that took his breath away, so beautiful that he wanted to swim towards it endlessly.
You’re his horizon now, a thousand gorgeous sunsets contained in a single person and enough to make Mark feel like he’s living and dying all at once.
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The next week, you’re sitting on the couch scrolling on your phone when Mark’s footsteps alert you to his presence.
Right as you lift your head to see him, however, you frown. “Why are you dressed like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like…you’re going to work out. Or something,” you reply, giving him a once-over. Joggers, a dry-fit shirt and track shoes, complete with a water bottle in his hands - something’s definitely up.
“That’s because I am,” he answers, an amused tilt of his lips evident as he takes in the surprise on your face.
“No way. I tried getting you to do that fitness program in freshman year, and you said you’d rather die than exercise.”
“That was because I can’t do yoga for shit. I’m going to the gym with Jeno today.”
At the mention of the other boy, you nod, slowly processing the information. It makes sense that Jeno would drag him to the gym, considering the boy has long made a habit of it with Jaemin. But still, the fact that Mark agreed makes you narrow your eyes.
“Why the sudden interest, though?” you ask, turning over to rest your head on the couch and stretch out your legs.
Mark only shrugs, slinging his towel over his shoulder. “Finally found the time. Besides, seniors get free access. If you didn’t notice, I’ve been going with Jeno since the start of the year.”
It’s currently June, which means six months. Though it’s likely that you probably couldn’t make the distinction between when he was going to the gym or lessons, because Mark perpetually lived in sweatpants and a hoodie.
“Fair enough. Have fun,” you call, tugging a pillow to hug to your body as you find a new social media site to scroll through.
However, you find your eyes drifting to Mark as he fills his bottle at the sink, carefully scrutinising your best friend for any evident changes.
You suppose his shoulders have broadened considerably since freshman year, jawline a little more defined than the round-cheeked boy you first met. Nothing out of the ordinary - plenty of the same changes had happened to the other boys, and it wasn’t as if you hadn’t made changes to your own appearance over the many years.
However, Mark’s usually dressed in the baggiest of sweaters and hoodies, only changing into a fitted shirt today due to the warm summer weather, and your cheeks redden when you find your eyes drifting to the way the muscles in his back stretch when he reaches for something on the upper shelf, a faint line appearing on his forearms as he unscrews the cap and adds his vitamins inside.
He looks good. Better than he should. You don’t even realize you’re shamelessly ogling your best friend until he looks up at you, eyes directly meeting yours in a way that makes you jump.
“Everything okay?” he asks, and you nod slowly, forcing your eyes away from anything but the way his collarbones peek out from beneath his shirt.
This is Mark. Your roommate, who you most definitely shouldn’t stare at in a borderline-creepy way. no matter how attractive he may seem.
Thankfully, you regain your senses quickly enough, darting your head back down until it’s half-veiled by the pillow. “Get a grip, Y/N,” you mutter to yourself.
“Well, I’m gonna go,” Mark calls, and you physically stop yourself from looking up, instead choosing to extend your arm upwards to wave.
“Bye! Go!” you say with no little urgency, sensing Mark’s palpable confusion from your bizarre confusion a few metres away.
Nevertheless, he grabs his things, the door eventually closing shut.
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It’s halfway through his last set that Jeno appears above Mark, a bottle of ice-cold water in his hands.
“Thanks,” he says as he sits up from the bench press, quickly taking a large gulp. “What are you doing after this?”
“Giselle asked me to grab dinner with her.”
At his words, Mark grins, nudging Jeno’s knee. “Do the both of you have something going on?”
Jeno only huffs, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “We’re just friends. Don’t overthink it. You and Y/N, on the other hand…”
The mention of your name is enough to make Mark cough awkwardly, gaze darting away. And while Jeno doesn’t say anything, it’s Jaemin who’s perceptive as ever, a teasing smile on his face as he meets Mark’s nervous gaze.
“Out with it. What’s up with the both of you?” he asks curiously.
“Um,” Mark coughs, swiping off the beads of sweat that seem to have mysteriously materialized at his temples. “Nothing.”
It’s as honest of a reply that he can give, because there really isn’t much for Mark to say. While Mark freaks out inside each time you say something, life seems to be going on normally for you.
Jeno hums. “Doesn’t seem like nothing.”
Frustration bubbles up in Mark at those words, though it’s not directed at Jaemin or Jeno, but instead at himself.
“I mean, I like her-”
“I knew it,” Jaemin declares, crossing his arms over his chest. “Took you long enough.”
Mark leans back, chuckling softly. “Just realised it myself a few days ago, honestly.”
It wasn’t as if Mark hadn’t had a crush on anyone before - rather, it was that being with you felt slightly different from the rest. The butterflies aside, there was something else that tugged at the pit of his stomach each time he thought about you. It was akin to the split-second adrenaline he felt on top of rollercoasters, just before it came tumbling straight down.
And he wasn’t sure what to make of that. Mark thought a better word to describe his affection for you was yearning, rather than just a simple like. Like didn’t seem to quite explain how being in your presence never quite tired him out, how you were the one person that Mark didn’t need a social battery for. He was simply so used to you at this point, that having you around felt natural, felt right.
“He’s definitely in love. Look at him,” Jaemin whispers to his dormmate, just out of Mark’s earshot. Jeno’s eyes only crinkle slightly, as he shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter if he won’t do anything about it.”
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The first time someone called Donghyuck a himbo was sophomore year.
He had sat next to Shin Ryujin, hungover from the night before, and it took him a full fifteen minutes to realise that he did indeed have an assignment due that day, one which his professor was currently collecting.
Naturally, he did what any desperate student would do - he turned to Ryujin and asked very nicely if he could borrow her work, to which she had only ignored him and turned back to her own laptop.
“It’s a creative assignment. Mrs Park’s not going to scroll through two identical assignments without busting your ass.”
“I could change some of the grammar,” Donghyuck offers helpfully, but the glare that she flashes him makes him shrink back.
“Just ask her for an extension.”
“I’m scared.”
“You’re already known as the campus himbo. What do you have to be scared of?”
“A himbo?” Donghyuck tilts his head. He hasn’t heard anyone describe him as a himbo yet, though he’s received things like idiot, annoying asshole, dumbass motherfu- most of them from Mark, but he doesn’t quite mention that to Shin Ryujin.
“It means you’re pretty to look at, but you’ve got nothing inside your head.”
Donghyuck grins. “You think I’m pretty?” he asks, batting his eyelashes for dramatic effect, and Ryujin rolls her eyes. “Even if you were pretty, your personality ruins it.”
“Hey!”
“I’m right, Donghyuck. You’re a daily reminder to me why I’m better off liking women,” she shoots, and he feels genuinely wounded at that.
“You just like women because you think Yeji’s pretty-” Donghyuck’s voice is muffled by Ryujin’s hand over his mouth, her gaze wide with alarm.
“She’s right there, Donghyuck. Mouth shut, or I’ll kill you,” she whispers harshly, eyes darting nervously to the girl she’s had a not-so-secret crush on for the longest time, before turning back to Donghyuck, who nods obediently.
“You should just tell her,” he advises, and Ryujin purses her lips, before shaking her head. “No. For one, I’m not sure if she likes women at all, and two - even if she did, I might not be her type.”
“Well, you can try.”
“And get rejected? No thanks,” she replies, closing the tabs on her laptop. “Besides, you shouldn’t been giving me advice. You would barely know if someone liked you back.”
Donghyuck supposes Ryujin was right then - he’s quite oblivious to cues, and God knows the number of girls that have confessed to him while he blinked at them cluelessly. It’s not his fault that he’s on the affectionate side, and Donghyuck is affectionate with everyone.
But now, this is different. This doesn’t involve him, and Donghyuck would like to think that he’s at least quite perceptive to a shift in two of his closest friends.
It doesn’t take him long to figure out why exactly Mark seems so skittish in your presence, or why you seem so tightly wound-up, like a spring about to snap.
The both of you have the largest, most embarrassing crushes on each other, and are somehow simultaneously oblivious to it.
And so, like every other normal, rational person, Donghyuck invites everyone except you and Mark to lunch to discuss his findings.
“What the fuck?” Renjun’s the first one to say something, staring at Donghyuck as if he’s grown a second head.
“Look, just trust me on this-”
“Are you sure about this?” Jaemin asks, taking a large sip of his drink, and Donghyuck nods earnestly, a serious expression on his face. “A hundred percent.”
“To be fair to him, we did all think they were going to date in the first year. I guess it’s finally happening.”
“Men and women can have platonic relationships, you know. Just because you have never enjoyed female friendship in your life doesn’t mean it’s impossible,” Ryujin points out to Jeno, who rolls his eyes.
“You thought they were dating too, Shin.”
“Fine,” she acquiesces, finally turning to Donghyuck and staring him down in a way that makes the male have to consciously bite back a shiver. “What do you plan to do about it?”
“That’s why I called you guys here.”
“You want us to help you figure out how to get your two best friends together?”
“They’re your friends too!”
“I say we lock them in a room until they kiss,” Chenle says, and like clockwork, Jisung turns to him, a look of horror on his face. “You can’t do that to people!”
But Chenle’s not looking at his best friend - no, he’s looking at Donghyuck, a silent challenge in his gaze.
It’s only then that Donghyuck sits up, posture changing enough to draw the eyes of everyone at the table - Karina, Yeji, Ryujin, Jeno, Chenle, Jisung, Jaemin and Renjun.
“You know what?” he says, a mischievous smile curling at the corner of his lips. “I don’t think that’s a bad idea.”
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You’re halfway through your work when you hear a few rapid knocks at the door.
“Coming!” you shout, frowning - Mark’s out late tonight.
Until you look through the peephole, and you’re greeted by the sight of Jaemin’s face. “Oh, hey,” you say as you open the door. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m not sure, honestly. I brought them, though.” He points his arm, and you turn, eyes widening.
“He helped with directions,” Donghyuck explains, already shrugging off his shoes and letting himself into your apartment.
“What- why’s everyone here today?” You naturally move to the side as all eight of them slowly amble in, completely bewildered.
“Impromptu party. Jeno’s boss gave him some free pizza delivery vouchers,” Yeji explains, smiling sweetly at you, and despite the suddenness of it, you can’t quite say no - you do miss having them around, and you can probably catch up on your work over the weekend.
“Okay. Mark won’t be back till nine, though.” At your words, there seems to be a general sense of amusement rising from everyone else, which is only enough to confuse you further.
However, you’re grateful for their appearance. You don’t think you could last another movie night with Mark without doing something extremely, extremely stupid.
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At eight, Mark reaches his front door, only for it to be opened before he can even reach for his keys.
And instead of you, there’s Jisung, who only waves. “Hi, hyung.”
“What are you doing here?” Mark asks, until he hears the sound of commotion inside - there’s music playing, and Donghyuck trying to explain something loudly before your laughter cuts through.
“Jeno bought all of us pizza. You should be hungry,” Jisung says, smiling, and Mark only follows the younger boy inside, greeted by the sight of everyone else scattered across the living room floor.
“Mark!” Jaemin shouts excitedly, and he realises the boy is already half-drunk as he motions to the multiple pizza boxes. “Take as much as you want. Can’t finish.”
And as Mark grabs the pizza and makes his way over to where you’re seated by the couch, you smile up at him in a way that makes it impossible for him to grin back. “You’re here,” you say softly, cheeks already slightly reddened by the alcohol.
He laughs slightly. “Are you drunk already?”
You shake your head. “I only drank a little.” You pinch your fingers together for emphasis.
“Okay. Go easy on it,” he says, and you pout slightly. “Got it.”
“Since Mark’s here already, we should all play a game,” Chenle suggests, and Mark looks up, eyes widening when he sees everyone nod. “Suddenly?”
“How about truth or dare?” Ryujin asks.
“No, that’s too boring. Wait, Mark, come here,” Donghyuck says from the opposite side of the room, pushing Jisung slightly to make space for him in the middle, but Mark shakes his head.
“I’m okay here.” Besides, he wants to make sure you don’t drink as much.
“Just come here. Yeji has something she needs to tell Y/N.” At that, Mark turns to the black-haired girl, a suspicious glance in his eyes.
“Oh yeah, totally,” she says, grinning back, and motions for Mark to move. “Girls only, Mark. I know you’re Y/N’s best friend, but some exceptions can’t be made.”
Everyone’s waiting, which means Mark eventually rises from where he’s standing. “Okay. Make sure she doesn’t drink too much, okay?” he asks, and she nods.
