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#star squared au
leclercskiesahead · 6 months
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Ferrari gala New York 17.10.23
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baylardian-1 · 8 months
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Picked @jellybeansarecool's brain a little bit about the First Contact mentioned at the end of Liam Squared. :)
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littleladymab · 6 months
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I'm doing a few of the SW-Tober prompts by @fanfoolishness and @dankfarrikdrabbles which you can find the list here. This is mostly an excuse to clear out a few old drabble requests, WIPs, and AU ideas I have had kicking around.
So saying, I have a bunch of ideas kicking around for a modern AU that the GC and I have been tossing into a doc so that when do-may-stic rolls around next year I can just go Modern AU Crazy.
13. Night - aka Ezra's first night in the Spectre's house (after Kanan caught him trying to pick his pocket). I have more for this written up technically, but I think I'll save it for later, so you get just the Ezra portion.
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A house that isn’t empty is silent in a way that is wholly unfamiliar to Ezra. It’s not silent in the way that the city at 2AM is silent — where all the sounds of other living people are distant and muffled as if under a blanket. 
He lies on top of the still-made bed and stares up at the ceiling as the fan blades spin round and round and round in the dark and listens to the house. 
Snores from across the hall. The wind chimes on the porch as the breeze picks up. The gentle thud as the cat scurries from one end of the house to the other. 
He can’t believe he agreed to this.
This was absolutely stupid and he’s crazy for doing this but every ounce of self preservation seemed to flee the moment Kanan said I remember what it’s like and meant it. 
Ezra has heard many platitudes over his years, some more honest than others, but Kanan offered him something better. And not just the meal and the roof over his head — even if just for a night, or as long as he wants it — but for that look of understanding. The way he picked his friend’s pocket just to prove a point. 
What Kanan offered was the vision that a better future is possible. He told Ezra that he’d been on his own for eight years before he met Hera. Now, they’ve been together for six and he’s been sober for three of those. 
And Ezra, who is only fourteen, honestly can’t fathom his life that far ahead. He’s lived day to day for seven years already, that it’s hard to conceive any further than the next week. 
So being offered a place to stay, for as long as you want it, seems absolutely surreal. How long is as long as you want it? Is the limit dependent on him, or do Kanan and Hera have a calendar in the back of their minds — a limited resource of patience for him and kids like him? 
Somehow, after meeting everyone in the household, Ezra doubts that they would kick him out, and that is both more terrifying and comforting at the same time. Zeb, the big guy who is older than both Kanan and Hera but doesn’t really act like it, has been with them for five years. Sabine, barely older than Ezra, has been here for two. 
If he wants to stay, Ezra’s pretty sure they’ll let him. 
He presses the heels of his hands over his eyes and inhales deeply, exhales slowly. He’ll give it a few days, he reasons as he tries to calm the sudden spike in his heart rate at the idea. See what they ask of him in return for hospitality. 
Maybe they’ll teach him how to drive, the way that they’re teaching Sabine. He never thought about the possibility. 
Eventually, Ezra wriggles his way under the blankets and folds his hands over his chest. If he tilts his head to the side, he can see his backpack propped up on the table beneath the window. Hera had left a pyramid of folded towels and old clothes of Kanan’s he could change into, and a pile of granola bars and some other weird healthy snacks he couldn’t identify. 
Everything ready for him if he decides to grab and go in the middle of the night. 
Instead, he closes his eyes against the image and instead listens to the silence of the house at night. Of the snores across the hall. Of the wind chimes on the porch. Of the cat scratching at some piece of furniture. 
Eventually, Ezra falls asleep.
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itstimeforstarwars · 2 years
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Wip Saturday! from the Galidraan au:
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"I heard you’ve been having a rough couple of days, Ben,” the medic said. “You wanna talk about it?”
“No,” Obi-Wan mumbled.
“Okay,” the medic said. “How are you feeling?”
“Awful,” Obi-Wan said. Then, after a moment, he added, “and hungry.”
He’d learned to add that last part whenever he felt like he could eat in the medbay, because it made medics so much easier to deal with. But in this case, he actually was starving, even though he also felt awful. He might throw up whatever they gave him, but it was equally likely that eating would make him feel better.
“Do you have a stomacheache?” the medic asked.
Obi-Wan shook his head.
“Are you feeling nauseous at all?”
“A bit,” Obi-Wan admitted.
“Okay,” the medic said. “We have ration bars here, or if you’re feeling up to it, Myles made cunak’e bal ast’ehute.” [squares and fats]
“Cunak’e bal ast’ehute?!” Obi-Wan asked, unable to contain his wistfulness. He hadn’t tasted that since he was a kid, not properly. He’d found it a few times in restaurants across the galaxy, but none of them had ever tasted quite right.
The medic made a small chuckle. “I’ll get you a bowl,” they said.
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dabisbratz · 3 months
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𝑀𝐸𝑅𝐼𝒩𝒢𝒰𝐸 𝒟𝒪𝐿𝐿 — kento nanami x male!reader
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himbo!reader , farmer!au , strangers/friends/lovers , meet - cute , inaccurate farming techniques , lawyer!nanami , slow burn , depictions of injury ( minor burns ) , check - ins , dumbification , vaguely implied age gap (~5 years) , hand kink , inexperienced reader , light feminization , blowjobs , anal , mating press , fingering , hand-holding , praise , degradation , slut - calling , dirty talk , spit / drool , under-negotiated kink , aftercare
w.c; ~ 13.8k
sonny says. . . naaamiiii !!! {cry} {cry} mbaby :c can ybelieve s’is mfirst nami fic ?!?! just tbe clear, the reader’s size or height isn’t explicitly stated, but he’s vaguely hinted toward bein/appearin physical stronger than nanami.
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‘ Next stop: Sekichiku ’
When he wakes up, Kento expects sunlight peeking through greenery— warm, yellow rays of light that dance and flicker across his eyelids. Warm, yellow beams that caress his cheek like the knuckles of someone tender, the palms of someone sweeter. It’ll overwhelm him at first, so bright and unapologetic as his eyes adjust and focus, but he’ll quickly crash, pupils constricting as the disturbance dwindles. And, suddenly, the star’s saturation will be comforting. It’ll be like a second. Just slower paced, peaceful. He expects the rustle of leaves, connected to strong branches and even stronger roots that dig into deep, rich soil. He expects to roll over in his temporary bed, breathing gently beneath shade, shielding his eyes from the welcoming invasion and blanketing him in a seamless flow of cool air.
When he wakes, Kento expects to hear the chirping of birds. It’s never quite enough to hear them in Tokyo. The strum of wind as it tickles his nose and pushes him forward. The swaying of grass— the smell is still so freshly imprinted in his brain, as it makes his head swim while crystal drops glide across its surface — a coarse underfoot of greenery that prickles the souls of his feet.
Tranquility by his side, urging him to get out of bed, chirping in an excited voice as it tugs on his wrist. He expects solitude, rolling its tangerine eyes and tapping its foot impatiently, “This is the break you’ve waited twenty-seven years for.”
But, instead, he finds himself clutching his chest, his heart beating with an unfamiliar pace that isn’t so calm. His body feels cold, like he’s been submerged in the deepest part of the ocean, unrelenting and ruthless as wave after wave crashes into his ribcage. The static in his ears grows louder and louder, ready to combust and burst his eardrums. Instead of the rustle of leaves, the cruel hustle and bustle of city life storms forward against his chest, shoving him back and forth. Back and forth, to and fro, against his body as his knuckles turn white and his vision starts to spot. Back and forth, as he comes undone.
It’s been so long, he’s not quite sure just how to unwind.
He starts off slow, swallowing air in desperate heaps until his legs relax, spreading toward the cushion arms of his faux-velvet chair. Then he flexes his fingers, draws them into tight fists and releases the digits until the shaking has stopped. Sips his complimentary white-wine with newfound steadiness, and tries not to choke when the intercoms ring,
‘Now approaching: Sekichiku.’
It’s a quaint little village, your district, where everyone knows everyone and the news is always, no matter where you are, city-wide. Stone-clad pavement and moss decalled windows, there’s a small blanket of achroous fog further north of town square. Yet, despite that, there’s an ever growing city of greenery and agriculture. With a small population and himself being the only passenger to unload at the station, it seems to be a lot busier than he’d originally thought. Street-food stalls and vendors, selling freshly baked goods and syrupy, savory sweets. It’s not like Tokyo, no, there’s no rush. No pushing or shoving, no overcrowded lines, no smells of smoke and burnt coal.
In fact, the air is rather crisp— the further his legs take him, the more apparent. No longer are his lungs breathing in the stench of sickness or body odors, no longer is he pushing past the fortunate, just to shove the unfortunate. And, admittedly, it’s a bit of a culture shock— but it’s not unwelcome. Regardless, Kento keeps his suitcase close, pushes it forward, sidestepping polite smiles and local shop owners.
He basks in it. The genuine nature to it all, the healthy glow of the atmosphere despite the steam, the fog, the chill to the air. He considers this a luxury— the closest to a vacation he’ll get, even if he’s technically ‘on the clock.’ Still— he soaks in the sights of hugging trees, of mossy roads and cobblestone streets. The colorful banners that jump with life, the lanterns and yellow-lighting that illuminates the day— he’s sure at night they’re even more wondrous. And, oh, the smells. Not at all like tokyo— there isn’t an overwhelming mixture of perfumes and colognes, no fast-food chains competing through aromatic smells, no heavy scents of tobacco littering the air. It's crisp, it’s ripe.
He almost takes no offense to the collision against his side— nor the screeching sound of surfaces grinding against each other, nor the loud and abrasive cry of the man bumping into him, accompanied by the crack of an apple’s core against the ground.
“Woah,” Warm breaths pan down the base of his neck, even warmer hands wrapping around his bicep with strength Nanami is sure shouldn’t be normal for a typical, everyday civilian. He involuntarily grunts, a deep sound that rumbles in his throat and earns an eager, yet apologetic chuckle. “You alright? Y’almost went flyin’!”
His brows furrow quizzically at that. First— he’s certain it’s the latter who nearly lost an arm and a leg with his tumble. Second, he hadn’t expected such a youthful, bouncy voice from the very stature shadowing acast him. Not even a bit, it doesn’t match the muscle straining through thermal clothing at all, let alone the sheer square feet of area being taken up by one person. Blocking his vision almost completely, standing straight— at an angle— that blocks a stall for fresh produce and flaky, steaming bread. The goods speak for themselves, crusted over in golden brown mountains and cloud-like, moist cross-sections.
Swallowing, Kento nods, eyeing the poorly drawn sign for fresh bread. Drawn in sharpie, the prices are written in big, bold, red letters. Endearing, almost, the curve and loop of each letter and number— the lines of each to-scale doodle of bread. Nothing like Tokyo, not nearly as artificial, not perfectly clean-cut. Not so cookie-cutter. There’s some personality in it, as juvenile as it may be. And it’s a shame, really, how promising the stand looks. Apples that shine a golden shade of red, bread that’s glazed in a sweet, sticky layer of yellow molasses and savory honey. And though he’d love to indulge, Kento has yet to label himself as the type. “Great, thank you.” Is all he says, pulling his suitcase along the perimeter of the stand.
Some other time, then.
The days are long as they are hard. The sun has yet to fully set, and still, the Earth pulls and pulls to weigh it down onto your shoulders. The sky is painted in hues of orange and purple, strokes of tangerine and lavender roaming past your bird's eye view. Your back pops as you stretch, arms tensing against the woven basket of leftover harvest, shiny red fruits aligned with the horizon and reaching toward the tiny glimpse of departing stars.
Where blossoms grow from tiny seeds, and orchids dance in gentle breeze— beds upon beds of farmland and agriculture drape the outskirts of the farmstead. Though the weather is turning, branches are starting to grow bare and bloom in color, the wind picks up its seasonal chill, and the clouds have begun to dissipate into the sky. . . The well-received proof of your hard work is still something to behold.
“—ome any minute, now,” You’ve heard it all before, your mother gossiping to her farmer-wife friends as she nurses sweet teas and tangerine tiramisu under her calloused, warm hands. You’d been a mere two steps away from where she sits at the open-island kitchen, shoes tipped in the illuminated speckle of celadon clearing just adjacent to the sliding, front, cedarwood door. “Said so, at least. Did you hear. . . ” Windchimes sing in welcome, soft and mellow as the door opens and shuts behind you, socked feet slipping from boots to warm, fuzzy slippers.