When Mark’s finally cross-legged on the floor, Donghyuck clasps his hands together, a grin on his face. “Let’s do seven minutes in heaven. Jeno, spin that bottle.”
Mark turns to his best friend, nudging him. “What are we, in high school?”
“We’re not, which is why I wanna play this. Also, everyone here at least knows each other. so it’s more fun.”
There’s silence in the room as the soju bottle spins in slow rounds, before it finally drifts to a stop - one that has Donghyuck giggling and Ryujin’s cheeks reddening.
“Ryujin and Yeji. First room on the right, now,” he instructs, and the two girls rise, disappearing down the hallway and already lost in their own conversation.
“Next one. I wanna spin this,” Chenle says, exchanging an odd, knowing sort of look with Hyuck, who only motions for him to go ahead.
Mark’s honestly only half-focused on the game, more worried about he’s going to clean up later and whether any of them will be staying over. Eventually, however, his gaze drifts to the floor, watching as the bottle comes to a perfect stop.
Facing you directly.
Yeji’s gone and you’re the only one sitting on the right side of the couch, which makes you the obvious choice.
The other side is a little more ambiguous, however. It’s between him and Hyuck, who looks a little too excited. “Well, so who’s going to go with me?” you ask, and everyone else seems to be unsure of what to say.
“I mean, I don’t mind,” Donghyuck says teasingly, winking at you in a way that makes Mark stiffen.
There’s no way Hyuck likes you, right? That all this was just some sort of grand, elaborated scheme to get closer to you-
You fell for her too, idiot, his mind immediately rattles off, and it’s enough for Mark to stand up, immediately clearing his throat. “I’ll go. The empty room left is mine anyways.”
He misses the way his best friend smiles triumphantly at Chenle, immediately moving closer to you as you stand up. “Seven minutes, right?” you ask, and Hyuck nods. “No more, no less.”
Mark’s not sure why he’s strangely nervous as he follows you into the room, considering he’s pretty sure that nothing will happen anyways. After all, the both of you practically live together, and he’s no stranger to spending time alone with you.
Though, in the wake of his new feelings, even simple interactions feel difficult.
And as you lie down on the side of his bed, legs dangling off the edge, Mark regrets his decision just a little. Until you lift your head up.
“Why are you standing there? Come here.” You pat the empty space next to you, and as if pulled by some mysterious force, he gravitates towards you, hesitantly sitting next to your knees and slowly lying down next to you.
“I wonder what Hyuck would say if he found us like this,” you say, and despite himself, Mark laughs. “We would get scolded.”
“He’d probably ask us to do something, at least.”
Mark’s cheeks redden as he wonders what exactly you mean by something, and he’s not sure if your straightforwardness is partly due to the alcohol. “Like what?”
“I don’t know. Kiss, probably.”
He sucks in a breath, turning to you. But your profile remains sideways, eyes fixed on the ceiling. And he’s not sure where he finds the words, but Mark’s voice is strained the next time he speaks, tight with desire and fear.
“Do you- do you want to?”
You turn to him, pretty irises deep enough for Mark to willingly, gladly drown in.
God, you’re gorgeous. He’s so painfully in love with you that it almost hurts to breathe, little pinpricks of affection stabbing at what space remaining in his heart that’s still left untaken by you.
“I wouldn’t mind, I think,” you murmur, blinking sleepily at him as you shuffle a little bit closer, until your head’s resting against his chest, and Mark wonders if you can hear his heartbeat going faster than it ever has.
You wouldn’t mind kissing him. It’s not a direct expression of want, but if you’re amenable to the idea, that’s already more than he could ever expect.
You’re so close, and you smell so good, like that vanilla and cinnamon shampoo that you always use, and if he just tilted your head a little higher - he would have everything that he’s dreaming of.
But you’re drunk, and he’s not entirely sober either, which means bad decisions are likely to be made. When Mark kisses you, he wants it to be when both of you are fully awake, so he can remember every single moment of it.
And the feeling of you resting against him, eyes closed and breathing even, isn’t so bad either - it’s sweet, providing him with the knowledge that you feel safe enough to be your most vulnerable around him, because Mark just wants to protect you and love you in all the ways that he can. If you’ll let him.
And that’s how Donghyuck finds him when he cracks open the bedroom door, Mark immediately bringing a finger to his lips to keep his volume down.
“Um, I’ll tell everyone to clean up and leave. You can stay with Y/N,” Hyuck murmurs, and Mark’s grateful for the sensibility that his best friend does have, after all.
It’s about twenty minutes later that he finally hears the front door swing shut, and the house finally falls into some much-needed silence.
“Y/N,” he whispers softly, hoping to wake you up without startling you. “Darling, you’ll be uncomfortable if you sleep like this.”
He’s not sure where the pet name slips out from, but it comes out surprisingly easily. And while Mark would be perfectly happy to stay in this position, it’s likely going to give you a poor neck tomorrow.
Thankfully, you seem to hear him, mumbling something incoherent as you slowly sit up, still drowsy as he leads you to the bed. You find the pillow quickly, and he breathes out a sigh of relief when you seem to sink back into your slumber.
“Good night, Y/N,” he mumbles tenderly, a hand brushing over your forehead.
And when he finally lies down on the other side, blanket thrown over the both of you, Mark wills sleep to find him quickly. There’s too much on his mind tonight.
At some point, however, you shift, turning your body to face him and making his breathing hitch.
You’re always so damn close.
And then you say something again under your breath, soft enough for Mark to have to lean closer until your lips are right by his ear.
“Y/N? Do you need something?” It’s obvious you’re still asleep, maybe stuck in a dream of sorts as you furrow your eyebrows.
When you speak next, however, it’s loud enough for Mark to hear every syllable.
“You don’t want to kiss me,” you breathe out, an expression of distress making its way onto your features. “Why not?” Your lips soften into a pout that makes his heart seize, and Mark’s eyes widen.
Are you talking about him? From earlier?
He’s frozen now, fingers ghosting over your waist as he wonders how to react.
Eventually, Mark allows himself to press a tender kiss to your forehead, smoothing out the slight furrow there as he brushes his thumb over your cheek.
The bed, even the entire room, suddenly feels a little too small, and a little too warm as Mark keeps looking at you, wondering exactly what this means for him, you, and your friendship.
If everything he’s ever wanted is a mistake, and whether you’d make it with him. Because he doesn’t think any mistake should feel this right.
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When you wake up the next morning, you can’t exactly distinguish between what was part of your dream, and what was actually a hazy recollection.
And neither is Mark present to confirm your doubts. It’s like he’s disappeared off the face of the earth - well, probably just the campus.
Still, when you see an empty bed, the sheets on the side flat and crinkled, there’s a yearning in your heart that you can’t quite place. You swing your feet over the edge, your head still vaguely throbbing from the alcohol as you try to distinguish reality from your own eager imagination.
You like Mark. That much is easy enough to figure out, if the way you clung to him last night was any indication. You faintly remember him persuading you to go to bed, and tugging a sweater over your shirt.
And then you had turned over - heart racing in your chest as you voluntarily moved closer to him, seeking his warmth and relaxing when he didn’t pull away.
His bed smelled a lot like him, all fresh cotton and fabric softener. A familiar scent that you had grown used to over the years, from stealing his jackets to hugging him whenever he pulled you close, your head nestled into the crook of his shoulder.
You’re conflicted as you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, fingers curling into the material of the sweater as if it’ll make up for the owner’s absence.
Maybe he liked you. Maybe he didn’t. You would get some answers once he came back, at least.
Unfortunately, you’re in the middle of brushing your teeth when you hear the front door unlock, and you suppose the universe has other plans for you as you shuffle out into the living room.
And as if you still needed the reminder, your pulse speeds up at the sight of Mark in his hoodie and black glasses, plates already in his hands as he places them on the table. “Hey, um, I got breakfast. Figured you’d be hungry,” he explains.
You’re just staring at him, lingering in the hallway long enough for Mark to scratch the back of his head awkwardly. “Hey, if you don’t feel like eating-”
“I do.” It comes out panicked as you rush over, taking the cutlery from him and the first pastry you see. “Thanks, Mark.”
“No problem,” he says, still smiling at you as you take your first bite, occasionally meeting his eyes before your gaze darts away again.
God, this is awkward. You haven’t been this awkward with him since- well, ever. Even eighteen-year-old you had no problem making conversation with him, but now you’re completely silent as the both of you share a meal.
You’re in the middle of counting the number of cross-stitches in the tablecloth when he finally speaks.
“How’s your head feeling?”
“It’s okay.”
“Donghyuck and the others left pretty early yesterday.”
“Yeah.”
“They cleaned up, though.”
“That’s good.”
You can almost sense the frustration radiating off Mark at your replies, but you’re not sure what else to say to him.
Or more that you’re scared of what will come out if you do let yourself speak.
“Y/N,” he murmurs, noticeably more serious now, and you gulp.
“Mark.”
“Can we talk about yesterday?” he asks, gently, and you lift your head sharply, fork frozen in midair.
“What- what happened yesterday?”
“You don’t remember?”
“I-” you cut yourself off halfway, cheeks turning scarlet as you duck your head down to look at your own lap.
It’s as much of a guilty admission that he needs, even as you attempt to get yourself out of the situation by standing up and pushing your chair behind you. “I’m done with my breakfast. I’ll go get ready.”
“You’re going out?”
“I told Ryujin that I would meet her for lunch,” you lie, though you wince the moment it leaves your mouth.
For one, it’s ten in the morning, and Ryujin’s probably just as hungover as you.
You barely put your plate down in the sink before you hear Mark get up as well, and you turn your head away, cursing silently under your breath. It’s times like this when you wish your apartment was bigger, that Mark couldn’t be capable of finding you in less than two minutes.
He doesn’t say anything, almost hovering as he clears his plate away too, and places the rest of the pastries in the fridge.
You can’t help but notice that they’re all your favourites, the kind of snacks that you always tell him you crave but never have conveniently at home.
The moment you’re done washing the dishes, however, you quickly dry your hands, making a beeline out of the kitchen area. If you just manage to get to your room, you’ll at least be able to avoid him for a while longer.
And for a few moments, you think that Mark will let you go and leave the events of last night aside for now.
In fact, you almost make it past him and the kitchen island, before he grabs onto your wrist and yanks you back.
“What-” You tilt your head up sharply in shock, freezing when you realize exactly how close the both of you are. The tip of his nose is barely centimetres away from yours, and your lack of balance has you almost leaning fully into him, the weight of your body pressed up against his.
You’re still reeling from it as you blink up at him, finding a way to get your senses back around you, even as your brain fills with empty thoughts about how he looks good up close like this, or how his lashes frame his features perfectly.
It’s a dangerous situation. One that you need to get out of immediately.
“Mark-” you start, his name coming out breathy and stilted, but the boy remains silent, lips set into a firm line as he continues looking at you, or past you, as if he's thinking of something else entirely. “Let me go?”
You move your wrist for emphasis, but in response, his grip only tightens.
“No,” he murmurs, in a way that makes butterflies flutter in your stomach.
“But-”
You’re cut off soon enough when he moves even closer, the distance between the both of you disappearing.
Because instead of releasing your hand, Mark only wraps his other arm around your waist to yank you closer before he plants his lips firmly on yours.
And then he’s kissing you.
Mark Lee, your best friend and roommate of four years, is kissing you in your shared apartment at ten in the morning, and you can’t help but feel like this is how it’s always meant to have been.
And as you feel yourself melting into his hold, that same scent of fresh cotton enveloping you, he pulls away. Kissing shouldn’t feel this good, but with him, you think the seconds could easily elapse into hours.
You’re almost tempted to pull him by the collar back to you, but something in his eyes curbs that impulse of yours.
His hand is still resting on your waist, ghosting over the patch of bare skin between your sweatpants and top in a way that makes you shiver.
“You asked me why I didn’t want to kiss you yesterday,” he breathes out. “Does this make up for it?”
So that wasn’t a dream, at least.
You scramble to find a way to reply, still a little too distracted by the way his lips are the perfect shade of pink, the phantom feeling of them quickly fading from your memory. “I- I think so.”
He smiles at that. “You think?”
“I could do with a refresher.” The sudden confidence that enters your voice is just as surprising to you as it is to Mark himself, but he recovers faster. The hand that was previously around your wrist snakes its way up to your chin, tilting your face upwards. “Yeah?”
You nod, deciding that you’re already too far gone- you might as well get something out of it.
Like the feeling of Mark’s lips against yours when he kisses you again, smiling against you in a way that makes your heart expand in the most delightful way.
When he nips at your bottom lip playfully, you let out a soft giggle, ducking your head away from his as he moves towards your cheek, and then your neck, leaving a trail of feather-soft kisses in his wake.
“That feels nice,” you sigh out, feeling him smirk against where he’s nestled at the juncture of your shoulder and neck. “Just nice?”
“Very nice. Happy now?” You tap his shoulders to get him to raise his head, Mark’s hands instinctively finding your waist.
He hums. “I suppose. What does this make us?”
And as much as he tries to pass it off nonchalantly, you hear the way his voice tapers off into doubt.
That he’s had the same fear as you for a while now, but also the exact same dream.
“Do you like me?” you ask, and Mark swipes his tongue over his lips, chuckling softly. “I thought that much was obvious.”
“Well, then I guess it’s a good thing that I like you too.” You fiddle with the drawstrings of his hoodie as Mark’s eyes widen. To his credit, he looks surprised, but it only makes you laugh. “You seriously think I would kiss you if I didn’t like you?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure-” his words halt when you tiptoe to press a kiss on his cheek.
“I like you, Mark Lee. Even if you can’t cook eggs and always mess up my laundry. And I know you’re already my best friend and roommate, but will you be willing to take up another title now?”
“What title?’ he asks, blinking confusedly at you, and you only grin. “My boyfriend,” you whisper into his ear, pulling back to see that familiar shade of red making its way onto his cheeks.
Eventually, he nods. “Yeah. Okay. I can do that.”
But you only frown. “You took so long to reply. I’m starting to think you don’t want it anymore.”
Mark only rolls his eyes, arms tightening their hug around your waist.
“Too bad. There’s no getting rid of me now.”
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Funnily enough, the hardest part of being in a relationship with Mark was figuring out how to tell everyone else without being made the subject of their endless teasing for the next foreseeable few months.
Especially Donghyuck. Both you and Mark agreed that the chestnut-haired boy would be the last to find out.
Everything else was the same. The both of you always ate together, Mark often picking you up after lessons with a take-out bag already in his hands.
Except that he was now yours to kiss and hold, which was a new privilege you gladly took advantage of, especially on occasions like this.
“I say we let them find out on their own. It’s worse if we tell them directly, like it’s some sort of big announcement,” you say, fingers absentmindedly carding their way through Mark’s hair as he hugs you close to him. You’re leaning against the couch, legs thrown over his as you rest on his lap sideways.
He only raises a bemused eyebrow. “You don’t think our relationship is a big thing?”
“We both know that’s not what I mean,” you mutter, swatting his shoulder. “I just think they’ve known us as best friends for so long, that it’ll be weird to just suddenly drop this out of nowhere.”
“I get it. We can tell them whenever you want.”
The current position you’re in is more than comfortable, and you find yourself growing drowsy as he peppers kisses along your cheek and your shoulder.
“But, Y/N-” he starts, and despite your sudden onset of drowsiness, you make a little noise of assent. it’s enough for Mark to hug you tighter to him, before continuing.
“You know you’re still my best friend no matter what, right? This-” he gestures to the both of you, smiling gently, “doesn’t change anything.”
His words hit you harder than you want to let on, and you try not to make your emotions too plain your face as you lean against his shoulder, feeling his heart beat gently against his chest.
However, your words still come out slightly choked. “Yeah, I know.”
“I’m quite lucky, don’t you think? A best friend and a girlfriend in the same person.”
“Donghyuck won’t be happy to hear that,” you mutter, and you feel the vibrations of Mark’s chest as he laughs, a loud one that you know is genuine. The very sound itself is enough to make you smile.
“Thank God he’s not here, then.”
“I am, actually.”
The voice that materializes from the hallway is enough to make you jump and almost fall off Mark’s lap, right as he catches you. You scramble to get off his lap, hands moving to your lap as Donghyuck walks into the living room, arms crossed.
“How the fuck did you get in?” you ask, and Donghyuck lifts his hand up, a glint of metal twirled in his fingers. “Spare key. Mark showed me once when he was drunk off his ass.”
“And you didn’t knock?”
“I did. Many times, actually. You two lovebirds just tuned it all out. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”
“For one, this is a private apartment.”
“I mean, if the both of you were having sex, I’d probably hear it first and show myself out,” he shoots back nonchalantly, and your eyes widen at the same time that Mark lets out an embarrassed cough, which only makes Donghyuck let out a surprised laugh.
“Haven’t gotten there yet, huh?” He’s smirking now, looking at the both of you beneath his eyelashes in a way that makes you want to throttle him.
“Let’s- let’s talk about something else,” you mutter, and Donghyuck shrugs. “Sure. I came here to tell you guys that we’ve settled everything for the winter break trip. We leave in four days, once semester ends.”
“You came all the way here just for that?” you ask suspiciously, and the boy smiles as if he’s been caught.
“Um, I haven’t had lunch. Also, I don’t have any beach shorts, and Mark has a few he can lend.”
You nod, before narrowing your eyes. “You’re not going to tell the rest, right?”
“Not yet. But only because I want to see their reactions when I do,” Donghyuck replies, and you huff under your breath. It’s good enough for now.
“Then sit down. And help me prep the ingredients for lunch.” At your words, Donghyuck immediately straightens into a mock salute. “Got it.”
The gesture makes you laugh slightly as you go to the fridge, setting out everything on the counter. But Donghyuck seems to be deep in thought, almost orbiting around you.
After a while, however, he eventually opens his mouth, unable to contain his curiosity any longer.
“…So you guys really haven’t fucked?”
“Shut it, Donghyuck.”
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“I didn’t even mean to kiss him!” Yeji shouts, sitting up in her chair to defend herself. “The alcohol made him seem a lot more good-looking than he actually was.”
Karina only laughs behind her cup. “You just have shit taste in men.”
“Which is why I have a girlfriend now,” she says, grinning widely as she grabs Ryujin’s hand. The latter only rolls her eyes.
The eleven of you are gathered around a campfire, blankets bundled over your laps as you take turns dangling marshmallows over the fire. You can’t even remember whose idea it was to come down to the coast to escape winter for a few weeks, but as the sea breeze blows through your hair, you’re grateful for it.
“This is nice,” Chenle says, resting his feet on a stool as he leans back, sunglasses over his eyes.
“Says the one who refused to leave the house at first,” Donghyuck snides, earning an elbow in the side.
“Can the both of you just stop bickering for one second?” Jaemin says from across the circle, exasperated. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“Well, if you want to hear about more idiots that Yeji has kissed while drunk-” Karina’s offer is cut off by the aforementioned girl kicking her in the shin, cheeks bright with mortification.
“I’m one of those idiots, unfortunately,” Ryujin shoots back, earning huffs of amusement from everyone as she defends her girlfriend.
“Speaking of that…” Karina trails off, gaze drifting to you and Mark in a way that makes you shift nervously, eyes darting away from hers as you laugh nervously. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
She leans back, a sly glint in her eyes as she scrutinizes every minute shift of your features. “You were the second couple that night to go in. Did anything happen?”
Everyone else is paying attention now, even as they try to hide it.
Your eyes go to Donghyuck for a second, who only has a shit-eating grin on his face. From his expression, you can tell the man is practically jumping out of his seat at the prospect of being the one to reveal your newly-formed relationship with Mark.
Which means you have to beat him first.
“Yeah. We’re dating now,” you mutter, hiding your grin with a sip of your hot chocolate as the entire group turns silent. Even Mark looks at you, surprised, but his face quickly transforms into one of smug happiness as he grabs your hand, fingers interlacing with yours. “We are,” he confirms, and Karina’s eyes widen beyond what you thought possible.
“Whoa. Whoa. Hold on- when did this happen?”
“The morning after,” you supplicate, and she rests her forehead on her hands as she blinks.
“Good to know the both of you had it in you,” Chenle says, smiling at you in a way that’s equal parts teasing and sweet. “By the way, you should probably give credit to Hyuck. He was the first to notice, you know.”
“Really?”
“Wasn’t difficult when the both of you were staring at each other like lovestruck idiots,” he says, and you roll your eyes. You suppose you owe the man a word of thanks, eventually. Just not right now.
“I’m happy for you guys.” Jaemin, the sweetest of your group, smiles widely at the both of you, and Mark pats him on the back in a sign of affection. “Really. It was a long time coming.”
“I guess it was, huh?” Mark says, turning towards you with a contemplative sort of joy on his features. Despite the dim lighting, it’s almost as if there’s stars in his eyes as he looks at you, hand still tightly holding on to yours.
“God, couples make me sick,” Donghyuck mutters, earning a glare from you and Yeji. “You can leave, then,” you shoot back, pressing a kiss to Mark’s cheek in a sign of defiance.
“You bet I will-”
“Speaking of that,” Jaemin, always the mediator, cuts Donghyuck off. “It’s late. We should probably head back to the cabins.”
“Sounds good to me,” Karina says, standing up and folding her blanket over her chair. “God, it’s cold.”
“You cold?” Mark asks, and you shake your head, only zipping up your jacket as all of you make the slow trek back to your cabins at the end of the beach. Thanks to the off-season, you and Mark are sharing one, while Yeji, Ryujin and Karina take the larger house, with the other villas split between the six guys.
Eventually, you reach the doorstep of your cabin, waving farewell to the rest as they shrug off their shoes and unlock the doors. “Goodnight!” Yeji shouts, and you grin widely as you wave at her, the wind whipping your hair around your face.
Thankfully, the inside of the cabin offers a respite from the cold, and you find yourself quickly moving towards the woollen blanket on the couch. “Tired?” Mark asks, leaning against the armrest to face you directly, and you shake your head, eyes still bright. “Not at all. I think being on holiday keeps me awake.”
“Wanna watch a movie, then?” he asks, and you nod eagerly, stretching your arms out to pull him towards you.
“Come here,” you urge, making him stretch out his legs on the couch before you lie against him, legs tangled with his and back comfortably resting against his chest.
“Someone’s clingy today,” he points out, bemused.
“I haven’t gotten to be with you alone since we left for the trip yesterday. Let a girl have what she wants.”
At your words, he nods, lips curving up as his arms settle around your waist, a kiss pressed to your hairline. “I can do that for my girl.”
“My girl?” you ask, and he nods. “You’ve always been my girl. Even if you didn’t know it then.”
“I guess I like it. You can keep calling me that,” you reply, and he nips at your ear. “You looked good tonight, by the way,” you tell him, turning around momentarily to face him.
He’s wearing a fleece jacket over one of his graphic tees, somehow still choosing to wear ripped jeans despite the cold weather.
“I would say that back to you, but I’m guessing you already know,” he says, and you duck your head down, giggling softly.
“I suppose you also know that I love you. In case that wasn’t obvious enough,” he adds after a while, as if not quite sure what you’ll make of it. But you’re quick to nod.
“I love you too, Mark Lee. You’re everything to me.”
You’ve never meant anything more, and he seems to be a little starstruck as he looks at you, an utter look of adoration in his eyes. “How did I get so damn lucky?” he asks softly, and it’s enough to knock the breath out of your chest as your heart carves out even more space for him.
It’s only when Mark tilts your chin up that you go silent, eyes widening slightly. He’s staring directly at you, until he isn’t.
Because his gaze drops down to your lips, his thumb coming up to brush the corner in a way that makes you freeze.
“Can I kiss you?” he murmurs, and the question is so sweet, so earnest, that it makes you smile.
“You never have to ask,” you reply, and your boyfriend doesn’t hesitate before he’s pulling you mouth towards his and closing whatever little distance there is left.
Kissing Mark feels like sinking into a soft pillow after a long day, something that’s all too easy for you to melt into as you thread your fingers through the black strands at the nape of his neck. It’s surprisingly easy to do, the both of you moving naturally as if you’ve been doing this forever.
And when you find your kisses travelling down towards his neck, you take note of each soft exhale that he lets out, grip occasionally tightening around your waist.
Your hands are travelling too, going past his neck to his arms, and then ghosting down his sides, before you eventually find yourself preferring to fidget with the torn threads and rips in his jeans, occasionally tracing little shapes over the exposed skin of his thigh.
“You- you really should stop doing that,” he forces out after a while, the tension in his voice making you smile.
“Are you sure?” you ask, looking up for a second to take in the conflict evident in his features. “N-no. But it feels good.”
His tone is almost whiny, the little note of desperation in it making pleasurable heat curl in your stomach. “That was the goal, I think,” you shoot back sarcastically, and he laughs darkly, toying with the zipper at the side of your skirt.