“M’back, Mama,” You mumble, half-humming along to the tune of muffled windchimes the further you walk, arms hoisting the overflowing basket up to your chest. A sweet sigh, then pitter-patter of fleece against parquetry, and the discovery of a sweet, cherry-red ladybug walking along your knuckles, leads to the basket securely placed on a free countertop. There’s a quirk of her brow, something of a gentle question— more of a suggestion— not completely committed to keeping two conversations at once. How’d it go?
“No luck sellin’ today,” your voice buds, small and soft as your eyes trail the curves of a particularly large waste of an apple. An evident pout on your lips, then a quiet huff of air.
Farming has been your whole life, really. It’s what you’re best at, good at. Ever since you were young, barely tall enough to push away tall-grass— barely strong enough to pull out weeds, you knew it was yours. Something special, gravel crumbling and breaking beneath heavy, solid boots and rubber tires. The remnants of small, flying rocks, pelting into each other and leaving behind white, gray smoke as your tractor comes to a slow, gradual halt.
“But I met someone new!” That peaks her attention, nothing short of a gasp coming from a pair of lips—identical to your own— and here come the questions. Was he blond? Oh, I knew it! Did he buy anything? Well, why not? Was he tall? Thought so. . . How about handsome? Come on, now. .
“He was . . hmm, pretty.” Is how you’d like to put it, raising a finger to the air in finality. Truth be told you don’t remember much about his appearance— it was more so his demeanor. He’d bumped into you— you think— and yet, there was something so smooth about him. Not even his slicked hair, wavy at the end and curved just right to frame his face and bleed into the bristles of his blond undercut. He’d carried on like it was nothing, still polite, even admired your handiwork on your stall’s banner. A sweet thing of a stranger.
“You’re so easily impressed,” The smile dusting your lips curls into a wee, nasty little frown. That’s just not true. “A good thing, too, you’ll have to like our new neighbor.”
Her voice melting through one ear and out the other like freshly harvested honey has your throat tied into a thick knot, stuck right at the base of your neck and only growing in size. Hands thrumming against the granite countertop, your body leans inward.
“Neighbor?”
“Mm,” She hums, landline trapped between her ear and sweater-clad shoulder. You’re not entirely sure if it’s toward you or her friend, either way, her conversation stays ambiguous. “I heard he’s some fancy lawyer. You think he’s defendin’ the Hasaba girls from last year?”
That’s something to think about. Two little girls who’d been found locked away by some sort of— police officer, was he? Perhaps something more authoritative, and taken into his personal care. You wouldn’t be surprised if it became legalized— you’d only met that man (Suguru Geto, was it?) in passing, but his stature seemed dead-set on protecting those girls.
There’s a muffled gasp on the other line, crackly with static as a finger twirls around the phone’s coiled, mint wire. The rest of the conversation goes unheard, slippered feet carrying you to the large, alcove window that displays just enough equal farmland and neighborhood housing. And, sure enough, as if on cue, it’s not hard to make out the lines and shadows of the ‘ fancy ’ lawyer, his fluid silhouette effortlessly carrying luggage and— what looks to be— a box of books. Documents, perhaps.
“You didn’t— how come you didn’t say nothin’ ?!” Your excitement has you toppling over, limbs every which way as your face presses into the glass window. When you’re stuck in a place where everyone knows everyone, there’s something exhilarating about having a new neighbor. And he knows nothing.
There’s a quiet mumble that roughly translates to: ‘You didn’t ask.’, but it’s filtered out by the sound of your full-footed stomps. You opt to keep your slippers, racing toward the neglected basket, mind completely set. “I’ll be back, Ma!”
The path along your house isn’t dangerous, but it is harsh on bare feet— inured by heavy boots and pick-up trucks.. Still, it goes completely ignored as you carry the heaviest basket of goods you own, anxiety twisting and turning in your stomach— bunny hops into your chest and stomps and stomps and stomps. You’ve carried yourself past the intersection of the cobblestone path, a lot more smooth the closer it gets to the large, usually untouched, rental home. The lights are off— save for the dim, yellow glow of a small porch lamp resting above an unsullied, sleek and wooden rocking-chair. When there’s no one to inhabit the home, it’s always been comforting to look at— but now? .
Cold would be one way to put it. Your feet are cold, your arms are cold, your hands are cold, and you’re stood at his front door— frozen. Scared is another.
Even so, you’ve always been told you’re the ‘bravest boy’ in your whole district. Cry-baby habits and all.
The door opens before you can knock, and all you can register is brown. Brown wallpaper— the beige type, just barely meeting the requirement. Patterned with old, vintage looking floral prints. Brown, sleek wood of a bannister— steps that lead down into the living room, but are visible from the front door. Brown eyes, such a specific shade. When exposed to the light they almost look gray— green?— but as he stands before you, there’s nothing but molten chocolate and burnt honey-candy. A brown leather belt, securing crisp slacks and an equally crisp button up. You expect to see brown loafers, but—
Fuzzy slippers, brown and soft and cute. Little black buttons for eyes, and two floppy, fluffy ears— reminiscent of a bunny.
“Oh. . . Can I help you?” You’ve heard it before, his voice, but it’s even more striking than ever. It’s easy to forget the voice of someone you’d just met, but there’s something so. . distinct about it. He’s got a slight accent, too, something Tokyo-adjacent— you’ve always wanted to visit for longer than the feeble four hours of a busy work-trip.
“Mhm!” Pretty lips spread to their best grin, pulling at your cheeks until the babyfat wells up. “Well, no— um, actually. .” Brown eyes are expectant, but calm and patient as they watch you fumble over your words. Your fingers tremor as the basket is thrusted forward, heat blooming in your cheeks. “These— This is for you!”
“Ah. . .” Pink lips part, cupid’s bow prominent. There’s a beat of silence, then the sound of his front door closing with a slight click— right in your face. For a moment all you can do is stare, eyes boring into the dark, chestnut wood of the rustic front door. Staring until it’s gone blurry, eyes bubbling with fresh, unshed tears. And, nearly spilling over like an overflowing faucet, they gather before you can blink them away— fat and thick and embarrassing.
“Um. . I like your sli—slippers.” Fully aware you’re speaking to an unmoving door, you can’t behind yourself to walk back the moss-decalled path home. It’s not so cold anymore, your bones having rung out in the, metaphorical, hot sun until they’ve dried completely and— now it’s warm. Warmth in your nose, stinging as you sniffle and bite down a hiccup.
“Sorry for the wait,” Mahogany shifts, offset by a deep rumble of a voice, smooth like velvet in comparison to the sharp, slow creak of door hinges, “Here.”
Dam rebuilt almost immediately, your body straightens. Him again, this time his eyes trained on what he holds in his hand. Brown and gold like sweet honey and, by God, it’s the most crisp set of yen you’ve ever held in your life. His fingers dance with fluidity you’ve never seen before, counting through each slip until he’s deemed an amount satisfactory— there’s a slight patch of hair on each of his knuckles, an array of veins that cascade into his forearm. His fingertips look a bit rough, but his nails are glossy and clipped. Even his cuticles are pushed back, just enough to look healthy and natural.
“Oh! I wasn’t trying to—”
“I know it’s rude to tip, so I left the exact change,” You blink. Once, twice— again, lips parted like a fish, fresh out of water. Then he’s hoisting the basket from your trembling hands, eyes downcast. “Next time, don’t give out things you worked for, for free,” Right where his eyes dip, his monolid, there’s a small mole— cute and circular, and had you not been studying the curves of his face you wouldn’t have noticed it. “You should wear a coat, too.” And, like a schoolboy, you can’t help the flurry of butterflies catching flight in your stomach.
“Yes, Sir,” Pearly whites biting at the fleshy, pink insides of your cheek have your lips puckered, pensive and sweet as you clutch the money to your chest. “Sorry about earlier— um, if it’s okay, I could help with your boxes?”
He leans forward, careful enough to keep the respective bubble of space between the two of your bodies, glancing at heavy, book-piled boxes labeled ‘N.K.’ The woven basket creaks under the weight of his chest, but it stays in one place nonetheless. “That?” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s fine, just mail. Must’ve arrived before I did.”
It’s a bit awkward, really. Anticipation nips at your fingertips— you’ve never really had to work so hard to continue a conversation. You’ve never had to think about it either, if the words were coming out correct, if anyone was comfortable with your presence.
“Oh,” You breathe, subconsciously leaning closer. Perhaps it’s a miracle he hasn’t actually shut the door in your face, and— right. Your hands move to wipe away any streaks from your cheeks, a small sniffle ringing in the air. “Sorry f’I bothered you. I live, um, closest to the windmill. Yknow, just up the path from here. . . ?”
You haven’t known him for long, but you just can’t consider him comparable. Maybe it’s your heart speed-running past any other rational thought, maybe it’s the blooming heat in your chest, maybe it’s the shiver of winter trailing down your spine. You find yourself desperately hanging onto his every breath, only ever beaming when he shakes his head.
“Kento Nanami,” Tense shoulders relax with a deep inhale, the sweet smell of chocolate stuffed bread filling his nostrils. All that trepidation washes away, hushed under the breeze of Kento’s slow breaths. “Did you make these yourself?”
The door creaks, quiet and welcoming as Nanami extends an arm, stepping aside. Once his eyes finally settle on you they harden, just for a moment, as if he’s finally noticed the pull of your eyes— the crystalline seam tightlined around your waterline, the bright red strain of veins peeking behind your lids. Still, he says nothing, until you’ve introduce yourself with watery tremors.
“It’s cold, and you came all this way without a jacket?” Your eyes trace the vapor floating into the air as he sighs, irises dancing along the edge of your bare forearms. “Come in.”
Your muscles straighten up under his gaze, rippling until rigid as you eagerly nod, “Y’don’t think we could share some of that bread, d’you?”
The best time to farm, you’ve learned, is just after sunrise. The sun rests her head on grassy hills, still groggy and not quite awake yet, herself. But you are, suited up in your boots and overalls, not a single lantern in hand. That’s the first plus, natural lighting of the rising sun. The sweet, dim bath of light that paints the path from your home to your plantation in molten gold.
Then there’s Kento. You’d think he never sleeps, but you’ve seen it. Ritualistic, in a way. For the last two weeks, you’ve watched him go about his day. See, the window of your bedroom leads straight into his study, where he prefers a dimly lit lamp over the bright fluorescents. It’s almost hard to tell when he comes and goes, seeing as whenever you look, there he is. Sat in a swiveling chair and hunched over his desk, writing something in a notepad and skimming through— what looks to be— more documents on his computer.
You can only tell he’s going to bed once there’s a sigh, a pinch to the bridge of his nose before smoothing out his eyebrows, then the discarding of silver-frame, rectangular reading glasses. The lamp stays on, as if he knows he’ll be back in less than seven sleeping hours— which you think, for him, translates to roughly thirty minutes.
And, though he can’t see you, you always make an extra effort to wave up at his study, just before starting up your tractor.
You never expected him to wave back. You never expect his eyes to trail from your face to your supplies. And you, most certainly, never expect him to join you. Two thermal mugs in hand as he makes it over the small hill from his home to your own, past the thorn bushes and vacant tangerine trees. Hot chocolate— piping and rich, it coats your tongue in its sweetness and splashes against your lips with comforting warmth.
“Mm!” You hum, blowing through the small gap between the thermos and its sealed lid. You’d assumed your scarf, wrapped snug around your neck, would do the trick— keep you warm enough — but this seems to actually hit the spot. Sticky accents from remnants of unmelted marshmallows, its fluff clings to the corner of your lips. And Kento, nursing his own mug— though it contains tea— looks up to watch you grin, shards of tiny sugar crystals clinging to your pouty bottom lip.
“Hold still,” all but purring, his thumb swipes at your lip, wipes away the stickiness until they’ve parted— breathless. His eyebrows furrow with concentration, as if it’s a practiced habit, absentmindedly licking his thumb clean with one smooth, quick dart of his tongue.
“Sweet.”
Your breath circulates into the air, a swirl of white that dispels almost immediately. Your thoughts are cut short, breath stuck in your throat, eyes wide and glazed over with astonishment. “It’s— huh?”