You see the change as it happens, his eyes dimming just imperceptibly as something in it changes, a newfound determination in him as he presses one last bruising kiss to your lips.
“Don’t get snarky with me now. We still have the entire night, you know,” he reminds, and you find yourself quickly swelling with an unfamiliar sort of excitement, tinted with an almost delectable sort of fear as he pulls you even closer, fingertip tracing down the side of your face.
“And we have this entire place to ourselves, so what are you planning?” you ask, arching an eyebrow curiously, which causes Mark to smile teasingly. This side of him is so unfamiliar to you, and yet you love every moment of it as your pulse races, blood and adrenaline rushing through your veins in equal measure.
“You’ll find out soon enough, baby.”
This time, when he guides your mouth to his, you gladly let him steal your oxygen.
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taglist: @makiswrld @kittydollzz @littlefluu @alethea-moon@jamaisunoo @haunteddeputymugpersona @95cheols @bonnie-itz @sharkipoonis @lcvehyvck @ujisworld @mentally-married-to-johnny-suh @beomyomom @mad2lyn @emvrd @tonicandjins @cas104 @poppysfieldnotes @spicyutas @nuttie-nv-blog @jvjsssnaa @liliansun @haechoshi @shwizhies
(some of you couldn't be tagged :( )
3K notes · View notes
midmourn · 3 months
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they cheat on you in your dream
♡ nct dream ﹒ gender neutral!reader genre humor, fluff warnings none, i think? note if yall have any requests let me know 🫶 ( library )
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1K notes · View notes
nwjws · 7 months
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in my head - yjw
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; pairing - jungwon x fem!reader
; synopsis - you’ve hated jungwon ever since you two met on the train to hogwarts back in first year; he’s self-centered, lazy, and always coming out for you. now in your seventh year, you’ve been named head girl (woohoo!). unfortunately, the head boy position was given to the one and only yang jungwon (boohoo…). with no other choice, you’re forced to face the annoyingly attractive boy and work with him for the rest of the year - if you can even last that long.
; tags - fluff, angst, crack, ravenclaw! headboy!jungwon, slytherin! headgirl!reader, rivals to lovers, enemies to lovers, hogwarts au (with a modern twist), bc they have tablets and stuff
; warnings - a little bit of swearing, a lot of hostility between yn and jw, lmk if i missed anything!
; wc - 12.9k words (umm.... have fun!)
teaser
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everyone’s eyes are on you as you stand up at the front of the great hall while the headmaster - professor bang si hyuk - introduces you as this year’s head girl. looking at all the students staring back up at you, you almost feel proud of yourself (keyword: almost). 
you’d think someone would be overjoyed at being acknowledged and recognised enough to have been given such a high position, but you aren’t. 
instead, you’re silently fuming, just barely keeping your temper in check as you plaster a fake smile on your face. your eye twitches as you hear a low chuckle from-
“the head boy, yang jungwon!” the headmaster announces. cheers erupt from around the room, all clapping for their new heads. 
“i can feel the waves of anger practically radiating off of you,” he murmured quietly.
yang jungwon. 
the boy you despised so much. 
listen, you don’t really hate anyone, but you’re pretty sure that what you feel towards the boy you called ‘yang’ is close enough.
in all your six years at hogwarts, you two have constantly been at each other’s throats. arguments often broke out between you in corridors; fights wherein one would end up stupefied or thrown against the wall; even little sabotages against each other that were subtle enough that teachers could pass off as an accident or your own fault rather than the other’s. 
for example, back in third year, yang had tripped you on your way into the great hall after everyone got off the hogwarts express. you had flashed everyone behind you and scraped your knee when you landed on the ground.
although no one saw him do it, you immediately knew who the culprit was, especially when he smirked down at you over his shoulder as he walked ahead. oh how badly you wanted to slap that smile off his face in the moment.
you retaliated the next week by mixing his white laundry with red clothes, so he was forced to attend his classes with pink uniform until he got new shirts. nothing satisfied you more than the glares he sent your way throughout the first day of his pink week, you could feel him boring holes into the back of your head even when you weren’t looking.
making your way back to the slytherin table, you thought back to when you got that fateful letter a few weeks back.
you slid the window open after spotting an owl from afar flying towards your house.
the bird flew in gracefully, and dropped your letter from hogwarts on the kitchen island counter, accepting the treats offered from your hand.
“y/n, please. close the window, would you? it’s so windy outside - it’s blowing away my papers!” your mother scolded from her seat at the table.
“sorry, my bad! i just got my grades.”
“ah really? let’s see it then.”
you scanned the letter, satisfied to see an O on all your subjects. although they weren’t your final NEWTS grades, they were an indication of how you did throughout sixth year according to teachers’ assessments. 
you’d been nervous at seeing anything below an O, but your friends had told you not to worry all summer.
“you’ve never dropped from the top rank in our year ever since first year, why would you now?”
“hiyyih, it’s only because of how much i’ve studied, but what if the expectations this year are higher? what if it’s not enough? what if i spent too many free periods sitting with you guys by the lake instead of-“
“be for real, you only did that twice! you’re the only person who’s actually spent their free periods studying,” rei said.
“well that’s what they’re supposed to be used for!”
“who actually does that! besides you, of course.”
“rei’s right, even yang jungwon often spends his frees with his friends.”
“that’s why he’s number 2,” you roll your eyes. “maybe if he studied during his frees, he’d finally get that number 1 spot he's been telling me he'd get for years.”
“it’s the fact he doesn’t have to study as hard to easily get second top student in our year. besides, weren’t you just worrying about not being first this time ‘round?”
that set you off into another episode of wailing and worrying about your results.
reading the letter, your eyes zeroed in on a shiny gold badge attached to the bottom.
  dear kim y/n,  we are pleased to inform you that you have been chosen as head girl for this upcoming academic year. you will be working alongside the head boy, yang jungwon, and all prefects across the four houses. you and the head boy’s duties will be relayed to you after the sorting ceremony. congratulations once again, you are well deserving of the title. sincerely, headmaster bang si hyuk
you still remember your mother questioning you after watching your figure suddenly go from jumping around the kitchen all giddy, to sulkily dragging your feet to the table.
of course, you were honoured to be picked, but did they really have to choose your enemy as your partner? i mean, the whole school knows about your rivalry, and you guys have been told off countless times by teachers! so was this really a smart idea?
when the ceremony ended, one of the professors led you and yang to the head dormitories.
(a “benefit” of being one of the heads was getting your own room, separate from your own house dorms. but you’d still be sharing the common room with yang, so that wasn’t exactly the biggest plus in your books.)
“as you can see, you will have separate private rooms, each with their own bathroom,” the professor pointed at the doors on opposite sides of the common room.
“but you two will share this living space. there’s a little library in the corner as well. 
“now for rules..." he started listing a bunch of obvious rules - like what's allowed in the head dorms and what isn't, when you can bring your friends, etc.
“and last but not least, you aren’t allowed in each other’s private quarters,” he paused before glancing at both students. “although, i don’t think that’ll be a problem.” 
he’s right there, you thought bitterly.
the idea of even sharing the common room with the boy irked you, let alone entering his own room. you could only imagine all the stupid tricks he was planning on you right now - but you were doing the same.
after the whole ordeal, the professor finally left you two alone, but not before telling you that you should start planning out the prefects’ patrolling schedules so that you could meet up with them as soon as possible.
you and yang stared at each other for a moment, apprehension hanging in the air. this is the first time you two have directly looked each other in the eye tonight.
“so… i guess we should get to sorting out those schedules,” he breaks the silence, gesturing to the scroll of names in your hands, which the professor had left with you.
nodding, you followed him to the large table in the middle of the room, where you’d hold a meeting with the prefects tomorrow morning.
“here’s the list of all the prefects, plus their student ID numbers.”
“okay, we can use those to add them all into a group chat on hog-messages and inform them of the meeting tomorrow.”
one of the newer developments at hogwarts in recent years was the addition of electronic tablets given to every student, so they’d be able to communicate faster with each other. it had an app programmed within it called ‘hog-messages’ where students could message each other or their teachers, and create group chats, all activity being monitored by staff.
the tablets also allowed the students to be able to write notes down on it, but most teachers often preferred all homework to be written on paper scrolls anyway. 
all this was provided by yang enterprises.
yup. yang was the son of the wizard who introduced muggle electronic devices into the wizarding world, instantly boosting their family into riches and success.
the world was given to him on a silver platter, so he’s always had it easy. and unfortunately for you, the boy not only grew up snobby and privileged, but was smart too. 
coming from the muggle world, you entered the wizarding world with an open mind. despite this, you hated the ravenclaw almost as soon as you met him. 
his ego was high up through the roof way before he’d even been placed in the house, and he emanated a strong intimidating aura. as soon as yang saw you on that hogwarts train, he turned his nose up at you like you were dirt before you’d even spoken a word to each other.
nonetheless, you managed to work out a schedule together smoothly. but the lack of clashing heads for once put you on edge, you felt like something was just wrong.
“alright, i’ve sent a message to the group,” he said, staring at his screen.
“okay…” you trailed off, unsure what to say. “um, let’s be civil this year, yang,” you say instead, putting a hand out.
the boy looked up at you, before glancing down at your hand then laughed in disbelief. as if you had said you were going to run 100 laps around the castle.
“duh, i knew that when i got the letter. that doesn’t need to be said. are you an idiot?”
now it was you who stared at him in disbelief. there’s the yang you know.
lowering your hand, you scoffed and stormed into your room, which was luckily closer so you didn't have to spend another second looking at his pretty face.
you should have known nothing would ever change. you can’t believe you almost thought that yang had changed. of course he’d never grow up, maybe he was just made this way. 
on the other hand, the return of his ugly personality brought you some comfort. it was just something you were more familiar with. you weren’t used to the driven and focused attitude he had on earlier when sorting out the schedule, and you’d prefer to keep it that way. 
unpacking your bags and showering before changing into pajamas, you set an alarm for 6:30am, so you’d have time for the meeting at 7:30 and can end it before classes began at 8. you went to bed feeling prepared for tomorrow.
the next morning however, you woke up late. 
the sunlight seeped in through the curtains, and after a moment, you checked your phone for the time.
8:34am
crap.
you practically jumped out of bed and began to frantically get ready, pulling on the first shirt and skirt you could grab from your closet.
why hadn’t your alarm woken you up? you set the alarm two hours earlier. had you accidentally typed 630 into the calculator app instead from a tiring day?
however, when you check your alarm clock, you saw that it had been turned off. although, you clearly remember pressing save and checking that it was on before tucking yourself into bed.
you pause as you brush your hair, your thoughts coming to a stop.
it was yang, you realised. 
is this his idea of civil? you wonder what he's on as you slip on your uniform in panic. 
quickly brushing your teeth, you put on your tie as you ran out the room, a chill hits you when you remembered the prefects’ meeting you were supposed to have this morning.
oh my god, they probably think i'm an irresponsible head girl. there’s no doubt the bad impression being late on your first day as head girl would leave on not only the students, but the teachers as well. 
will they revoke your position? will they give the badge to another, more responsible girl? who preferably doesn’t have beef with the head boy? 
you cringed at the thought you might be punished because of something entirely yang’s fault, and he’d get away with it. as he always does. 
you ran down the moving stairs, almost slipping off the edge when it suddenly changed paths, towards your first class as you cursed out the head boy in your mind. 
but soon enough, nervousness took over as you neared the classroom.
there was only about 15 minutes left of the period, so was it even worth it to go? and besides, yang was in this class too. you’d hate to see the gloating smirk on his face when you enter and get scolded by the professor.
before you could decide however, the door opened, revealing the very boy you’d been planning revenge on all morning.
yang didn’t look surprised to see you there, evident by the grin on his face.
he faked a shocked tone though, when he announced your presence to the professor (and the whole class).
it goes without saying that you definitely had a bad morning, being held back in class for another half hour to make up for what you missed that morning. 
thankfully, you had a free period next, so you weren’t missing your next class this time.
although you hated yang jungwon with every fibre of your being, you weren’t a snitch. you wouldn’t dare expose him - mostly because it would be useless. who would really believe you, when you were already messing up so early in the year? and certainly not when it accused the school’s beloved heartthrob. 
so you took your punishment on without a complaint, pointedly ignoring yang the rest of the day, who didn’t even try to hide his smile.
you sighed as you made notes on griffin claw substitutes, all alone in the potions classroom.
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september and october rolled by; even though you and yang continued your little pranks and tricks on each other, you guys managed your head duties just fine. he did his work and never slacked, so you were satisfied.
you had gotten your revenge on yang by charming his wand to vibrate uncontrollably two days later. you remember barely being able to hold in your laugh as you watched him struggle to conjure a flock of birds, an explosion of feathers popping from the tip instead.
from what you heard, he also struggled in his other classes you didn’t share, which delighted you to no end. 
“what are you skipping around all giddy about?” hiyyih asked you sceptically.
“just that yang seems to be struggling in herbology class, according to jang wonyoung.”
“what did you do?” rei eyed suspiciously.
“how could you accuse me of doing something?” you gasped.
“it’s pretty obvious - head boy and student #2 wouldn’t just struggle in a class he’s always done well in,” minji shrugged.
you rolled your eyes at your friends, but then smiled cheekily when you admitted how you’d snuck into his room that morning and cast a charm on his wand with a spell that would only stop after twenty-four hours.
“okay, that’s pretty funny. i’m gonna have to ask wony about it later,” rei laughed. 
your phone buzzed, and upon checking it, you were surprised to see a text from the one and only yang jungwon.
Hog-Messages YANG JUNGWON (ID: 78395) professor kim wants to see us
“speak of the devil,” you tell your friends and show them your screen. 
you watched as the three glanced at each other, equally surprised.
“wow, a text! from yang jungwon! and it’s not some evil curse or cryptic message!” hiyyih remarked, which you nodded to in agreement. 
rei laughed. “you guys act like he’s incapable of simple communication; he’s just relaying a message.”
“sometimes rei, i think he is,” you joked.
YANG JUNGWON ID: 78395 professor kim wants to see us
KIM Y/N ID: 78384 when?
YANG JUNGWON ID: 78395 after classes today at his office
KIM Y/N ID: 78384 ofc it’s at his office, you think he’d want to meet us in the restrooms?
YANG JUNGWON ID: 78395 i hope u fall off your broom on the pitch also come un-charm my wand or something right now.
KIM Y/N ID: 78384 can’t 🤷‍♀️  sux 2 b u
"honestly, if i didn't know better, i'd think you two had a hate-love relationship," minji teased.
"ew, anything above dislike is something i will never feel for yang jungwon," you scrunched your nose in distaste. how could minji even think something like that?
"whatever," she snickered.
arriving in front of the professor’s office door, you opened it to find jungwon already inside and seated on one of the chairs opposite the teacher’s desk. you bowed in greeting before taking the other empty seat.
“so,” professor kim started. “we need to talk about your behaviour as the head students.”
you gulped. had you done something wrong? were those threats to revoke your position on the first day real? 
looking over at your co-partner, his face was unreadable, as always. he looked perfectly calm, which infuriated you.
“as head boy and girl, you two are setting the standard for the rest of the school. you guys are supposed to be role models. but i’m sure you already know this.” professor kim paused and looked at both of you intently before continuing.
“so why is it i’m finding out that you two have not been doing your patrols together?”
oh. so that’s what this is about.
you and yang had completed one patrol session together on the first week of school, and it’s safe to say that it was… horrific. without going into too much detail, you guys had practically argued the whole two hours that night; although it was unlikely, if there were any couples making out or young students causing trouble, they probably heard you two from a mile away and hid before they were caught.
at the end of the night, you both agreed that you’d just swap your schedules and patrol with other prefects - possibly the only thing you two had ever agreed on.
“we weren’t aware that we had to patrol together,” you replied when the head boy was clearly not going to speak up first. what a pussy.
it was a lie; you guys obviously knew that head students were supposed to patrol together. having been prefects in previous years, you knew how things worked. it was why you had done the first patrol together after all. 
but you figured that since it wasn’t a specifically given instruction, you didn’t actually have to do it together.
professor kim stared at you two incredulously for a moment, his expression somewhere between exasperation and disbelief. a pool of anxiousness swirled in your stomach at the way he sighed and pinched his nose bridge frustratedly.
“listen, i don’t know what si-hyuk was thinking when he had chosen you two as the heads, given your history and all. but he chose you. so please show that you’re worthy of the title - let go of your childish rivalry. otherwise, we may actually have to find new head students.”
“you could just let go of her, professor. i’d be able to work with any other girl,” yang finally spoke up. of course the first thing he'd say is an insult.
you gasped and glared at him. 
“clearly, you’re the one who’s childish and immature here. maybe you should be the one to get replaced.”
“enough!” the teacher slammed his hands on the desk. “if you two keep this act up, we will not hesitate to replace you both.”
and so with that, you and yang left the office in uncomfortable silence. not a word was spoken between you until just before you parted ways.
“guess we’ll use the old schedule again,” he said. you nodded.
being the end of the day, you were both too tired to argue. the heavy workload that comes with NEWTS in addition to the responsibilities of your positions, you both left for your own common rooms without sparing another glance.
the dreaded patrol round came sooner than you would have liked, and you found yang waiting by the castle doors. you always seemed to be the later one, as if he’d placed a curse on you with that trick at the start of the year.
he kicked himself off the wall he’d been leaning against when he saw you, and began to walk without so much as a ‘hi’ or ‘let’s go’. you had to quickly jog to catch up to him.
the air between you two as you walked around was silent and tense, so thick that you could probably cut it with a knife.
surprisingly, yang was the first to break the silence.
“i was thinking - we should plan the first hogsmeade trip for this term.”
“mhm,” you hummed in agreement. “i think it’s best to have it after the quidditch match in november.”
“yeah, at the end of the month. and people would be able to go before the winter break.”
you fished your phone out from your pocket and opened the calendar app.
“when should we have it?"
yang leaned over your shoulder to look at your screen. “let’s have it on the twenty-seventh," he says, pointing at the date on the calendar. "it’d be good to have the week between the match and the trip free so we can prepare.”
you nodded as you listened, typing up a reminder to speak with the professors about it. 
“hey!” the head boy suddenly shouted, causing you to jump. “what are you kids doing here?”
you looked up to find he had opened a classroom, in which three students in around 4th or 5th year were standing. they stared up at the pair of you with wide eyes, like a dear in headlights.
“what are you doing?” you asked, regaining your composure. looking at their ties, you realised they were in slytherin, like you.
the students glanced at each other worriedly and slowly backed away from the two of you. you noticed them hiding something behind them on the desk.
pointing your wand at the items behind them, you summoned it nonverbally, yelling ‘accio!’ in your mind. the items flew into your arms.
“you all better go back to your common room. it’s way past your curfew,” yang warned them. “20 points from slytherin.”
the group shuffled out of the room and quickly ran back to the dungeons.
“isn’t 20 too many?” you grumbled. maybe you were a little biased since they were in your house though.
ignoring you, yang sighed as he turned back to look at the contents in your hands.
“what is it?” he asked.
upon closer inspection, it seemed to be the plannings or blueprint of a large snake puppet that moved on its own, the quote ‘slytherin slays’ painted along its body.
you held back a giggle as you read the notes on how to make the snake glare and breathe flames out when faced with a ravenclaw. yang snorted as he read them as well.
“you slytherins are always so immature when it comes to quidditch matches.” you rolled your eyes and glared at him, imagining you were breathing flames like the puppet snake.
“at least we have a strong sense of support for our house. what’re you birdies doing? painting little flying banners that the players won’t be able to read on the pitch?”
“my team doesn’t need to read our house’s support. we’re good enough and know if.”
“sounds like there’s just no house spirit.”
“say that to me when your team loses,” he challenged.
“you’ll be waiting forever then,” you retorted.
“let’s place a bet. 20 galleons that ravenclaw wins.”
“fine! if we wins, i want you to pay my monthly subscription in an online game for a year."
“what?”
“i need money," you huff, crossing your arms indignantly.
“you need muggle money.”
“well, yes. but i mean, you can convert your wizarding money into muggle money, then pay for my monthly subscription in a game so i get game money.”
“that sounds useless; for a kids’ game? and you called me the childish one?” he raised a questioning eyebrow.
“i wouldn’t need to find peace in an online game if you didn’t bother me all the time, you know," you complain. "you’re like a piece of gum i can’t get off my shoe.”
“you could just cast a spell to get the gum off,” he shrugged.
“you’re right, i’ll just cast a spell on you!” you smile brightly. “stupe-“
“oh my god, okay! i’ll pay for your stupid game - if slytherin wins, which you won’t.”
you smiled to yourself, a skip in your step for the rest of the patrol.
soon, the day of the match arrived; ravenclaw against slytherin (because of course it was). 
the morning of the match was lively as usual, everyone split between green and blue. 
you watched the large snake float above everyone’s heads in the great hall, breathing (harmless) flames into every ravenclaw’s face. 
just at that moment, you bumped into the trio of students who’d been planning the little surprise. you sent them a discreet smile.
“20 points to slytherin,” you awarded for the clever trick, but also to make up for the twenty that yang had taken.
suddenly, you screech when a flock of small origami birds flew and pecked at your hair, ruining the braid you’d put your hair in for the match. 
looking up, you noticed the small paper birds flying about the hall, pecking at every slytherin-supporter. this was definitely ravenclaw’s idea; no doubt yang had gotten inspiration from the those students you two had caught.
“you good, kim?” a familiar voice greets you. you turn to see the devil himself smirking at you, pleased with the mess you are.
“i was, until you got here.”
“maybe it’s a sign that you’ll lose today.”
“maybe it’s a sign you should shut up.”
the match started without a hitch. 
you scored the first 10 points of the match within 6 minutes, and by the first half hour, slytherin was ahead by 30 points. 
you enjoyed the thrill of being a chaser, trying different ways to get the quarrel past the keeper. in fact, you enjoyed flying in general, and being on the pitch.
that is until, you started getting pestered by the other team’s seeker.
you noticed yang seemed to be flying around you after a few laps, and sent him a questioning look.
“what are you doing, yang?”
“looking for the snitch, it’s my job.”
“well, i’m not the snitch. so keep looking!”
“well i’m certainly looking at a similar word.”
it took time to process what he meant, but when you realised, you glared at the boy.
“focus on the game- if you keep your eyes on me, you’ll be paying for my subscription soon!”
yang scoffed and looked away, searching the pitch for the snitch, sending you a glare before zooming away.
the game ended in slytherin’s favour, your team’s seeker barely clutching the golden ball in his hands before the head boy could reach it.
cheers roared across the stadium when it ended with your team’s success, students running onto the pitch in excitement to congratulate you and the other players.
“seriously, the way you threw the quaffle into the hoop while gliding through the air - it was so smooth!” minji gushed as rei nodded in agreement. 
“let’s go, there’s going to be a congratulatory party in the common room!” rei says, taking your hand to drag you.
“can i come?” asked hiyyih excitedly, who was a gryffindor.
“duh!”
you laughed as you followed your three best friends, when you caught sight of a certain person in the corner of your eye.
“wait, i have to do something real quick,” you pause to tell the girls. they stopped as well and looked at you curiously.
“what is it?”
“wait for me. i just need to talk to yang - head stuff,” you tell them off-handedly, before running off to the ravenclaw team.
“it’s definitely not about ‘head stuff’,” hiyyih nudges rei, who nods as they watch you leave.
you make your way to the losing ravenclaw team, even congratulating some of them on a good game. 
when you reach your target, you tap on his shoulder to get his attention, before smiling triumphantly up at him (wow, you never realised how much taller he was than you until now).
“what is it, kim?” he drawled with an eye-roll.
“the bet. i won.” you gloated, the smile never leaving your face, widening instead when he wore a look of disbelief.
“oh, right.” he sighed before scratching the back of his head, looking around thoughtfully. “let’s sort it out tomorrow, at patrol.”
“okay! don’t back down from your end of the bet.” 
“i may hate you, but i’m not a sore loser. see you tomorrow night, kim.”
“with my monthly subscription payment!” you say, waving tauntingly as you ran back to your friends.
“what did you need to talk to him about?” minji asked, putting her hand out to hold yours as you four made your way to the slytherin dungeons.
“we’re making monthly plans to help a student who needs it,” you say smugly.
“sounds like you’re twisting the truth,” rei laughed.
“but it is the truth!” you protested.
you found yourself happily scrolling through the game's catalog, looking to spend your newly-bought robux.