“Sweet,” he chimes, lips curling around each letter. He’s beside himself, nearly forgetting who he is until the clear of his throat and a resigned grumble. “I can’t fathom how you manage to drink. . . radioactive waste from a cup.”
His humor is dry— something you have to think over for a moment before smiling against the lid of your cup. Kento notes how you smile— with your whole body— eyes closed tight and teeth on display, shoulders bunched and your stride much more bouncy. He tries not to smile when you giggle, hiding the lower half of your face behind the piping mug as your shoulders brush against his own. With each step the closer you get— to both the blond and your truck.
“It’s good,” Your voice lifts at the end of the statement, feigning offense as you lick your lips. Soft tongue against soft lips, Nanami partly wonders if you naturally taste as sweet as your preference for drinks. “M’not bein’ mean about yours!”
“I'm not being mean,” He corrects, a silent apology laced in his tone— just in case — and your knowing gaze lifts from his cup to his eyes, blazing bright and beautiful. He basks in your attention for a moment, like the gentle rays of a sun-swept island. Had this really been a vacation— no carry-on cases— he would’ve considered booking a flight to Malaysia.
First, he’s buckling you into your seat— it seems you’d forgotten, then he’s reminding you to put on your gloves, despite having bare hands of his own.
“You do this for a living,” is his justification, though you deemed it more a reason for him to wear the protective gear. “You wear them.”
And, now, he’s listening intently as you explain the mild inconvenience that is the technicalities that come with farming. He learns of your affinity to animals. Your slight, biased preference for gardening. The way your nose wrinkles when you think too hard, and the way you often forget what you were saying as you say it.
Though the scenery outside the passenger seat window is beautiful— valleys of faded green and brown, a light fog dusting the air. The symphony of crickets and cicadas, and of course, the sunset making its round up the horizon, teetering along the age of the Earth as it paints each and every blade of grass in its light.
He helps you out of the car as if you haven’t done it yourself a million times, careful not to spill your drink in his other hand. He’s awfully tender, too, his thumb absentmindedly circling the glove-clad skin of your knuckles as your hand squeezes his own. The door slams shut, and he doesn’t miss your expression twist as you whisper a small ‘oops, sorry!’ to your precious truck before unloading supplies.
Kento can’t name a thing— he’s out of his depths, here, but he helps anyway. He carries it down the never-ending row of cabbage and radish, watches his step despite nearly dismantling at least three dozen budding vegetables simultaneously. And you don’t yell at him once, instead offering words of sweet encouragement until you’ve found the place to start, dropping your assortment of tools and buckets.
“M’kay, ‘Nami,” He watches you drop to a crouch, warmth blooming in the apples of his cheeks. It’s not just the suggestive position, nor the way your pretty eyes look up at him from there— but it’s how sweet you say his name. . going as far as to give him a nickname, too.
Still, it manifests through the twitch of his eye, which you don’t catch onto, as he kneels alongside you.
“‘Nami—”
“No. It’s pronounced Nanami.” He interjects, his grip tight along the base of unsavory, frostbitten weeds— at least, that’s what he sees you doing anyway. Almost too tight, heavy and thick hands flexing, you can see the bend of his knuckles as his fingers dig into the roots.
“Na,”And, the smell of dirt, it’s so strong, the earthy undertones invade your nostrils and have no intent on stopping. . . “—na,” Raw, natural. His palms press in at the sides, thumbs stroking at the soil as he feels around for growing stems. For a moment it’s silent, save for the crackling radio beside you. Your pretty lips part, and sweetly, you’ve sounded out his name. “—mi.”
A puff of air leaves his lips, a scoff of a chuckle, and he’s giving a slight nod, quietly whispering the syllables of your name in acknowledgment. “Mhm?”
He doesn’t miss the way your lips split into a wide grin, weeds absentmindedly disregarded for a moment as you giggle, “I already knew that— I just said it!”
“Mm,” He agrees, though he’s not entirely sure you did. Then his heavy fingers tap your wrist— gentle, barely even a tap, but it gets you back on track— picking up the dead weeds. Kento watches, your hands gingerly plucking them free from the root, mastered and effortless.
Your fingertips dig into the soil, palms sticky and damp, littered with defrosting grass along each ridge and defining line. There’s so much care in your fingertips, and with every successful pull your eyes ignite. Like a cute, overgrown puppy. “Good. You’re a smart boy.”
“Y’think m’smart?” And, though your shoulders bunch up— a bit more bashful, you’re shaking your head. “I mean— I knew that already, too,” and it washes away as fast as it arrives, replaced with genuine exuberance. “I tell m’self everyday!”
The blond catches it anyway, gaze unwavering, even as your own struggles to keep contact. Nanami’s eyes are remarkably intimidating despite belonging to someone who’s positioned so utterly relaxed. . Crouching just as you are, but with smooth shoulders and lax biceps. Still, they’re visible through the silk fabric of his button-up, but he seems used to it. Tufts of blonde hair, slightly unruly and disheveled— swept back with gel, yet still set off in a flurry of gold by the back of his head, as if he’d rolled around in bed and decided to lounge about instead of retouching it.
Cozy.
“I do,” The sun dawns down through thick, gray clouds, framing his bronze locks— and with his lips slightly parted and his skin picking up a peachy glow, he looks almost seraphic. “What were you saying?”
“Um,” You pause to rethink through the last hour, warmth blowing past your cheeks as a particularly nippy gust of wind rushes by. “. . We sell ‘em, the weeds! That won’t be for a few days, sometimes we keep ‘em for cookin’, but . . . these aren’t any good.”
“Too many?” He asks, as if it’s the most interesting thing he’s learned in his vacation here, by far, despite having learned that just a few days ago.
“Too many!” Pretty lips part into a wide grin, and perhaps that’s the conclusion to Kento’s sightseeing.
౨ৎ
Kento tries not to lie— not unless he absolutely needs to.
With your black on black attire— a large, knitted sweater, a black bomber atop it, dark jeans to match, a hand-woven gray scarf wrapped around your neck, and white sneakers that carry a cream-colored accent in its threading— it’s hard to keep his mouth shut.
“Where are we going?” Is his first question— but there’s so much more he means to ask. Since when do you dress so nicely? Do your parents know you spent extra farm money on those shoes? Is it bad to feel the urge to hold you closer, just so no one gets any ideas?
Nonetheless, checking the silver-plated Rolex along his wrist with the slight tussle of his lapel-collared trench coat, just before popping open the passenger’s seat of your truck, he ignores the growing thought.
“You’re always locked up in your house,” Twisting your keychain covered keys into the ignition, the truck starts up with a gradual rumble. You’ve figured something was wrong with the oil for quite some time now, but it’s never been enough to start any problems. “Don’t y’wanna have fun?”
That doesn’t entirely answer his question, nor does it ease his mind— a vacation this is, yes. But it’s also paid, and he’s technically on the clock whilst being here. Still, he nods just once, the clench of his jaw apparent in the faint valleys of muscle just below his ear. Though, he supposes he could say the same about you. Every day you wake up, harvest, water crops, feed your animals, clean out troths and shovel up feces. He’s not even entirely sure if that’s your idea of fun— but he hopes not.
Kento doesn’t expect you to be such a great driver. Smooth turns and a gentle ride— even with cobblestone streets and gravel trails. You get carried away when you talk, too, hands moving about and your gaze trailing to his eyes every few seconds. He has to remind you— “Don’t take your hands off the wheel,” “Don’t look at me, look at the road,” — but Kento would be lying if he said it weren’t endearing.
It’s almost like you can barely function without basking in his presence.
“If it were warmer,” You swallow, finally stopping to catch your breath after the last fifteen minutes of rambling. The car slows down to a halt, an overhead traffic-light flashing a bright, crisp shade of red. “We could’ve went apple-pickin’ . . . or even oranges!”
You take the time to fully face him, eyes trailing up his dark trousers and gray turtleneck— it bunches at his chest, and you’re sure without his trench coat it’d be just as strained around his biceps.
“What do you do when it’s cold?” He muses, ducking his head to watch the passing of trees and inner city shops.
“Hm?” You hum, but before he can repeat the question you beat him to it. “Uh, we have this lake— it’s the first to freeze over when it’s cold. . ” So quaint, his eyes gloss over pedestrians as they live amongst themselves. Walking their dogs, sharing a drink at an outdoor bar, couples huddled close together for warmth. The sidewalks are clean and clear, there’s a polite, happy bounce to everyone’s step. Fairy lights blink in every other window, casting a sweet, bright hue along the streets below it. Kento understands it all, despite it being much more. . comfortable. . than Sendai. “And, when it’s completely frozen, we skate on it!”
It feels like home. A gentler, cozier version of it.
“I’m sorry—” The blond clears his throat as he turns to actually look at you, having fully processed your words. “Skating?”
“Are y’scared?” Nanami tries to ignore the burning of his throat when you laugh at his silence— a pretty, featherlight thing of a giggle that only progressively makes it harder for him to catch his breath.
“No,” He grumbles. He’s actually done it before— his younger, studying ‘coworkers’ had a knack for dragging him around outside of work hours— and he wasn’t free from it, even in winter. Yuji, Megumi, and Nobora, perhaps the three only people who could have him willingly risking a fractured disc.
“Don’t be scared, ‘Nami!” The car turns into a short trail, decalled in various signs and brightly colored symbols. “I can help you, m‘kay?”
Four people.
He nods anyway, save you the meltdown, and lets you drag him out the car once you’ve found a good place to park. He’d think it was illegal had there not been a sign for it, let alone communal skates in varying sizes. They’re in good condition, too. A small wooden bench— decorated with moss along its sides, he brushed his fingertips against it by accident— keeps him steady, but when he looks over to you, you’re already walking around with untied skates.
“Come here,” He beckons, voice soft and fond as he quirks a finger in your direction. He watches you fumble, nearly tripping over your own legs as opposed to your laces, but you make it over to him anyway, thigh against thigh. You brace yourself when he pulls your legs over his lap, shifts in his seat and tightens them just enough— “It’s not hurting you, is it?”— to fit comfortably.
“Thank you, ‘Nami,” He can hear the sincerity in your voice— as if he’d saved your life. Your breath pans across his face, warm and minty as you shake your head, “Doesn’t hurt. . .”
He offers a gentle pat to your knees once you’re fully set, softly dropping them back down as he leans to tie his own. It’s a quick process— not as tedious as the knotted up, tattered ones back home— a much more nice change of pace.
The ice, though, is considerably worse. He surmises it’s because it’s relatively untouched— if the whole village of Sekichiku had done two laps over it still wouldn’t have been enough to leave a noticeable dent in the ice— so his skates have nowhere to grip. You, though. . .
You’re much more graceful on ice than on land. A slow turn here, a quick twirl there, you could skate laps around him if you so choose. But you don’t, instead holding onto his wrists as he stiffly skates forward. Kento’s nose is nipped with pink, matching the particular shade of his lips as they part in concentration. The shade dispels down his cheeks, and you’ve never seen his face so. . . soft.
“Say, ‘Nami?” You huff, holding his wrists as you move in a slow, clockwise circle, turning you both. “When’re you leavin’?”
The truth bubbles in his throat, tougher to swallow than he’d originally thought it’d be. He clears his throat, avoids the question, and instead of freeing his wrists altogether, he holds your hand. You’re pouting when you slowly swivel to his side, his heart somersaulting almost painfully at the cute, wee frown to your lips. “Hey,” you whine, caught off guard but still pleasantly surprised, squeezing your palms against his own. “What’re you doin’?”
You’ve always been undeniably sweet. Kento thinks back to your basket of goods. The sweet, savory, aromatic flavors of bread, meats, cheeses, chocolates. How you have it to him so sweetly, no questions asked. There’s no ulterior motive to your demeanor, either. It’s peculiar to have someone so. . dependable. Someone to easily lean on, someone so— hospitable.
You’re perfect.
“I've never—“ He pauses, watching smoke dispel form your lips. An intimate position, he’s in— close enough to hear your breaths, holding on tight enough to feel your pulse through your fingertips. “Noone has ever done this for me. Thank you.”
“What, take you skatin’?”