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ever since your deal on the match, you found yourself slowly warming up to yang.
well, not to the point you’d consider each other friends, but you acknowledge each other in passing with a nod or quick wave instead of pointedly looking the other way like usual.
you also argued less, much to the relief of the entire school. however, they were still apprehensive, waiting for something to blow up eventually. it was simply too suspiciously calm and quiet without your voices yelling down the hall or in the corner of a classroom.
as the weeks went on, you two learned to get along better and better everyday, even willingly becoming partners in potions once.
sometimes, you would walk to the great hall together for lunch or dinner after a meeting. you even spent your free periods with yang, which you told your friends was because ‘they didn’t have any frees with you’ so you ‘might as well spend it productively’ with the head boy who coincidentally shared the same free periods schedule.
you did lots of stuff together, as expected of the head girl and head boy.
yet, you always avoided studying together.
others might think it’s because of your rivalry; how one might copy off the other’s or something.
sure, you laugh to yourself. let people think what they want.
but the idea of studying with yang again brings back memories of fifth year.
you didn’t tell anyone about it, not even your own friends. 
at the end of the year, you’d been practically glued to the library for two months, studying for your OWLs.
“mind if i sit here?” 
you turn up to see a familiar face.
“yang?”
“there’s no other free space in the library,” he rolled his eyes, making up an excuse.
looking around, you realised he was right. the only other free spots were next to students that were notoriously weirdos who everyone avoided. maybe he doesn’t want them to copy off his work, you think to yourself.
“um, okay,” you agreed hesitantly while sucking on a sugar quill, moving some of your books to make space for him. those sweets often helped you focus.
yang pulled the seat out and sat down, before beginning to study himself.
you tried to continue as you were, but had lost focus. not even the green apple-flavoured sweet in your mouth could help you concentrate.
you were hyper aware of his presence - the way he hunched over the table with his hair falling over his face. you watched him from the corner of your eye.
why had he chosen to sit with you? were there seriously no better places to go? what about his room? the astronomy tower? the little corner window by the potions classroom downstairs?
“relax. i can feel how tense you are from here.”
“does your oh-so-precious pure-wizard blood give you the ability to sense emotions like a dog?” you scoffed. he looked up sharply and gave you a serious look.
“i just want to revise for my OWLs; let’s keep our disputes outside the library, where we won’t get hexed by madame park over there.”
you rolled your eyes and kept your head down, going back to your own business.
over the course of the month, a routine slowly began wherein you would often study together in the library. 
sometimes it was you joining him instead, and you would just wordlessly take the seat opposite him. even when there were other spaces to sit, you two always chose to sit together in the corner table, hidden from the rest of the school.
a word was never spoken between the two top students. and you never told your friends about the little arrangement either.
his presence quickly became something of a comfort for you - it was easier to focus on your studies when he was there. and if you ever needed help with something, he’d give you a few pointers when you finally begrudgingly asked.
he never asked you for help though, which always reminded you why he was number 2. it infuriated you how you had to work twice as hard than him just to barely surpass the boy.
whenever you heard people talking of him in passing, he was always nicknamed ‘the prodigy boy’. what were you called? ‘the girl that was good for a muggle-born’.
he was your rival, but you weren’t his. and he’s made that clear since the day you met.
and yet, despite all the resentment you held for him, you enjoyed his company. OWLs were stressing the life out of everyone, but it felt like you could get through it with him sitting across you.
maybe it’s because he motivated you to keep working harder, to try more so you could widen the gap between your ranks. seeing him everyday reminded you of why you tried so hard. maybe you wanted to show him (and everyone else) that being muggle-born doesn’t mean you’re any less than those born in this world. 
at least that’s what you told yourself. 
but it doesn’t explain why you began to glance at his lips every time he sat across you. 
it doesn’t explain why butterflies began to flutter in your stomach when you felt the warmth of his body close to yours as he’d lean over your shoulder and point at the book when you asked for help. or why you felt giddy when you’d play with each other’s feet under the table.
until one day, he’d dropped his smart-quill on the floor, and you were quicker to kneel down from your seat to get it. 
“here,” you said, handing him the quill, still on your knees on the floor.
as you faced him, you realised the close proximity only then. 
you stared into his eyes that pulled you in, keeping you locked and unable to escape from his gaze. he stared right back, the quill forgotten in your hand, which now lay on his left knee.
you didn’t even realise the way he slowly leaned down until he cupped your cheek.
his touch was soft; you leaned into it. 
“is this okay?” you could barely hear him whisper over the rapid beating of your heart. all you could do was nod.
your eyes fluttered shut as your lips finally connected. a mix of pretty emotions burst in your stomach, filling you with a giddiness you never knew before.
it might have been just a few seconds, or it could have been hours - you didn’t know. that first kiss was everything you ever imagined it to be.
you pulled away first, finally running out of air. but he chased after your lips, kissing you again. 
the memory of your first kiss will forever be cemented in your memory. you were just two 16 year olds, softly holding onto each other in the corner of a library, hidden from the rest of the world.
you scrunch your nose at the bittersweet memory. who would’ve thought your first kiss would be with the person you hate the most in this world. 
when you returned to school for sixth year that september, yang acted like nothing happened between you two. 
he ignored you for the first month of school, not even bothering to taunt you like he used to. everyone had been stumped, including you, but he eventually went back to his usual tactics, albeit with a noticeable lack of ‘stupid muggleborn who can never be on our level’ comments. soon you two were back to your regular bickering as if he didn’t ignore your existence for the first month of school. 
as if you hadn’t shared a kiss just three months before.
now, your developing friendship scared you. you didn’t want a repeat of last time; his actions had really hurt you back then.  
you remember all the nights you spent in the library, waiting. waiting for him to come, to explain why he was acting like that. waiting for something.
thoughts ran through your mind, trying to reason why he might do this. maybe he realised he didn't feel for you the way you felt for him. maybe he went back to his room that night and wiped all the muggle germs off his face. maybe he realised he was too good for you.
you remember all the times you cried yourself to sleep, eyes puffy for weeks that even your teachers asked if you were okay. if maybe you’d eaten something bad or been cursed. that maybe you should go to the infirmary to fix it.
hiyyih, rei, and minji had no idea how to help you, because you refused to tell them what was wrong. 
and you never did. it’s simply too embarrassing. explaining that you kissed your number one enemy and then he ignored you for month and acted like nothing happened between you two was humiliating. you knew your friends wouldn’t, but surely if other students found out, they’d laugh at you.
yang probably laughed with his friends about it. you were just waiting, dreading to hear the rumours of how you’re a bad kisser and how no one should ever want your muggle-born, good-for-nothing ass. 
every time you walked past him and his friends, you’d walk faster and look everywhere but their direction. you imagined their snickers and smirks as they watched you run by like a pathetic loser.
the rumours never came however. 
no one ever looked at you weirdly, or laughed at you. you ended sixth year with a big sigh of relief, releasing a breath you didn't realise you'd been holding the whole year.
now, you found yourself standing next to the very boy who you had spent the end of your 5th year with, walking a big group of students towards hogsmeade.
you sigh as you think about your astronomy test on monday, which you’d rather spend the weekend studying for.
unfortunately, as the heads, it’s you and yang’s duty to chaperone the students on their trip to the village. 
you sigh and pull on your strap, hiking your heavy bag higher up your back. you think of the long day ahead, studying in the corner of one of the quieter cafés, freezing your toes off. it’s not preferable, but it’ll have to do.
yang watches you, eyeing your heavy bag of books.
“what the hell? don’t tell me you’re spending this trip studying.”
“alright, i won’t,” you roll your eyes at him as you two trudge behind the large crowd of students. it was 9 in the morning, and you were too tired to reply.
“wouldn’t you rather spend your time with your friends? you somehow have those,” he teased.
“well yeah,” you huff, a little irritated at his care-free attitude. “but not everyone can pass an astronomy test without needing to study like you. some of us actually have to work our butts off for good grades.”
yang stopped in his tracks, causing you to follow and look back at him questioningly.
to your surprise, he wore a serious expression, glaring forward and refusing to look at you. you must’ve struck a nerve.
“stop acting like you’re the only one in the world that has to fucking work hard,” he fumed. you’ve never seen him this mad, even in all your arguments throughout the years. 
“you’re always going on about how much you have to study this, how you need to work harder than me that - blah blah blah. 
“why do you always feel the need to undermine my work? always downplaying my accomplishments to ‘mere talent’. what about the tens of hundreds of hours i’ve poured into my own studies? the hours i’ve spent sat by a tutor since i was 6?”
surprised by his outburst in combination with your own irritation and jealousy, you couldn’t help but retort.
“are you serious right now? do you have to make everything about yourself?”
“oh because the world revolves around you? you are so fucking entitled!”
“me? entitled?” you laugh in disbelief. “you’re talking about how i undermine and downplay your work, when you’ve always been the one to yell out to the whole world how i’m a ‘stupid, pathetic muggleborn who’s lacking and can never fit in this world’!” students were beginning to notice your argument and were looking behind as they walked at you two now.
“so that’s what this is about? some shit i said two years ago?” he scoffed.
“some shit you threw at me for 5 years!” you throw your hands up in frustration.
“well maybe you’re proving me right with all your talk about just how much you need to study because you’ll 'never have it as easy as us'!” he yelled right back, mocking you. “you don’t know a thing about me.” 
you stared at him, panting heavily. everyone’s attention was now on you two, people watching instead of walking.
“kim y/n! yang jungwon!” you hear the booming voice of professor kim shout over the crowd. 
he stormed to you two, face red and veins popping out his neck.
“this behaviour is incredibly inappropriate of role model students! you two are supposed to be guiding the students towards the village, is that such a difficult task?” he scolded you and yang in exasperation.
“could you at least keep your feud behind closed doors? it’s incredibly selfish to ruin everyone’s day with your constant fights!”
you looked down ashamedly as your friends took this as their sign to finally drag you from your spot. jungwon’s friend, nishimura riki from 5th year copied their actions.
professor kim looked at the crowd which had now completely stopped to watch the show. 
“keep moving kids!” he sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.  
“park gunwook,” he called. the gryffindor jogged towards the teacher. “pham hanni.” the hufflepuff followed. “you two will take over the role of chaperoning the students, since our head students are clearly unsuitable for the job,” he instructed, throwing you a dirty look. 
the two 6th year prefects nodded and began to walk behind everyone, feeling a little awkward at being put on the spot. 
you glared at yang one more time, but was met with a different expression instead.
yang met your stare with concern written on his face, as his tall friend dragged him away. it confused you; just a moment ago, he’d been furious with you, and now he looked worried? what was he worried about? what’s with the switch up?
you couldn’t ponder on it any longer, what with your own friends shuffling you away from the crime scene.
the rest of the day was spent tucked away in a little corner of a small café you found, one people didn’t go to as much.
the girls had tried to convince you to join them on their fun, but let you go when you told them you had star charts to memorise for your upcoming test. they seemed hesitant, but after witnessing your recent fight with the head boy, they reluctantly allowed you to go off on your own with promises of saving you a butterbeer.
you busied yourself with your books, not wanting to think about the weird events this morning. from your first disagreement in a while, to yang’s mood swing - it was better to spend your thoughts on what was more important.
eventually, you woke up in the late afternoon, only realising then that you had fallen asleep. the rays of light from the sunset seeped through the window, waking you up with its blinding brightness. 
how long had you fallen asleep? you could have been revising in the time you dozed off. astronomy was your weakest subject, so you really needed that precious time.
you groan in frustration, sighing as you sit up to straighten your back. but something falls off your shoulders as you do. 
you look behind you and realise it was a jacket, which had been left on your shoulders by someone. but who?
bewildered, you pick up the jacket (which had an oddly familiar scent to it) and turn back to your table of books. but before you can return to your studies, something catches your eye.
there, on top of a pile of textbooks, lay a green sugarquill. 
had my friends stopped by while i slept?
it didn’t particularly make sense though, since you agreed to meet up with them later tonight when you headed back to the castle. 
you picked it up, then noticed the note it had been sitting on.
sorry, i shouldn’t have said any of that earlier.  found you sleeping, don’t beat yourself up. you can do this. i remember sugarquills help you focus, right? don’t worry, it’s not poisoned or anything… goodluck on monday.
your heart squeezed painfully. his short message spoke volumes.
yang jungwon wasn’t one to apologise, seeing as he either never felt bad, or never really did anything wrong (in the eyes of everyone else).
you felt guilty too, seeing as it was your fault as well. you made a mental note to apologise to him in person later.
secondly, this was the first time he ever acknowledged the time you spent together in 5th year. it surprised you, because at this point you wondered if he had forgotten about it, or if it was all some sick dream you had.
heat rushed to your face and you had to put considerable effort into keeping your composure and not kick your feet and screaming right then and there. somehow, he’d remembered such a small detail about the sweet he left for you.
maybe the whole 5th year incident affected him more than he let on. maybe there really was something that happened between you guys.
or maybe you’re just being hopeful again. 
one thing you’re sure about though, is that yang jungwon is most certainly crazy.
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“welcome back everyone!” you greeted.
it’s the first prefect meeting of the term, everyone who left for the winter break having just returned two days prior.
“we have quite a bit to discuss today,” you started, before looking at jungwon to continue.
“let’s start with the more interesting news first.” he paused, looking at everyone before going on.
“me and the head girl have been planning something this winter, and with the approval of the headmaster, we can finally reveal it to you: the spring ball.”
you watched proudly as the prefects began whispering amongst themselves excitedly. you were so hyped up to be able to plan and make the event come to life.
“we wanted to give the students something more exciting to look forward to. you know- before OWLs and NEWTs completely take over our lives,” you joke, pulling chuckles out of everyone in the room.
“the idea is a formal, floral-themed event that’ll take place in the great hall. it’s only for 5th years and up, but younger years may attend if invited as a date.”
“since you guys are prefects, we’re asking for your help setting up the event. let’s talk ideas for decoration,” you say, pulling out your tablet to take notes.
as you wrote down the prefects’ thoughts and input, you were already drafting a schedule in your mind for preparations. that was until, you felt someone lean over your shoulder.
forcing yourself to keep writing, you tried to ignore the way your shoulder brushed against yang’s chest. one hand holding onto the backrest of your chair whilst the other lay on the table, next to your arm as you wrote on autopilot, your mind circuiting at the proximity. straightening your back in an attempt to compose yourself, you only push yourself against the boy more.
you were sure your face was as red as a tomato. your heart was beating so hard you were scared jungwon could hear it.
judging by the way he huffed in amusement, he probably realised the effect he had on you. 
“focus, kim,” he whispered so only you could hear, leaning lower to your level. you could imagine the smirk on his face.
“i am,” you tried to say with as much nonchalance as you could.
honestly, the moment was really reminding you of all those times he’d helped in the library. deja vu was really hitting you hard right now.
the rest of the meeting went smoothly - at least, as smooth as it could be with yang constantly flustering you as he subtly kept grazing your skin. 
now that you think about it, jungwon’s been acting strange lately. more… bold? that’s the best way you could explain it.
you don’t know how it happened, but ever since the hogsmeade trip, you two got closer. after you apologised to him, the incident in question was never spoken of again, never referred to. but it’s clear something shifted in your relationship with the head boy.
gradually, he began to fill up your everyday life, seeing him more often in the day than you used to.
in the mornings, you’d bump into each other in the common room after getting ready, and go down to the great hall for breakfast together. or, if one of you seemed to be running late after breakfast, you’d make sure to save some food and leave it in the common room for the other.
in the day, you two shared free periods, and so spent it lounging in the common room, simply doing work at the coffee table or reading a book on the couch. music would play in the background as you two sat in comfortable silence, basking in each other’s company.
in the evenings, you might come back from a late class to find him napping on the couch. so you’d shake him awake with a “jungwon, let’s go get dinner.”
you could be studying in the library corner of your shared living space, and he’d always remind you to eat. even when it was past any meal time, he’d drag you off the chair for a trip to the kitchens, where he’d get a house elf to make you two a snack. he often asked for eclairs, noticing it was your favourite.
but yang jungwon didn’t just take up your daily activities, he was always on your mind too.
thoughts of how he wouldn’t like the cold dim lights of the slytherin common room, or seeing students that he’s told you he isn’t particularly fond of floated in your mind when you visited your friends.
you even found yourself comparing him to characters in whatever series you absorbed yourself in. you seriously couldn’t stop thinking about him.
the fights stopped completely, but you two continued your flirting friendly banter all the time.
once, you managed to find time in your busy schedule to sit down and watch barbie movies. jungwon (when did you even start calling him that?) had walked in to the common room to find his bag which he had left there, only to see you huddled up in a blanket while watching barbie as the island princess magically projected onto the wall.
“what’s this?” he’d asked.
“muggle movies from my childhood. this girl here grew up on the island when one day, she was found by a prince who was intrigued by her, and brought her back to the city, where she finally learns who she really is,” you explained while keeping your eyes trained on the projection.
“and who is she really?”
“why don’t you sit down and watch, kitty?” you’d always called him by that nickname during your petty fights, since his face reminded you of a cute cat. now though, it became more of an endearing nickname for the boy.
“i have to write 10 inches on the use of the lumos solem spell by tuesday.”
“that’s 5 days away! come on, don’t you wanna know? it’s really good, i promise. we can watch from the start, and i’ll help you with that charms essay, since professor song assigned it to us to, and i already got started on it,” you asked, twisting to face him with the best pleading look you could muster.
“fine, but only because you begged," he relented with a playful smile.
so that’s how you ended up binging barbie movies into the wee hours of the morning, sharing a blanket with your proclaimed enemy on the sofa.
“you honestly look more like serafina,” you tease him.
“what? but she’s a girl! wouldn’t wolfie be a better fit?”
“but serafina has more cat-like eyes! you guys have similar eyes.”
“are you serious right now? they’re both cats!” he gestures to the movie, paused at the last scene.
“but you really look like her!” you insist, using both hands to point at each corner of his eyes, shifting closer to him. “they’re upturned.”
“didn’t realise you knew that about me, babe.” he wrapped his own hands around your wrists, as they hovered above his face. “if i’m serafina, you must be wolfie.”
“why? because we’re partners in crime?” you snorted at his suggestion. “they get married at the end and have a bunch of little kitties too. you want that?”
“if that’s what you’d like,” he shrugged, his lips pulling into a downwards smile.
you stared at him incredulously, heartbeat suddenly pounding as you looked into the growing smug look on his face. his eyes that managed to shine even in the dark never failed to root you on the spot, unable to look away.
what were you feeling? you've looked at jungwon so many times over the past 5 years, but the boy's gaze never made you feel like this way before. like you were floating on air; like you could do anything with him by your side, looking at you like that.
in fact, thinking back to all your years of knowing him, it's funny how much things have changed in the past several months.
you actually giggle a bit, sitting back, further from his warmth. you immediately miss the soft touch of his fingers around your wrists.
"what are you laughing about?" he asks, but he's laughing too.
"you. me; us."
"are we comedians now or something?"
"no, but we're definitely clowns of the circus." jungwon grinned at your statement, an amused huff escaping his lips.
"penny for your thoughts?"
"i was just thinking... how did we go from having wars in the middle of DADA in 3rd year, to watching muggle barbie movies at 2am on a saturday?" you think out loud.
"when you put it like that... we do sound like the comedy act of a show," he admits, scratching the back of his neck.
"at least i do."
"what do you mean?" you ask, shifting your position on the couch to sit up. you move your cold feet so they rest between jungwon's ankles, soaking in their warmth.
"our little feud - you know, the fights, the hexes, all that. it was all because of me."
"what? no it wasn't - i instigated a lot of them too," you say, trying to reassure him. was he feeling guilty and blaming himself?
"but, it was! honestly, if it wasn't for my stupid shallow thinking, we might've been friends way earlier." you looked at him patiently, nodding for him to continue.
"i used to think that muggle-borns were stupid and would fall behind in everything - school, work, just because you had no idea of how our world worked. honestly, i pitied and felt sorry for you guys, because i thought you could never be on our level. i know now how ignorant i was, obviously," he scoffed at himself.
"so when i met you, i thought you were an idiot. you are, don't get me wrong-" he teased you, causing you to roll your eyes, although smiling lightly. "but even though you're muggle-born, you always managed to do better than me.
"you were constantly the best student in our year- no, our school. you were faster at understanding concepts than i was, immediately getting things right on the first try. hell, even when i would go flying on the pitch to relieve my stress and then got recruited into the ravenclaw team in third year, i finally thought i was better than you at something. and then you joined your team in 4th, and was called the 'ace' of slytherin. what a blow all of that to was to my ego."
"i joined the team to annoy you," you shyly admit. "but why did you even think that in the first place?" you asked, not angry. you wanted to hear him out and finally get answers to questions you've asked yourself for so many years. you wanted to understand, and know the boy in front of you.
"well, you know that my father's company is successful. so growing up, i was given the best. my parents hired the best tutors for me, so i'd be ahead of everyone else when i started hogwarts. my teachers said i was their best student, my parents showed me off to their friends as their 'pride and joy' or something dumb like that. other parents compared their kids to me, i was that kid.
"i knew i was privileged though - that i had money and could afford to have this good education. so i made the best of it and constantly told myself that others would be lucky to have my life, so i wanted to prove i was worthy of it by working hard and pushing myself all my life.
"but with that, i developed the mindset that people who don't have money like i do can't have as much knowledge as me since they don't have access to it - and that included muggle-borns. you had zero knowledge of this world, which works incredibly different to yours. we have different moral compasses; notions of common sense; understanding of how things worked.
"so imagine how surprised i was to find that you were doing better than me in school. me, who had sat beside a tutor since i was 6, who was learning OWL content at 12. all this only for a girl who didn't even know magic existed until a month before to top me in school.
"that's why i was always angry; i was angry with my tutors for not teaching me better; at you for being better. but most especially at myself. for deluding myself into thinking that way." you two were silent for a moment.
"what changed?" you asked.
jungwon breathed in, preparing himself.
"5th year. i was finally learning to respect you, so when i walked into the library that was full of students, you seemed like the best option to sit next to."
"really? still hadn't gotten over that 'i'm better than everyone blah blah blah' attitude?" you asked, smugly tilting your head to the side.
"shush," he hid his face. "but... i got to learn how hard you really worked back then. i used to think you just had some gift for learning. but watching you with your head down for hours, i felt like i was discrediting all that with something like 'innate talent'.
"i went back home that summer confused and having a mid-life crisis at 16. my dad talked to me though, knocked some sense into me.
"he said that just because muggles don't know magic, doesn't mean they can't do anything. i mean, the whole idea of smart devices that our company is literally known for was taken from muggles! without you guys, we wouldn't have that in our world either. you created it, we just used magic to expand it.
"i was pretty shaken up after that, and was in a daze when 6th year started. it took me a while to sort my thoughts out and gather myself."
it was silent for a while, now nearing 3am.
jungwon just spilled out his guts to you, in the dim atmosphere of your common room. now you were the one collecting your thoughts.
"i'm sorry too."
"what? you never did anyth-"
"but i basically did the same thing as you. you studied for years and years, and i just always thought you were also naturally smart; that you never needed to study like i did because you already knew it all."
silence enveloped the two of you once again.
"...so i guess we're more similar than we thought, huh?" he smiled softly at you. you felt like you were floating again.
"i guess so."
jungwon unfolded his legs and opened his arms out as a gesture, which you gladly accepted and fell into his embrace.
"so, are we good now?" you asked.
"hmm, i still feel like you owe me something for all those years of endless anger and feeling like shit."
"you mean for enlightening you that we stupid muggles aren't so stupid?" you asked, face still buried in his chest, your voice muffled against his sweatshirt. "shouldn't you owe me? for teaching you a lesson?"
"but i want something," he pouted, pulling on your wrist.
"what is it? as long as its affordable."
"is going to the spring ball with me affordable?"
you turn your head to look up at him, who's looking down at you with shy eyes, waiting for your answer.
"i don't know... how much does it cost?" you play along. you already know your answer anyway.
"it'll cost you about..." he pulled out the calculator app on his phone, pretending to add up a total. "one kiss."
you laughed at him, finally pulling away from his arms.
"was that at the end of 5th year not enough?"
"no," he pouted, eyebrows knitted. so cute, you thought.
"alright then, but is it okay if i pay you that hefty price later at the ball?" jungwon sighed dramatically, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.
"i guess... but the price might increase to 10."
"that's okay, i'll give you as many as you want, as long as the first one is special."
"i didn't know you were sentimental like that," he smirked at you, kissing your cheek. you shrugged nonchalantly, smiling at him.
"i didn't know you were so needy for kisses like that."
"touché," he laughed, dragging you in for another hug, cuddling you until you both fell asleep in each other's arms.
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since that night, you and jungwon gradually learned to be comfortable each other. and with the ball preparations, there was lots of opportunities to do so.
you realised that - without the hostility between you two, it was much easier to find compromises when you disagreed on something. jungwon did things differently from you, but listened to your thoughts and offered his too.
as the weeks went on, you found yourself looking forward to meetings with him, missing his presence when he wasn’t with you.
something in the way he’d nudge you lightly when you were worried about something, wrap his arm around you and squeeze your shoulder, or simply smile at you brightly with those cat-like eyes of his - they were all comforting.
the change in atmosphere didn’t go unnoticed by your friends either.