“Support me unconditionally.” He pulls away before you can say anything in response, relishing in the thought of your pulse speeding against his knuckles as he stiffly skates back toward regular land.
The ride home is smooth, but quiet. And once you get there, hunger overrides your hospitality.
You like Kento’s rental— its kitchen is spacious and just big enough to support the mess of pots and pans that come with baking. It’s warm and inviting, the stove works great and the oven even better. Its heat burns a little brighter, but nothing you can’t handle.
Pain au chocolat — chocolatine — and meringue cookies; they’re a pain in Kento’s ass. Not even something he’d try to attempt without you there— he’s happy to watch you whisk away and laugh at his disgruntled faces. A “taste-tester”, you’d called him, scooping one sugary accessory after another onto the pad of your fingertip and asking him to try.
You weren’t lying. You really do know how to bake— flour dusted skin and all. Twisting raw dough into pretty sculptures of bows and braids, scored surfaces of x’s and o’s, light layers of warm butter that seep into soft, risen dough. And when it bakes, oh, how sweet the smell of aromatic bread is to Nanami’s stomach.
Studying the contours of a pretty face— baby fat rounding your cheeks as they pool into a sweet smile, pearly whites displayed brighter than the moonlight leaking through the floral curtains. Your laughter is wholehearted, hands gripping the hem of Nanami’s fleece shirt, body tipping toward his chest as your giggles dispel into the warm, brown-sugar baked air. For a moment he mentally swoons, something of a comforting coo, eyelids heavy and blanketed with the same baking powder littering your handsome face. He relishes the warmth, which leaves just as fast as it arrives, and suddenly you’re reaching into the oven without your cute, fluffy puppy-patterned mittens protecting your hands.
“Wait,” His tone is harsher than intended, solid and thick, and you— the sweet, softheaded boy that you are, don’t entirely deserve the worried look on your face that melts into sharp, hot pain.
“Ouch!” Your elbow smacks into Nanami’s calf as you flinch, fingertips raw and numb— still pulsing from the fresh burn. The man crouches down, knee to ceramic, palm to your warm shoulder, and suddenly your wide eyes are glittering and gleaming. Had the smile from your face not been growing, he’d have been appalled. “‘Nami, did you see that?!”
“Silly boy,” He sucks his teeth, pulling your clasped hands from your chest. Gingerly, he plucks out each finger one by one, runs the pad of his thumb along the burn sites. “You have to be more gentle with yourself.”
And, as if he’d declared to destroy your favorite equipment, your shoulders deflate. Hazel watches as tears well in your eyes in real time— with award winning speed, really— glassy and wet and oh, you’re so cute. It was just a small reminder, nothing too harsh— it could barely be considered scolding. Yet here you are, sniffling and averting your gaze. Eyes glossed over while your fingers instinctively curl over his own for comfort. Then a small, petulant, “M’sorry, ‘Nami.”
“None of that,” Soothing, it's gentle and soft as his thumb travels along the numb pads of your fingertips. And though it was already a faint sensation, you can tell his touches are deliberately featherlight and calculated, cautious. “Nothing to cry about.”
“I’m not crying,” You grumble, though his ears register the sound as a wet sniffle as you rub at your cheek with the back of your free hand. “I don’t do that.”
“Of course not,” The breathy lilt tongue voice gives it all away, a tiny smile dotting the man’s lips. They’re entirely too enticing, a sweet shade of pink that dispels into the milky tan of his skin. Sheen and glazed with what could be spit, your lips part to mirror the same smile. Though yours is larger, his isn’t any less exuberant— luring you in one centimeter at a time until, inevitably, his breath ghosts along the expanse of your jaw— you can almost taste him.
His voice breaks through the thickened silence, “But it’s okay if you do.”
The next two hours should go by just fine.
౨ৎ
“What does ‘default-judgment’ mean?”
Floorboards creak beneath Kento’s feet, dimly lit ambient lighting placed around the office keeps it lit just enough to see ever so clearly— a small lamp angled above an open file, then the remaining trickle of light cascading over photos. Labeled, dated, clipped, and shipped to his front door just a couple weeks ago. Soon to be released, relinquished, deadlined.
His hair drips with cold water, tiny drops dripping down to the floor while others slither down his neck, and pool where his back dips, just slightly. He doesn’t tense when he sees you— his muscles remain just as relaxed as they were in the shower— and his eyes barely widen past the tired, lidded expression that paints his face every night, before he gets his studying done. But you—
You’re the opposite. Your shoulders raise to your ears, eyes wide and unblinking as they stare at the towel wrapped around his thick, slightly hairy forearm— it’s navy blue, with a brown, horizontal stripe across its fabric, and embroidered letters you can’t quite make out. An intelligible sound, then an unexplainable expression, and— there you are, tripping over your own tongue as your hands shoot to cover your eyes. Only unclothed from the waist up, Kento can’t help the amusement blooming in his chest.
“It’s a deduction based on a defendant’s failure to answer. . or appear, in some cases, to a lawsuit or court.” Nanami’s eyes trace the part of your lips behind your palm as your brain processes (though, he doesn’t think that’d be the correct word for it) his words. They purse, quickly, tight lined, until parting again— once more, with less confidence. With each step he takes (long strides that make him appear as if he’s almost floating) he grows closer, strands of freshly washed angel hair sticking to his forehead.
“. S. . ure!” You smile and nod in faux understanding, fingers curling toward the dip of your hairline, eyes peeking through cracked fingers. From there, beneath your palms, an uncomfortable warmth blossoms from your throat up, settling in your cheeks and sprinkling across your nose— sweltering and tingly.
Kento tuts, a soft noise, and you watch as he inhales a deep breath, pine eyes perusing through the space between your fingers for eye contact. “. . . Don’t worry about all that.” And, as if he can feel the high voltages slamming against your heart, his tongue darts out to moisturize his lips, and his eyes fall to your chest. He sits aslant to you, legs spread wide with the occasional sway of his knee— but nothing too sudden. You’re made all too aware of his half-naked proximity, purportedly close enough to feel the warmth of his body radiating through the room— to smell the sweet undertones of vanilla, musk, and earl gray tea residing in his skin. In a low rumble he speaks, pulling lotion free from the drawer to your left. “Silver lining is: I’ll be out of your hair soon.”
Even as he leans forward, closer and closer, he doesn’t cage you in— even if your chest aches at the loss.
Your heart demands the conversation die after that. Beating so rapidly you assume it’s stopped, silence freezes the air as your hands slowly drop to your lap. Lips pulled with woe, darling eyes low and sodden in an instant. Shoulders dropped just enough to sound a sharp creak in the swiveling chair you’re sat in, your lashes clump with fresh, unshed tears. And, in a lapse moment of murkiness, Kento’s lips twitch into a frown of their own.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, as if afraid your response will confirm it— he’s what’s wrong. His choice of words— wrong. Thin brows furrowed, the dip of his chin has his lips ghosting your cheek.
“. . . Nothin’.” It’s worse. He’d expected tears— maybe even an exchange of fiery words— but instead you’ve shut down, hands balled up in the fabric of your flowy pants, denim bunched up and draped over your thighs. Completely silent, staring at nothing and everything— all in between— all at once.
“Nothing?” He echoes, a silent suggestion for more. The rumble in your ear is almost too much, for a moment you assume you’d conjured it up with your imagination. Too close, too bare, too blunt, too warm— too fleeting.
“Mhm,” When your gaze meets, his heart plummets to his stomach. “Nothin’.” Words rush to his tongue before they can catch up to his brain, and. . you look so . . sad. He’s never seen you so defected— nor had he thought the concept of giving up existed for you. So headstrong, determined to make things work, gears always shifting into overdrive when you can’t make something out. You’ve gone as far as to create your own definition— this isn’t you.
“It’s. . . inevitable,” Kento’s voice softens, dropping to a quiet whisper between just the two of you. “But not for a while,” Then shifts his weight back, pulling away as he speaks in some sick sort of oxymoron, “I’m not going anywhere.”
“But you will.” Grumbling, you’ve always been an open-book.
“Not forever.”
“. . . Ever,” You grunt, choosing to ignore the stern quirk of his thin brow. You’re a bit of a brat— Kento sees that now— behind the pouty lips and soft eyes, behind the large smiles and intimidating prowess. “When are you goin’?”
Nanami treads carefully, fingers wrapped around the closed bottle of lotion. With a snap it clicks open, and a generous amount is pumped into his palms. The smell is neutral and muted, but clean and fresh.
Kento tries not to lie— not unless he absolutely needs to. An unexplainable feeling, adjacent to panic, rises in his stomach as he lies, “Six weeks, at least.”
“Nami…” Ignoring the deadline he’d just given you, you ask, “D’you like your job?”
You watch his posture relax, as if the previous conversation was just as emotionally taxing as it was for you, for him. He sighs, pauses to think for a mere second, then shrugs. “I like its structure.”
“Oh.”
“I like helping people, too.” He adds, much more sincere. Your eyes trail the lotion as it’s rubbed into his biceps, his shoulders, his forearms. His fingers flex and muscles ripple, skin bouncing beneath his fingertips, and light traces of hair at his knuckles raising.
“Oh.” You breathe, eyes locked on his veiny hands. You suppose, in a way, your jobs are similar. You, too, help people out— you provide fresh food and crops, you herd cattle and brush the hair of healthy horses. A very hands-on job— it’s rewarding. “Me too. I— I like helping too. And. . .”
His fingers twitch, almost as if they can feel your gaze, but Kento makes no effort to move them.
Six weeks. Time is fleeting.
“I—” With trembling hands you lean forward, clasping Kento’s smooth knuckles against your palm. He’s just as warm as he looks, skin soft and sheen. His fingers flicker in your hold, straining as they tense— silently, asking, ‘what?’ as an increasingly overwhelming urge to keep Kento close washes over you.
It’s moments like these you’d wish you were better with words. To weave them together into something pretty, like a basket made for carrying fresh harvest. To pull apart and braid together an amalgamation of just the right phrases— ones that sound pretty and roll off the tongue. Some that sound soulful and genuine, yet effortless and forthwith at the same time.
Moments like these, where your breath is stuck in your throat and with every rise and fall of his chest you think you’ve lost some more— he’s taken it all from you— you wish you knew just what to say, to do, to bring that air back.
To have him melt at your words the way you do at his actions, to have him feel the same exact thing when your heart clenches in your chest like a rag that’s been wrung out to dry. Without trying, without straining. You wish you were smarter— better at this, as you lean so far from the chair it begins to squeak in protest.
You’re sure there’s better people in Tokyo. With better educational backgrounds, with cleaner jobs. People who have it all together, who have different skills and assets— who don’t stick to one thing simply because they have a natural born talent for it. People who are prettier, more handsome— perhaps more his type. People who have aligning career goals and paths— more accomplishments.
Sweeter, kinder. With softer hands and an easier understanding of city life.
People who are better with words. Who can weave them together into something pretty, like a closed case with no loose ends or dead leads. Who can pull apart and braid together an amalgamation of just the right phrases— ones that sound pretty and roll off the tongue. Who can make their confessions sound soulful and genuine, effortless and forthwith at the same time. All within the heart of Tokyo.
People who aren’t you.
Nanami stands, shuffling over to fix the documents you’d ruined— of course you did— but his face hasn’t changed from his usual tight-lipped expression. Sometimes it’s hard to read him, and it’s times like these you really wish you could.
“I like you,‘Nami.” You whisper to yourself, quietly pouring your heart out with each spoken letter.
And, with a snap, your world goes crumbling down. Increasingly silent, the world stops as you hit the floor and Kento’s chest stills— the soft, quiet beat of his breaths gone quiet, as if it were a mere memory to begin with. The backing of his swiveling chair falls with you, right to the floor, clattering much louder than the sound of your tense body, and—
“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I think you have the wrong idea.” His voice is strained. Uncomfortable.
You’ve never felt more humiliated.
౨ৎ
Despite your humiliating attempt to hold onto it, time flies by. Locked away in your room— your only source of comfort being an occasional knock on the door from your mother and the weight of your blanket as it remains overhead. You’ve counted the seconds— tripped over your thoughts after reaching 1,633– started over again. You’ve listened to the pitter-patter of rain against your windowsill, peeked out from your cocoon to bet on a race between the raindrops.