"what was that??" rei interrogated you when jungwon pulled you aside for the nth time this week.
"oh, he just wanted to talk about putting up decor later," you answer nonchalantly, taking a bite out of your toast.
"he has the same conversation with you practically every day," minji rolled her eyes.
"yeah, and i'm more surprised that you don't come ranting to us about every interaction you two have," hiyyih agrees, eyeing you suspiciously.
"well, i just grew up and matured," you try to defend yourself.
"if growing up and maturing means developing a crush, then yeah. you sure did." rei pauses before continuing. "is there something you aren't telling us?"
technically, yes. you weren't telling them about the development between you and jungwon - at least not yet. but you didn't exactly have a crush on the boy, in the sense that it was a one-sided thing and you were too shy to confess. but you didn't really want to tell them what was going on between you two, because you didn't know yourself.
were you and jungwon friends(-ish)? yes. but were you dating? no, definitely not. there's no doubt though that your strange, blurry, undefined relationship will develop soon enough, and you'd rather wait until everything's clear before telling your friends.
"she's not saying anything - something is definitely up!" hiyyih gasped excitedly, causing rei and minji to giggle, and you to shake your head.
you had noticed that jungwon seemed to always find reasons to talk to you, even if it's little things you've already discussed before, or silly simple questions like 'how's your day going?' or 'what barbie movie are we watching tonight?'
yeah, you two often found yourselves watching barbie movies late into a friday night.
you also ended up cuddling on the couch almost every evening after a long day of duties, particularly on patrol nights. after your rounds, you two would head back up to the head dormitories, where you'd flop onto the couch, and he'd jump onto you soon after.
the others would go crazy if they ever found out, you laugh to yourself.
the next day would be the night of the ball, so you were pretty wrapped up in helping out throughout the day.
"everything's set up," haerin, a 5th year gryffindor prefect told you.
"it looks really good," you tell her, looking at the great hall. it looked great now, and you were excited for how it would turn out in the dark of the night later.
"did you manage to complete the spell?" she asked curiously.
"i did, but i'm only 89.7% sure it'll work," you say, biting your lip. you hated not being completely sure about something, like an answer, or in this case - a self-made spell.
you turn when you hear a laugh behind you.
"i like how you have a specific percentage even when it comes to feelings," jungwon says through a grin. "your brain works weirdly"
"whatever, kitty," you roll your eyes light heartedly at him.
facing the great hall again, you take a deep breath as you cast the spell on the great hall, chanting the incantation as you wave your wand.
in a moment, the hall was filled with falling petals of different colours, though they didn't litter the ground messily, simply disappearing when they reached the ground. vines reached out from between the tiled floor, wrapping around table legs and growing bright vibrant flowers of their own. small orbs of light flickered throughout the ceiling, like fairies illuminating the scene.
"wow, it looks amazing, y/n!" one of the professors helping around praised.
"it really does," jungwon says, snaking his arm around your waist, his hand clinging onto your side snuggly.
"thank you," you mumble, as you both look up at the pretty scene in front of you.
soon, night falls and you're running down the staircase with your friends, holding up the ends of your dress to avoid stepping on it.
"careful y/n! or you might trip!" you hear hiyyih call out from behind you.
"she's just excited to see her prince charming," minji laughs, but the three of them are also running, holding up their own dresses.
the doors of the great hall open, revealing the breathtakingly decorated room, some guests already having arrived at the scene.
"wow, this is amazing..." rei gasped, enchanted by the way coloured lights perfectly illuminate the hanging wisteria flowers, and butterflies fluttering throughout the room.
"you seriously outdid yourself. how did you even do this?" hiyyih asked.
"only y/n could make a spell as complicated as this," jungwon's voice says, announcing his presence. "you look good, by the way," he adds when you look at him.
a quick one-over of his look tonight does not do him justice. so you find yourself staring unashamedly at his figure.
the way his waistcoat hugs his figure emphasises his broad shoulders, something you didn't even realise you found attractive until you saw it on him. a red tie lazily tucked into the waistcoat plus the rolled-up sleeves - it all made your mind go haywire.
"you would know, having been subjected to all the spells she's made over the years," hiyyih laughs at the memory.
"didn't know you spent so much time thinking about me, kim," he goaded.
"oh trust me, she def-" you cut rei off by covering her mouth with your gloved hand.
"thanks, jungwon," you say quickly, giving him a smile and pushing your friends away.
"he was flirting with you!" rei loudly whispers into your ear.
"and what do you want me to do about it!" you say, making sure your friends couldn't see the deep blush on your face.
"flirt back!" minji huffs out exasperatedly. "i'm sick and tired of whatever has been going on between you two for years!"
"yes, please just end it tonight! whether you get together or never talk about it again," rei rolls her eyes.
"what?" you stop, looking at them.
"rei's right, although i'd prefer for you to finally get together."
"wait wait wait, what do you mean?"
"are you being for real right now? you two have clearly had a thing for each other this whole time!" rei says like it was obvious. "we've known it for years."
"go get your man!" hiyyih sighs, turning you by your shoulders and pushing you away this time.
you try not to dwell on the thought of your friends betting on your relationship with jungwon, and pretend you never heard a word come out of their mouths.
soon, the headmaster calls for everyone's attention.
"welcome students!" his voice echoes throughout the hall, the music quietening for his speech. "first and foremost, i want to thank this year's head girl and boy for organising such an event for us. give it up for kim y/n and yang jungwon!" he shouts, a spot light highlighting your two figures in the room. you quickly turn to look at jungwon, who looks back at you with a smile, as everyone claps loudly, some even whistling supportively.
"and with that, may the spring ball begin - with the spring dance, kicking off with the head boy and girl leading the first dance," professor si-hyuk ends his speech.
everyone cheers and makes way for you two on the dance floor, which magically raises up in the middle of the hall.
music begins to play as you face the head boy, who inches closer to you every second.
time slows as he places his hand on your hips, guiding your hand to his shoulders. all other noise is drowned out by the sound of your heart, pounding so hard it might come out your chest. you don't see anyone but yang jungwon.
and he's looking at you like he sees no one else but you either.
it's crazy, how you're here, dancing, in the arms of the person who you've hated since 1st year - who motivated you to work hard during all these years.
you think back to your first meeting with him.
you could imagine the sparkles in your eyes as you stare at everything in awe, still in disbelief.
last month, a weirdly-dressed person knocked at your front door, and told your parents that you were a witch.
of course, you hadn't believed her at first, until she pointed her wand at a decorative figurine and made it float upside down. you and your family had been absolutely floored and confused. how could something like that even happen?
last month, the weirdly-dressed lady described to you a world that sounded fictional, of magic and creatures you could never even imagine. she explained why you had all these weird happenings growing up, things that were simply unexplainable.
your world was turned upside down in a few moments, and now you were here, on a train, to a magical school.
of course, you were incredibly sad to be away from your family for the first time in your life, but you were assured that you still had many ways to connect with them. and so, you set off into a new world completely alone, but with a lot of excitement.
you walked around the compartments as the train set off, peering and saying hi to other students.
until, you bumped into a boy who had the prettiest eyes you've ever seen, and the cutest little dimple that had 11-year old you's heart melting.
"be careful and look where you're going," he says nonchalantly.
"i'm so sorry! i was just so excited - i mean, aren't you? could you ever believe magic exists? i won't until i try it for myself!" you ramble enthusiastically.
you trail off when you see him looking at you with a mix of pity and boredom.
"oh, so you're a muggle-born, huh?"
"what do you mean?" you ask confusedly.
"well, whatever you think, i'm not like you. i already know what you just learned, and i already know what you still have to learn," he shrugs, picking at his nails like he ha better things to do than talk to you. "sorry, i think you're going to struggle a little bit here," he simply says, and leaves you alone in the middle of the train corridor.
what the hell? you ask yourself.
snobby rich kids isn't something you thought you'd experience in the wizarding world, but i guess somethings are just universal, huh?
something about the way he looked at you; talked to you like you were below him though - it bugged you.
"i'm gonna struggle?" you ask yourself in disbelief. absolutely not, you didn't want him to be right. you'll make sure of it.
and so, you ran back to your own compartment and pulled out your books, making a resolution to study everything and make sure you knew all the content. you wanted to show whoever that kid is that he's wrong, that you're better than him.
and so, the rest of the long ride and even your first night was spent catching up on what you missed out on, making sure you were prepared for whatever this extraordinary world would throw at you.
and most especially, preparing for whatever trouble the boy, who's name you learned was yang jungwon would give you.
gradually, more people join the dance, but you're so entranced by the boy in your arms, you don't notice how he's whisked you away from the main dance floor.
now towards the side of the room, away from all attention, jungwon looks down at you with all the love in his eyes.
it's overwhelming, you can't escape your emotions anymore. you like jungwon, possibly even more. you feel like all these feelings are about to burst out of you, and jungwon's arms are the only thing keeping you together.
"y/n, i think you still owe me something," he whispered, his face dangerously close to yours.
"and what would that be?" you naturally retort, having developed the instinct to talk back when it came to him.
"don't play with me, please let me kiss you."
"i don't think so." you pause teasingly, trying not to giggle at his pout, his dimple coming out. "let me kiss you," you say, finally leaning in, sealing your lips.
it felt just like the one back in 5th year, but better. jungwon held you impossibly closer by the waist, as if fearing you would run away. but you won't, and you never will. because in his arms, you never felt as safe and comfortable in your own skin as you did then.
you finally part for air, but jungwon's eyes never strayed from your face.
"i lied earlier by the way, when i said you looked good." you raise your eyebrows at him questioningly, before he smiles cheekily at you. "you look like the stars that put me to sleep every night."
"i didn't know you were poetic like that," you laughed lightly, leaning your forehead on his chest. "you look like my boyfriend."
"that's because i am," he says pulling you in for another kiss.
you don't think you'll ever get tired of kissing him. it's an unforgettable moment, and an unforgettable night.
you never knew you were missing something until you met jungwon, and you think you can finally breathe with him next to you (and your friends passing riki 20 galleons each two tables away). 
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; author's corner! hii this was inspired by all the jily fics i've read over the years (whew i didn't even realise how long i've been reading fanfiction...) LMAO anyways may irls never find out this acc belongs to me bc my realistic self barfed at what i just wrote but my delulu self was kicking and giggling while editing but i hope you enjoyed!
; taglist @wonuslust @enhacatalog @makiswrld @forjungwons @yebin14 @lovelovelovebts @amanda-archives @beomgyusonlywife @bbinwrld@em-asian @enhamysunshines @ahnneyong @jungwonscafe bold couldn't be tagged!
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yenqa · 5 months
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ADVANTAGES ☆
in which…
on jay’s live, fans point out a stuffed animal on his bed, one that seems to be the other piece to your notorious missing pair. as imaginary pieces start to connect for fans, the viewers beg for some kind of interaction. and though you and jay have never met before, why not use this situation to your advantage?
pairing – streamer!jay x fem!reader
genre – strangers to lovers, this is not fake dating (sorry guys), kind of forced proximity, streamer au, short smau (20 chapters), little angst mostly fluff
warnings – swearing, slut shaming, romance stuff, food/eating, kms/dying jokes, haters, warnings are stated in each chapter!
featuring – jay, jake, sunghoon, y/n (duh), hyeju, fans
disclaimer – i am not saying this is an accurate representation of these idols or trying to sexualize them at all. this just something i do for fun.
taglist – CLOSED, ty for being interested!
yenqa – hey guys! i love streamer aus and jay so here this is 🙏
status – FINISHED! 11/10/23-03/18/24, slow updates <3
perm taglist – @jwnghyuns @ja4hyvn @trsrina @redm4ri @badmuni @yeokii @enhastolemyheart @softpia @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @boyfhee
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PLEASE NO SPAM LIKING
profiles
001 – soulja boy
002 – like bluejay.
003 – OUR girlfriend
004 – 93 hour mewing streak
005 – losing hearing in my left eye
006 – The other woman 💔💔
007 – green hair – 1028 words
008 – me next
009 – who is pina colada.
010 – LIAR ALERT 🚨
011 – stupid question – 1019 words
012 – CASHMERE*****
013 – about that…
014 – until i met you
015 – i’m sorry that i couldn’t be your teenage dream. – 1829 words
016 – damage control 😜
017 – roode
018 – Get off my twitter.
019 – mhm.
020 – peace - 1145 words
021 – New look.
022 – happy birthday!
epilogue – just got married <3
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yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.
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