You’ve thought about Kento, of course. So much it plagued you, made your chest uncomfortably tight— until all you could do was let out a humiliated groan all over again. It’s a timeless cycle, and yet, it grows closer to his leaving date.
You haven’t spared a glance toward the actual outside, even when your window overlooks his own study. You’re sure everything’s out of sorts now— weeds overtaking the farm, plants dried out or overwatered, any blooming vegetation snipped at the bud before it could bloom. Tough luck, they’ll get over it.
And, God, has your family tried. Through gentle words and offers of food, through soft praises that fell on deaf ears. Through frustration, too, anger laced in the sweetest yell of ‘where’d my smart boy go?’
Your eyelids feel heavy and thick. No longer swollen with tears or bloodshot with dejection— just heavy, simply tired. Sleep is all you’ve done these days, yet it feels like your body can’t get enough. Fifteen hours a day leave you straining for more, three hours a day leave you exhausted. You can barely remember when you last left your bed— for the bathroom, never for a drink— and even when your frown deepens as you think about it, you can’t bring yourself to fix it.
You can’t bring yourself to fix anything as of late, if it can even be fixed.
You were stupid for thinking he’d feel the same, anyway. A man like ‘Nami— a man like Nanami— so smart and so distinguished. So. . opposite of you, to think you’d fall anywhere near the same line as him. . is laughable, really. Even more so when you consider his upbringing. He doesn’t mention it much, and you try not to pry, but you consider his lifestyle quite traditional and cookie-cutter. You hadn’t even asked if he liked men.
“I think you have the wrong idea.”
His rejection physically pains you, a quiet sniffle and suppressed whine straining your vocal cords. Your nails dig into the fleshy, cushiony part of your palm. You can hear the pitch of his voice — rumbling and deep, you hear the shakiness of his breath—so deeply uncomfortable, cold with disgust. “I think you have the wrong idea.”
A knock to your door startles you awake, eyes wide open as your cocooned body flops around in bed. Still, you barely make an effort to respond, dry lips parting to form a garbled groan.
“Your. . . friend was at the door,” It’s your mother’s voice, but softer and pleading. For a moment your heart twists, eyebrows pinched as you suck in a sharp breath through your teeth— you can’t remember the last time you’d seen her face without slamming a door in it. “Looked tired, so I gave him some coffee. . .”
A bitter, disconcerting ‘so?’ nearly leaves your mouth— something so unlike your usual self, it makes you want to borrow deeper into your sheets and never leave. Shame. She doesn’t expect you to crack the door open. You shake your head, even if she can’t see you, only breaking your stubborn resolve when knocks once more, and slowly, you scuttle around the mess of your bedroom to unlock the door. Your eyes carry dark circles and heavy bags as your gaze pierces straight through her. Then, a shaky breath and barely audible whisper, “. . . S’it Nanami?”
Her aged smile is soft and thoughtful as she leans into the doorframe— something you haven’t seen in a while, and your eyes prickle with warm tears once more. “Between you ‘n me, you’re in much better shape.”
Cracking a smile nearly takes all your energy from you.
You don’t bother changing from your pajamas— they’ve always been so baggy to support the muscle you’ve grown over years of lifting heavy produce and working with truckloads— and now you’re grateful for it. Something to hide behind if you need it, and your fingers subconsciously curl into the fabric of your long sleeves for comfort. Once you get downstairs the two of you depart, and a gentle rub to your shoulder blades is all your mother offers before finding solitude on her own, just a few rooms away if you need her.
And— she was wrong. Of course, he looks tired. You can see it in his shoulders— they’re all wound up and tense, like they’d been when you first met. Sure, his jaw is tightened and you can hear the grind of his teeth against one another despite keeping your distance— but he still seems put together, albeit lacking his usual combover or corporate style of clothing.
It hurts to know he does well without you, as selfish as it may sound.
“Hi,” You mumble, rubbing at your face with the palm of your hand. Your voice crackles with disuse, rumbling and garbled in your throat. “Nanami. .”
“Hi,” He echoes, your name heavy on his tongue as he stands, leveling out the shared eye contact. Just Nanami. For a moment he’s at a loss for words— and it’s odd, typically he has an answer for everything. You remember asking why he’d buckle your seatbelt before his own, and his answer was always the same. You remember asking why he likes what he does— and they’d all circle back to enjoying the small things in life. His Kento’s lips part, taken aback by the loss of his nickname, but they close into a tight line with registration. Perhaps you’re just. . too much.
“I lied to you,” He begins, and your heart leaps to your throat. He clasps his hands together, resting soundly by his thighs as his head tilts downward, a silent plea. “And, for that . . . I’m sorry,” Kento releases a breath, hands coming undone to swipe away stray, gold strands of hair. “Don’t feel obliged to accept, I just— I like y— I want to show you something.”
It’s odd. The look on your face makes him want to scoop you up, to cradle you in his arms and hold you tight. And yet, he can see the cogs turning in your brain, the gradual loss of your frown and faux steel in your eyes as you shrug— he can’t even distinguish if you’re being reluctant or stubborn. Nonetheless, Kento smoothens the fabric of his coat, and makes a small, polite gesture to the door.
“Okay.” Your fist rubs sleep from your eyes, steps heavy and dragging along the floor as you slide your feet into brown bunny slippers— the same ones he’d worn when you officially met.
Stepping into the cold, crisp winter air, you both ignore the tremor to your bottom lip, “What were you gonna. . ?”
Not at all hard to spot, set alight by the glow or orange lanterns, it’s your farm. Oh, it’s much prettier than you could’ve ever imagined it. So clean, with pristine rows and neat placements of fresh soils. You can actually walk through it, as opposed to tip-toeing around like you used to. The air is crisp and fresh, just like you’d remembered it— but it feels better than before. And, dotting the horizon, fireflies dance into the night sky and blend into the twinkling stars. You don’t remember the last time you’d seen them— vision occupied by tall grass or obstructed by rusty tools. You could almost cry. Your breath catches in your throat, a gentle breeze brushing along your forehead and digging into the fabric of your clothes— yet you feel light and warm.
He did all this for you?
“Are you cold?” You blink hard, vision blurred with tears as Kento’s hand grasps your shoulder. “You’re shivering.” He’s quick to shrug off his coat, barely even flinching when the fabric dips into fresh mud, and loops it around your form with steady hands.
“M’okay. .” He frowns, barely visible, and the slight protests of being strong enough to tough it out die on your tongue. But it’s true, you don’t feel cold— not internally, at least. You feel light yet heavy, warm and airy. Heat pokes at your skin, ignites in the apples of your cheeks and trails down your throat. “. . . Thank you, ‘Nami. . . For everythin’.”
‘Why're you saying it like that?’ He wants to ask. As if it’s some sort of sick, roundabout way of saying goodbye. His movement stutters, lips curled into a small ‘o’ before reverting back to its usual, thin line; and he speaks, “I don’t just like you.”
Your fist tightens in his coat, fabric twisting to accommodate your grip.
“I. . admire you. Your strength, your weakness. Your baking. . Your smile, too,” He sighs, quiet and cautious. “Your laugh. I regret not telling you before. At first, I thought you were impulsive, and somehow abrasive, bu—”
You’ve never been one to hide from your feelings— you laugh when you’re happy, scowl when you’re angry, mope when you’re sad. So it’s no surprise to feel you smile; wide and unapologetic. It’s no surprise to feel the tremble of your fingers as they release his coat and land on his biceps. To feel the slow, shaking breath of air he releases at your silence— hearing his own slight sniffle at the nippy, cold breeze. You’re nervous, lips twitching as his chin dips, bashful as his lips intertwine with your own.
A kiss.
"’Nami," Laughing into his mouth, it meets the sound of your lips continuously meeting in breathless, heavy harmony. His lips are plush, soft and sweet, hungry and hasty, everything and nothing and all things in between. “I like you. I like you, I like you, I like you.”
You feel it now— the warmth enveloping his chest, the hard hammering of his heart against his ribcage. "Shit," He whispers, incredulous, and before slowly pulling away, cradles your handsome face between his calloused “I like you too.”
౨ৎ
Kento owns silk pillows. You can tell they’re imported from home— as they disturb the uniform colors of the crisp, cream comforter set blanketing his bed. It’s the first thing you notice, head sinking into the fabric as your eyes flutter closed, thoughts and breaths stolen with each wet, heavy kiss being pressed against your lips. His breath is hot and heavy, small groans and grunts leaving his parted lips, and— he tastes of chocolate.
“Kenny—” You gasp, but the sound of his name on your lips only eggs him on. Hot heat blooms in your stomach, tingling down to your tummy, so deep, something you’ve never really felt before. It tingles, almost, right through your thighs and straight to your cock, plumping up with each passing second. And his hands, god, are so quick and skilled— shedding you of your clothing as if he’s done it a million times before.
“Kenny,” You repeat, much whinier than before, tiny sounds leaving your lips as you squirm in his hold. “Mm, wait,” and his response is barely committal, a low hum that melts into a breathy sigh as your bare skin is exposed and your leaking cock springs free against your tummy. He coos, peeling the sticky fabric of your underwear free. Cute.
“Use your words,” Kento mumbles against your skin, running his hands along the silky smooth skin of the back of your thighs. “I know you can, you’re a smart boy.” You squirm with every touch, plush skin bouncy as you press your thighs together, cock sliding by your navel. And, even when you hide, he can see the precum smearing against your stomach, the tightening of your balls, and, now, your exposed hole winking back at him.
Fuck.
“Mm, don’t look,” You’ve barely convinced yourself, a choked out moan leaving your lips as his big, warm hand wraps around your cock and pumps. “That’s— oh, embarrassin’!” Slow, at first, trailing up the sensitive shaft and rubbing circles into the overly-sensitive head. Until his hand is slick with precum and his own spit, until your thighs are convulsing and you’re close to covering yourself in your own cum. Until you’re sobbing, pulling at his wrist with weak, clammy hands.
“I know, sugar. I know,” And the stifled cry you've been hearing belongs to you. “Feels good, hm?” His free hand grazes down your waist, thumbing at the dip between your hip and your thigh, then cupping the soft, plush skin of your pecs. “Feels better than your own hand, doesn’t it?” Kneading until your nipples harden against his palm, soft skin swelling around his fingers. And, oh, how pretty you are when you cry, overstimulated tears rolling down your cheeks and incoherent babbles leaving your swollen lips.
“Uh— huh, yeah,” Is barely breathed out, and Kento watches pre leak over his knuckles. Creamy and thick, sticky and sweet as your hips rock back and forth, to and fro. You just can’t help yourself, greedy boy, fucking into his fist like it’s the best thing you’ve ever felt and— oh.
It is.
“Messy boy,” He huffs, pressing his forehead against your own— damp and sticky. Your hand, preoccupied with fisting his sheets, is grabbed, and all you can feel is slick, hot heat. “Fuck your fist for me.”
“Wh- Huh?” It takes a moment for your brain to catch up to your hands, wrapped tightly around your cock as your hips buck— whines high and loud in your throat, keening like a puppy. It’s not at all paced, not like Kento, just pure desperation and need as your toes curl and your eyes roll back into your skull. Warmth rises in your face as your legs instinctively part, tingles spreading through your body and needy moans filling the air. Wet and sloppy, your hand is slick and soaked.
He travels lower, lips trailing down your throat, your collarbones— pausing at your chest. He watches the rise and fall, the slight bounce of your pecs as you pant like a dog. Pretty buds hard and sensitive, a gentle suckle is enough to make you arch from the sheets and keen.
“Good boy, that’s it,” You have the urge to get on your knees, to present all your holes to him, to spread yourself open with your fingers- fucking them in and out, in and out, just for Kento. It’s all too much, thinking of what’s next, what’s happening now, what’ll happen later.
Nanami lifts his shirt over his chest, the fabric bunching under your armpits as he keeps it pinned between his teeth, and you have no other choice but to flutter your lashes, watching as his pants are loosened and his cock springs free. Big. Thick and long— and, it seems his tan has traveled to his cock, too. Blushing at the tip, the sweet color of mocha, it disappears the further you look down. Curved, too, slightly past his belly-button and heavy against his navel. It's humiliating, the way your mouth waters almost immediately.
It’d feel so good weighing down on your tongue, fucking your throat fast and rough, making you gag and sputter— choking on your own tears and groans.
“Wanna. . I want. . .” You squirm where you lay, whining high in your throat as you find nowhere to hide— nothing to put your face against, nowhere to bury the drunk, hazy expression on your face.
“Want what?” He murmurs, pretty eyes trailing along the curves of your face before he places a sweet, soft kiss along the edge of your jaw. You take the grip on your waist as a slight indication— Kento’s patience is slowly waning.
“V’never. .” Your lips part into a gasp, eyes fluttering closed as his large hands travel along the expanse of your chest. “I wanna. . . feel you in my throat.”
The smart man he is, Nanami, never misses a beat. Pink lips splitting into a small smile, his thumb rubs circles against your skin. Still, you can feel the throb and twitch of his cock against your thigh, hard and almost leaking. “That’s ambitious, sugar.”
You don’t register scrambling up by your elbows, nor the amount of time it takes for your fingers to fail at wrapping around his cock. Your thoughts are muffled and hazy until a quiet chuckle sounds above you— rumbly and deep, and— ah, Kento’s hand is guiding your head back as he pulls your hands free. You’re panting for it now, mouth dropped open as the slurp and slick noise of his cock tapping against your tongue drops straight to your stomach. You could cum from this alone, without even a single glance toward the ache between your thighs.
"M'gonna be so good, promise, know I can do it! Want it, Sir," A clear habit of rambling when you’re nervous, a soothing coo leaves Kento’s throat. His tip smears along your pillowy lips, sticky and salty as pre paints your chin.
“Shit,” He groans under his breath, fisting his cock to ease the ache in his balls. “Slow. I don’t want to hurt you. Gentle, remember?”
You don’t. You can barely think, let alone recall something from another day. But you nod anyway, eyes glued to his cock as it bobs to and fro— pretty and weeping. You bet it’ll feel so heavy, weighing down on your tongue and nearly crushing your throat as you gag around it. He’ll taste good, too, salty and sweet as he buries his cock down your throat. With your nose pressed into the blond of his pubes, and his balls slick against your chin as they tighten and clench.
Yeah, you want him to cum on your face.
With a whiny nod you take his tip into your mouth, pink tongue over your teeth. In your head, it’s much easier— you can sink down to the base no problem— but in practice. . . You sputter and gurgle, leaning into the gentle touch caressing your cheek as your tongue traces the pulsing, thick vein cascading down his shaft. Through your pathetic whimpers and whines he mumbles— but it falls on deaf ears.
You stick out your tongue, cute and pink, latches onto your bottom lip, slicking his slit as he blinks down at you, pupils blown and wide as he praises you, voice smooth and buttery.
Through your own jittery, inexperienced suckling, his tip is smeared along your lips, slowly tracing your cupid's bow and bottom lip until a thin layer of pre has them glazed over and sticky. Your lips part, carrying a thin trail of creamy pre between them, as his dick slides in and out your hot, wet mouth. Spreading heavy along your tongue, swallowing around the head as his thighs tense, muscles flexing and rippling as they strain to keep still.
“‘Nami’s dick is heavy, sweetheart,” He’s gasping before you can fully take in the stretch of his cock, hips twisting as his eyes flutter closed. It’s been a while, you can tell, with the way his balls are clenched tight, his hand morphed into a fist— careful not to grip your hair. Your spit bubbles and pools around his cock, slick and wet, sliding between the seams of your lips and dripping down your throat, down your sternum, down his thighs. “And you’re taking it so well.”
Running your tongue along his big, veiny cock, his head falls forward— adam’s apple bobbing as he lets out a pleased moan. His cock fills your empty mouth, stuffing it full like a pre-lubed fleshlight, his balls slapping against your chin in sticky, wet plaps. Collecting drool, it froths between your lips and his cock, bubbly and white until your noises are sloppy and loud. “That’s it, good boy, take this load down your pretty little throat. . .”
Gasping on his cock, Kento’s hand holds you close, until you’re buried against his pubes, until your throat is squeezing and contracting and wrapped plush around the thick shaft of his dick. You can feel it, each and every twitch and throb, each hit, sticky rope that paints your mouth as he cums down your throat, ropes shooting down your tongue and sticking to the roof of your mouth. You’ve done so good, such a good boy, marked for Sir, offering a few hollow sucks to his spasming cock before he pulls you off.
You’d rather he paint your face, but you trust him, swallowing the bitter, salty cream as he whispers gentle praises.
“You’re perfect,” Kento mumbles through heavy gasps, rubbing away the fat tears that roll down your cheeks. Such a sweet, pliant boy, leaning into his touch as he gently pushes you back down, off your knees.
Now he’s got you folded, knees bent back in such a slutty, shameless display. The blond squeezes at his cock, his large hand sliding into a fist that clamps down around his beading, shiny slit, then slowly back down to the thick, veiny shaft. Yeah, that’s good, how it slips and slides with rhythmatic pumps. You’d like to imagine that’s how it’ll be when his cock is inside, stretching past your rim and splitting you open, sliding against your velvety walls until he fills you up with his hot, sticky cum.
“Spit,” he says, gentle at first, but hardening as your poor, pitiful attempt at spitting down your own cock turns into gurgles of drool and incoherent moans. He grips your jaw, angling it just right— till you’re resting back on your elbows and have enough space to land a warm, wet glob right down the slit. “Good boy. Look at me, pretty. Like this.”
You watch as he spits down onto his own cock, runny and wet, which stands as a reminder of its own. His fist is so big, but it’s not nearly enough to swallow his cock down. You watch it pop free from his tight grip, loud squelches with each and every movement. Every time he throbs, pulses, shifts— you hear it all.
“That’s it, atta boy, my good little cocksleeve,” You— it must be you, there’s no one else he’s speaking to. Still, with your hand squeezing your throbbing shaft there’s not much you can say, airy little moans and sweet, high gasps leaving your pouty lips as you buck— up, up, up. A thin trail of drool slips down your chin, warm and wet and— oh, that’s nice— trailing down your cock. “That’s it, stick your tongue out.”
You really do play the part, tongue on display as you fuck your fist silly, bumping slits with the blond. Soft and sticky, loud and wet squelching until his own large, warm palm envelops both your cocks, bumping and grinding and sliding so messy. You nearly burst into hysterics when the warmth is gone, and Nanami’s gaze tears away from the pre oozing between your shafts. “Ask Sir for more, angel.”
“Mm, waitwaitwait, don’t— don’t stop,” You keen, stumbling over your tongue. Your brows pinch, eyes glazed over with unshed tears. “Kenny— Sir, please.”
“Good boy,” All but purring, his hands roam along the plush, round mounds of your ass. “Yeah,” His dick slips between the slick skin of your perineum, dragging along the sensitive skin— the head of his cock catching on your rim when his thrusts turn too eager. “You’re a good boy, asking like that.”
“You like grinding on Sir's cock don’t you? Getting me all wet. . .” Just as warm and wet as he’d thought, cooped up in his office and fucking into his fist, lube gushes and trickles out with every deliberate, shallow rut forward. Your balls bounce and twitch, slick and shiny with a mixture of pre. Your moans, so pretty, high and nasally— incoherent and blabbering. The slurp of his cock goes straight to your balls, tightening as you whine like a bitch for it. And his grip, once gentle and steady, leads down to your ass, keeping it spread as he slides the big head of his cock along your pretty little rim, again, and again, and again. It’s more menuevering than bouncing, through your fucked out haze you try to think; you want him to ruin you.
A knot tightens in your tummy, tingling in your balls as your thighs tighten and your legs tremble— fuck, you’re cumming, hard and all at once, it catches you off guard and a choked squeal is knocked from your throat, rope after rope spraying along your own chest.
“I—” You sob, cock convulsing against your tummy as Kento groans. “I didn’t mean to— didn’t know, m’sor—”
He hushes you, a low growl in his throat as his eyes roam up your tummy, past your hard nipples and land on the splatter of cum collecting between the plush hills of your pecs. “S’okay, it just felt too good, mhm? I bet your pussy feels so good, baby— perfect, pretty little pussy swallowing up my cock.”
You don’t expect him to say that— that’s the last thing you expect, eyes rolling back in your skull as you moan, wholehearted and slutty. With the wet squeeze of lube along your bottom half, slicker and sloppier than ever before, your hole winks back at him. Your perfect, pretty little pussy. “That okay, sweetheart? Can Sir pound this hole till it aches for him?”
Your response is barely coherent, garbled sounds and babbling that roughly translates to ‘please’ as thick fingers prod at your tight, puckered hole. Your loud moans are hushed as Kento leans down, close to your ear. His fingers slide against your entrance, sticky lube sliding along with them and connecting to your puffy rim. They feel so big, so long and thick when he taps them against your hole, barely breaching the tiny gape of your rim. “Gonna get you ready for Sir’s dick, gonna finger that cunt nice and slow, get that sweet boy-hole stretched out.”
“Kenny,” You hiccup, uncontrollable tears streaming down your face as you reach forward to press his fingers closer, a tiny gasp leaving your lips as your entrance is breached. You don’t miss the groan you earn in return, deep and shaky as the man takes the opportunity to slip his fingers right in, past the burning stretch of your fluttering ‘cunt’ that sucks the digits deeper and deeper into your gummy walls. “Can take it, pound it, Sir.”
“Look at me, watch me, sugar. Watch Sir fuck this little hole full.” You squeeze your eyes shut for as long as the reluctant, bratty little part of your brain lets you before staring down into hazel. Until his fingers have you seeing stars and rocking back into them like a cock hungry slut, you’ve never felt more full until his cock kisses your insides, leaving you sloppy and open and full.
Your voice isn’t nearly as loud as the wet squelch and slap of skin against skin, his cock sliding in and out your puffy hole as lube gushes out around his dick in white ringlets. Like you’ve creamed on his cock, he can see it slip back inside with each thrust. Your knees over his shoulders, Kento hauls your body up, and with a tiny, wee and pathetic ‘ah!’ you follow suit, your cute little hole clenching and fluttering around his thick, leaking cock.
“Give me a little more, just a little more of this pussy,” You can’t contain the squeals and squeaks that leave your mouth when the blond pistons his hips, a bruising grip on your waist that only gets harder as he grinds his cock down into you. He’s filling you up so good, his balls slapping against your ass with each rushed, rough thrust that has your mind scrambled just as much as your guts. You can’t take it, hands scrambling to grab at something, anything that’ll keep you from screaming.
Pounding into you, your head falls back as you take it, nice and slow, stretching you out— fast and rough, steady and patient— Kento groans above you, bullying his cock inside, grinding while your hips squirm. Mouth open with an unending stream of moans, he breaks you in, turns you into his good boy— his perfect fleshlight. Wet little hole clenching and spasming, his weight pins you down as your greedy hole milks him for all he’s worth.
“Cummin’, Nami, s’too much— M’can’t—” Whining and crying, his touches go right to your head as much as they do your puffy hole."Kenny," you whine, long and pitiful, a pout of a noise that hits him right where you want it to, just as his cock does inside of you. You whine again when your rocking turns into frantic overstimulated grinding, reveling in the stretch of his cock and the rub of your prostate. He groans, thick and gravelly, hands coming up to squeeze at your chest.
“I’ve got you, c’mere, hold Sir’s hand,” He chokes out, feeling it too. The tightening of his balls, the way his dick aches and pulses inside you, the way his cum is starting to kiss your insides and spurt straight onto that small bundle of nerves— fuck, it’s so deep. His thrusts are hard and deep, thick rope after thick rope frothing around his shaft as he fucks it deeper inside. “So good for me,” You never want it to stop, not the pump of his cock, not the drag of his tip against your entrance, not the filthy sounds, not the cum filling up your hole till you can’t move. Your grip on his knuckles is tight, nails digging into the skin of his hands. “That’s it, such a pretty boy, cumming on my cock.”
A searing knot of pressure grows in your stomach, filling as you bear down on his cock and sob on your whimpers. For a minute you think you’re going to pass out, everything going dark as you spurt all over yourself, globs of cum spraying hard onto your chin and splashing back on the blond. He makes you ride it out, offering hard, shallow thrusts to satiate the erratic spasming of your hole, and places a few sweet, tender kisses to your sweaty jaw.
౨ৎ
You wake with a small moan, limbs racked in small aches as your body melts into silk sheets. It smells like him: warm, cozy, and comforting, like a hug. Grateful for the dim, ambient lighting of his bedroom, your eyelids flutter open slowly, and there’s not much to adjust to. You’re clean— its the first thing you notice, a faint scent of soap lingering on your skin as your aching body scrambles for Kento’s warmth.
“I’m here,” He says behind you, hairs on your neck standing straight as you blink at him. Carrying a glass of ice water and a plate of meringue cookies— whisked perfectly. Cute, cloud-like spirals that sit on a porcelain plate— the same ones he watched you make, a smile pulls at your cheeks. “Hungry?” The muscles of your biceps flex as you push yourself up, body subconsciously leaning toward the blond until he’s sat next to you, his touches gentle and fleeting.
He feeds you a cookie, watches your teeth sink into the sweet, then wipes away the remnants of sugar from your lips. So tender, your heart flutters when he takes a bite after you— an indirect kiss.
He swallows, throat bobbing, lashes batting against his high cheekbones, before parting his lips, “I was thinking of extending my stay.”
The room feels ten times brighter, ten times louder, and yet, your heartbeat overpowers it all.
“I like you,” The words tumble from your mouth, almost as if he hadn’t just spent the last hour taking you apart and building you back up. You have nothing to lose, and everything to gain. “I more-than-like you, Kenny.”
And, without missing a beat, Kento answers truthfully this time.
“I love you too.”
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apomaro-mellow · 5 months
Text
Every Baby Needs a Daddy
Part 1/?
Modern au rock star!Eddie & sugar baby!Steve; alpha!Eddie/omega!Steve
Fall was in full swing and a chill was officially in the air at all times. Most especially as the sun started to go down. Eddie was warm in his leather jacket but for a brief moment his heart went out to the guy standing outside the bar, arms bare to the wind. He was dressed in a striped polo shirt and jeans, not quite what one might see in a dive bar like this.
But he was probably waiting for someone, so Eddie went inside without another thought, catching just the smallest whiff of his scent as he walked by. An omega. He was definitely waiting for someone then. No one kept their omega idling for long. Once inside, Eddie took his shades off, the lights low enough to keep most from recognizing him.
It helped that he was flying solo tonight. No band members or bodyguards in sight. It was nice to be anonymous sometimes. Not that fame and fortune ever got tiring, it was just a good change of pace. He posted up to the bar, ordered a beer, and got comfortable. He was right in the middle of a conversation with another patron about the current season's fishing prospects when that scent washed over him again something like lavender and petrichor.
Although, when Eddie looked over, that second part might've just been the scent of actual rain. The omega from outside was sitting next to him. The tops of his shoulders and head were damp.
"Was wonderin' when you'd come in and grace us with your presence", the bartender said.
The omega simply rolled his eyes and didn't order anything. Eddie saw him shiver and without thinking, took off his jacket and placed it over his shoulders. He realized what he'd done when the other man froze.
"Sorry you just looked cold and maybe you were but I shouldn't've just done something like that I can-I can take it back", he reached out.
"No", the omega held onto the jacket. "No, it's fine. I was cold. Thank you."
"I uh, saw you outside. Boyfriend making you wait?" Eddie inwardly cringed. He meant to be more subtle than that. Meant to say something anything else.
"Don't have one." The omega got a strange look as he finally looked Eddie square in the face. "Have I...seen you somewhere before? Sorry", he shook his head and let out a breath of laughter. "What I line. I swear I'm not-I'm not trying to come on to you or anything, I just know I've seen you on like tv or something."
Eddie couldn't judge on pick up lines after what he said about a boyfriend. "You...you might've." He looked around and contemplated for just a second before he continued. "Ever heard of Corroded Coffin?"
"They're a band, right? That's where I know you from?"
Eddie grinned. "Yeah, that's where." He could tell this guy just barely recognized him and that it wasn't an act.
"God, Dustin would kill me. I can hear him now. Sorry, I'm probably not the kind of fan you like running in to."
"I'll take polite conversation over groveling any day. So do you know any of the member's names?"
"I know there's the guy Dustin likes the most because he can play drums and the bass. He admires talented people like that. And he goes on and on about this Eddie guy, but I can never remember which one-you?"
"Me, handsome", Eddie grinned. "And your name?"
"Steve. But I also answer to 'handsome'."
Steve. Eddie had to taste it on his tongue. "Steve. And were you waiting for Dustin before the rain brought you in?"
Steve smiled now, adjusting Eddie's jacket across his shoulders. "No, I wasn't really waiting for anyone. And before you ask, Dustin is definitely not my boyfriend. I'm completely untethered." Steve ran a hand through his hair, not so damp anymore after they had been talking.
"You gonna order something or keep taking up space at my bar?", the bartender asked.
"What's your poison, Steve?"
"Oh, I can't pay you back", Steve said.
"Then don't. Order something."
"I mean I really can't pay you back, Eddie. I was hanging around outside because I...because I'm between paychecks right now. And I'm not that kind of omega." Steve's shoulders hunched up in shame and he looked like he was about to remove Eddie's jacket.
"I didn't say you were. You don't have to pay me like that. I take many forms of compensation. Including sparkling dialogue with gorgeous men."
"Really?", Steve asked, voice flat in disbelief.
"Really."
Steve turned to the bartender. "Whiskey sour please."
Eddie smiled. "So, what's your opinion on farmed fish versus wild caught?"
---------------------------
Steve had been going through the worst day of his life. Work had been awful and he had wanted to scream. He ran out so quick that he forgot his jacket and was already halfway home when he remembered. He kept going. He wasn't going back there today. He got to his apartment, ready to fill his empty stomach with something only to find he was devoid of food.
Of course. He'd cleaned himself out with his last heat and hadn't gone grocery shopping since. He'd been eating out for the past week. And if he checked his bank account....
$10.43
And pay day wasn't for another three days. Steve was desperate. It was plenty of money if he went to the convenience store right outside his apartment. But the cashier there always gave him odd looks and he just didn't have the energy for it. He contemplated sending someone in to buy his stuff, but he wasn't feeling very trusting right now.
Which was how he ended up at the bar. The dollar store would've been an option last week, but it was a couple of miles away and his car was in the shop. He didn't even know what his plan was. Buy the cheapest drink and fill up on pretzels and nuts? It was why he was standing outside as the sun got lower, just feeling sorry for himself.
He just wished someone would take pity on him. Would see how hard he had been working and told him it was okay, he could take a break now and they'd take care of him.
Hell would probably freeze over first though.
Then the rain started and he couldn't waste time out here any longer. At least inside the bar, it was warm. Steve already wasn't looking forward to the walk home. What if it was still raining? He couldn't afford to get sick right now. He sat at the only empty seat at the bar and thought of the least pathetic way to ask for a cheap drink when something warm came over him.
It smelled of ginger and cinnamon and for a moment, Steve was drowning in it when he heard the owner of the jacket try to apologize for it and then take it back. Instinctively, Steve held onto it tighter.
"No, no, it's fine. I was cold. Thank you."
The alpha next to him said something about a boyfriend that Steve barely registered but figured out by context what he was asking.
"Don't have one." He shook his head and then actually looked the alpha up and down. Curly hair spilled over his shoulders and he looked smaller without the leather jacket that was currently over his own shoulders. There was something oddly familiar about him. Like he'd seen that face on his social media feed or something.
When Steve asked, he realized he was talking to a guy in Dustin's favorite band. He felt like an idiot. This guy was probably used to starstruck fans bowing at his feet and here Steve was, just treating him like a nobody. But try as he might, Steve couldn't pretend like he was some big deal, even imagining Dustin's lecture on proper celebrity sighting etiquette later didn't change things.
Then the alpha, Eddie his name was Eddie, introduced himself and then asked for his name, tacking on a compliment at the end of the question.
"Steve. But I also answer to 'handsome'." He couldn't help being a little hungry for some positive attention right now.
Then Eddie asked a very unsubtle question about Dustin, insinuating that he was some kind of boyfriend and Steve wanted to laugh. The little kid he had babysat that had been like the pain in the ass brother he never asked for definitely wasn't that. And he let Eddie know that.
"Dustin is definitely not my boyfriend. I'm completely untethered." He didn't know why he said it like that. He might as well have spread his legs and held up a sign that said 'open for business'. This guy was a literal rock star, he must have lustful groupies throwing themselves at him all the time. Wording it like that absolutely wasn't Steve intention. Even if his scent was so comforting and intoxicating.
Then the bartender urged them to order something and Steve felt his empty stomach drop. Eddie insisted on buying him a drink and Steve really wished he had the money for it because there was no way he was paying in any other way. And if Eddie was expecting that, he'd just as soon go back out into the rain, leaving the warm jacket behind.
"You don't have to pay me like that. I take many forms of compensation. Including sparkling dialogue with gorgeous men."
Steve searched his face for a bluff, any sign of dishonesty. But he saw none.
"Really?"
"Really."
So Steve ordered just as Eddie asked him something about fishing and clearly this night was not going to go the way he planned.
--------------------------
Eddie was halfway through his second drink and knee deep in a conversation about the pros and cons of fishing compared to hunting. Apparently Steve's dad took him out hunting before he presented and afterward, his grandfather took him out on a couple of fishing trips.
"One just seems more fair, is all I'm saying", Steve said, still nursing his first drink. "One has you sneaking up on an unsuspecting animal. The other one you're just luring them. Fish know what they're getting into. Deer don't until they're already in your sights."
"You think very highly of fish intelligence", Eddie noted.
"I once had a year long beef with a friend's pet fish. Long story. But fish are smarter than they look." Then Steve's stomach growled. Very loudly. Embarrassingly loud.
"I don't know about you, but all this fish talk is making me hungry", Eddie said. "Can I buy you dinner?"
"I suppose I've got about twenty bucks worth of more conversation in me", Steve smiled, appreciating what Eddie was offering.
Eddie paid the tab and Steve put his arms into the jacket, then remembered Eddie might want it since it was cold outside. "Did you want-"
"Keep it on. I run hot anyway and we just need to make it to my car." That was a lie, Eddie had the circulation of a failing newspaper but he liked the look of Steve in his jacket too much to give it up. And the rain had stopped so now it was just damp and cold outside.
Steve thought he should feel wary of getting into a car with a stranger, especially a famous one. But he had his phone on him and Eddie was taking him to a place with a lot of people, so it was fine. Eddie put his sunglasses on as they went inside and asked for a table in the back, which the person up front gladly accommodated.
"Not to toot my own horn", Eddie said as they were seated. "But I can never tell when and where I'll get recognized. And I don't want any tabloids tomorrow morning." Because right now, Steve didn't just look like some random guy that Eddie was wining and dining. Right now, he looked like he belonged to Eddie.
"Got any funny stories?", Steve asked.
Eddie grinned and rolled his shoulders as he got comfortable in his seat. "Well, there was the one time I was literally in a tv studio about to be interviewed with the band and someone thought I was the boom guy."
"If I was dressing up on Halloween as a boom guy, I think I'd put on this general look", Steve said, gesturing to Eddie's whole body.
"And there was the time I got recognized while at a fabric store. I'm standing in line, basket full of sewing supplies and a bunch of floral fabrics, and this woman in her sixties asks for my autograph."
"Aren't you in a metal band?"
"Yeah and some of our most hardcore fans are women over 40", Eddie said. "Don't underestimate 'em."
A waiter came by and took their orders and they kept talking. Steve couldn't believe how badly his day had started because now it felt like he was flying above the clouds. Eddie actually seemed interested in what he had to say. And Steve was constantly thrown by the different directions Eddie took the conversation. From fishing, to getting recognized stories, to horrible customers, to the perils of sailing a boat.
"Never?"
"I remember going once as a kid and was scared shitless the whole time", Steve said. "Whoever decided it was okay for me to watch Titanic in kindergarten really messed me up."
"So besides that one time you've never been on a boat?", Eddie asked.
"My parents tried getting me on a yacht once and I started hyperventilating on the dock. I stayed on the boardwalk", Steve said. Just one of the many ways he'd been a disappointment.
After the meal, Eddie offered to drive Steve home. He wanted to. But after drinks and food and talking to Eddie for so long about nothing at all, Steve felt cautious. Had his guard lowered? If he let Eddie see him to his door, would Eddie be expecting something? What made him even more hesitant was that he might let Eddie get away with it.
He was handsome and charming and had alleviated Steve's worries for a few hours. He was even going home with some leftovers in a box. For a second, Steve wondered if food was all it took.
"Hey, look, I understand if you don't want some strange alpha taking you home. What about if I just order you a ride?", Eddie suggested.
"You can take me home", Steve said quickly. "Just don't expect any dessert."
Before leaving, Eddie excused himself to use the restroom and Steve used that opportunity to do something that was probably really stupid. It was certainly pointless. But he could take a risk every now and then. He tore off a piece of the menu and used a pen at the podium up front and that was how Eddie found him.
"Ready to go?"
"Ready", Steve smiled.
The car ride was a little more quiet, both of them digesting both the food and what had happened tonight. Meeting a stranger that you clicked with, it didn't happen every day. Steve gave him his address and Eddie pulled up to the building.
"You should walk me up", Steve said. "Make sure I get there safe."
"Y-yeah, I can do that", Eddie stuttered, struggling with his seatbelt while Steve was already out of the car.
Eddie followed him to his apartment, glad now for the chill outside because otherwise he'd be sweating watching Steve's ass for so long as he walked in front of him.
"Well, this is me", Steve said.
"I had a great time tonight", Eddie said.
Steve laughed and ran a hand through his hair. "Can we come up with anymore first date lines?"
"Hmm, how's about I'd love to do this again soon?", Eddie smiled, leaning in a bit.
"I'd like that." Steve took Eddie's jacket off his shoulders.
"What if I want you to wear it for our next date?", Eddie asked.
"If you want me to wear this, you better scent it properly", Steve goaded.
Eddie pinned him against the door and smashed their mouths together. His jacket was trapped between their bodies. Steve let out a soft sound and brought a hand to Eddie's cheek.
"We can't go on a second date until the first one is over", Steve said when he pulled back. He curled a lock of Eddie's hair around his finger just because he couldn't help it.
"Your number?", Eddie asked, licking at Steve's lips.
"Check your jacket", Steve breathed.
Eddie didn't take his eyes off Steve as he went through his jacket pocket and found what Steve had been scribbling on earlier. It was a ripped piece of the menu. And it had Steve's number on it.
Part 2
If I had a nickel for every time I steddified a Marilyn Monroe song I'd have two nickels.
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hannyoontify · 9 months
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your cherry flavored kisses - choi seungcheol
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member | basketball player!seungcheol x student medic!reader ft. the rest of svt
genre | fluff, high school!au, established relationship!au, secret dating!au(?)
word count | 2.8k
synopsis | as his mom always said, kisses are the best kind of medicine for boo-boos
warnings | cursing, kissing, minor injuries, one joke about sex, reader is a bit shy when it comes to relationships and pda, a bunch of romantic cliches but pls js let me have this one 🥲
notes | realized that i can’t write intimate scenes for shit!!!! but also happy (late) birthday to the best leader!! hope your day was full of laughter and love because you deserve all of it and more <33
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The entire gym seemed to grimace collectively when Player #1 was shoved over by the opposing team member, and so did you. Choi Seungcheol, the captain and star player of your school’s varsity basketball team rolled over onto his back, clutching his knee and face scrunched up in pain. 
The stands booed when the zebra-patterned referee blew his whistle and signaled it as not a foul. Students and other on-lookers from both sides began to yell, petitioning that it was a flagrant foul, but the referee stood his ground. You and your friend Vernon ran out onto the basketball court with the stretcher as your school’s head coach tried to reason with the referee.
“Hey, hey. Seungcheol, where does it hurt?” Vernon asked as you set down the stretcher. You reached over and scooped your hands under the sweaty athlete’s shoulders, ready to lift him into the gurney. When you first joined your school’s new sports medicine and therapy program, you thought no one actually used the medical device and the school had invested in one just for show. Obviously, you now stand corrected.
“The area-” The brunette gasped for air. Every square inch of his face was glistening in sweat, the collar of his jersey absolutely soaked through. Seungcheol had been giving it his all this entire game, scoring almost 21 points and it was only halfway through the second period. This aggravated the opposing team, who were losing exponentially, enough for them to push Seungcheol over when he was dribbling down the court. “The area below my knee cap. Hurts like a bitch.”
Vernon nodded in understanding and glanced over at you. You returned his gaze with a determined nod of your head and the two of you gently lifted shifted him onto the carrier. 
“Sorry. Would try to help but-” Seungcheol’s words were cut off with a loud groan. “Can’t. Right now.”
You tightened your lips at the sight of his face stricken with pain and with the help of Vernon, heaved him up and carried the injured player out of the gym to the nurse’s office.
Once Seungcheol was laid down on a cot, Vernon ran off to find Ms. Jung, the school nurse who had momentarily left her post to “get some fresh air” while you looked for an ice pack. As soon your friend left the room, Seungcheol grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer from where he was lying down, forcing you to sit on the edge of the cot he was lying on.
You rolled your eyes and tried to pull away but he kept an iron grip on your wrist as he tried his best to make eye contact with you. “Are you mad at me?” He asked with a small pout.
“No, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You huffed, refusing to face his direction. From where he was lying, Seungcheol could catch a glimpse of your side profile. Your lips were jutted out into a firm pout and your cheeks puffed out. 
“I’m sorry, love. I tried to take it easy but you know how I get-”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I just… don’t like seeing you get hurt,” You said, in a much softer voice this time. “Damn you and your competitiveness. It doesn’t hurt to lose sometimes, you know.”
Seungcheol smiled when you turned around to finally face him. “Look at me, I’m all fine! I was just fibbing on the court to- OW WHAT THE FUCK?!”
Your boyfriend yelled out in pain when you poked at his knee, right below the kneecap where he said it was hurting earlier. “Fibbing, my ass. Stay here while I get an ice pack.”
Seungcheol whimpered in pain, rolling around on his back with his arms clenched around his leg while you searched through the mini freezer. He watched from behind, staring at your hunched over form. Despite the extreme pain he was currently feeling, he felt a warm feeling blossom in his chest that spread throughout his body all the way past his limbs to the tips of his fingers. God, he cared for you so much.
“Here, I think we ran out of ice packs so you have to use this bag of peas,” You came back with half a bag of iced peas, offering it to your boyfriend who looked up at you with teary heart eyes. 
(FYI, they were only teary because he was in immense pain.)
After sitting up, Seungcheol accepted the makeshift ice pack and pressed to his knee, knowing how to treat his injuries better than you or any other sports medicine and therapy student. You sat down next to him, gathering your knees close to your chest and lightly resting your head on his shoulder. It felt like your heart was going to leap out of your throat because of your close proximity.
You’ve had a crush on Choi Seungcheol for as long as you can remember. In elementary school, you found yourself drawn to him because of how he selflessly gave away all of his candy during lunch. (Looking back on it now, you might’ve been attracted to the candy not him, but that makes it sound less romantic so you like to leave that part out). In middle school, you always caught yourself staring in his direction because he was good. He excelled at whatever he did. He always knew the answers in math and shared interesting perspectives in English for a middle schooler. But he shone in gym class. Choi Seungcheol looked invincible with a ball in his hands, somehow pulling off the tacky and scratchy gym clothes that smelled like a mix of sweat and old socks. It was in eighth grade when you started doodling ‘[Name] Choi’ in the back of your math notebook before erasing frantically whenever your teacher walked by.
In high school, it was no different, except Choi Seungcheol just got really, really tall and really, really, really attractive. He was scouted into the school’s junior varsity basketball team as a freshman and became a point guard for the varsity team as a sophomore. He was completely out of your league. Choi Seungcheol was the star player of your school’s basketball team while you were just a staff member in your school’s newspaper. The closest you’ve ever gotten to Choi Seungcheol was when you assisted Seokmin in interviewing him after winning a game. 
That was, until this past summer. You were taking summer school classes to make room for sports med. and therapy in your schedule, and your seat partner was none other than Choi Seungcheol, who had failed Economics the semester before. It took you by surprise that the smartest boy you knew since third grade had failed a class, but you thought it was impressive that he even managed to take Economics as a junior. 
You found yourself bonding with the star player, joking around during class and taking turns to take naps so someone could take notes while the other slept. The system worked, and the teacher looked like they weren’t being paid enough to be there, so the two of you considered it a win. The entire summer flew by like that, talking and hanging out with Seungcheol, even outside of class. This was when you learned about his performance anxiety, his self-doubt, and the pressure he feels from not only his coach and teammates but also the rest of the school. You offered him the most comfort you could possibly muster; a few words of encouragement and a big, big hug. 
When Seungcheol asked you out on the last day of summer school, you didn’t see it coming at all. From what you knew, he only recently broke up with his past girlfriend, the captain of the cheer team. Everyone had said that they were like a match made in heaven, but evidently not, considering how messy their breakup was. But who were you to say no?
Fast forward two months, to your current situation. You guys weren’t intentionally keeping the relationship a secret, rather you were just shy and Seungcheol understood that. He promised you to wait patiently until you were ready. 
“Can I see your knee?” You asked softly. Seungcheol nodded and took off the bag of peas, revealing his now bruised knee. The skin was discolored in different shades of blue, black, dark purple, and green and you drew in a sharp breath. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
Seungcheol pouted and pointed to his cheek, where he had a small nick, probably a scratch from the other player as he fell. You smiled and cautiously brought your hand up to his face. Despite having been dating for well over 2 months, PDA still felt a bit awkward for you. You occasionally held hands and hugged, and you liked to rest your head on his broad shoulders. Seeing Seungcheol’s face this close to yours made your stomach erupt into butterflies and you could feel the heat quickly spreading up to your cheeks.
“Let’s get some ointment on this,” You left your spot and began digging through the medicine cabinets, ignoring the hot burning on the apples of your cheeks. Going through every cabinet except the one that actually held the ointment, you talked loudly to yourself and Seungcheol held back a laugh at the sight. He thought it was cute, how flustered you got at the smallest amounts of physical touch. “Here it is!”
You ceremoniously held up the treatment and bandage box up in the air with a triumphant grin and Seungcheol couldn’t help but return the smile. Sitting back down next to him, you ignored the fluttering in your stomach again as you dabbed on the ointment onto your boyfriend’s face, trying your absolute hardest not to stare into his dark, chocolate-y brown eyes or his pretty pink lips-
“[Name], sweetheart, the scratch is on the other side,” Seungcheol said softly and you wanted to dig a hole, crawl into it and stay there forever. Your lover simply chuckled at your quiet ‘sorry’. “You’re cute.”
Now you really need to dig a hole. This was getting too much for you.
“Psh. Whatever,” You mumbled under your breath as you finished applying the treatment and brought out the bandage kit. “Stay still or else I won’t finish treating you.”
Seungcheol tried his best not to move when he felt your fingers lightly grazing his skin, sending shivers down his spine. It tickled, and he giggled.
You bit back a smile and lightly hit him in his shoulder for laughing. “I told you not to move.” 
“I couldn’t help it! It tickles,” With a small shake of your head, you put the kit away and sat back down next to him. Seungcheol stared at you for a minute before speaking again. “[Name], I think you’re forgetting something.”
You looked at Seungcheol with a confused look. “What do you mean?”
He crossed his arms across his chest with a pout. “Aren’t I supposed to get a lollipop for being a good patient?”
God, he was not good for your heart.
“How could I possibly forget?” With a fond smile, you handed him a bright red heart shaped candy on a stick. “You have been a good boy, have a lollipop!”
Seungcheol’s eyes twinkled at your reference to one of his favorite movies and gratefully took the candy. “Okay, now one last thing.”
“What?”
He pointed towards his injured knee. “You need to kiss it to make it feel better! It’s a part of the official medical procedure. My mom said so, and she’s a nurse.”
You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s childish antics but nonetheless bent over to kiss his knee. “And when’s the last time she’s said that to you?”
Seungcheol thought about it. “When I was four or five. But it’s you, so it’s gonna work, I promise,” He beamed triumphantly and pointed towards his right wrist, where he had injured it last season. “Here too.”
Thus began a little game, where Seungcheol pointed at all of his injuries, new and old, and you would follow wherever his finger pointed to kiss it and make it feel better. It was his knee, then his wrist, his elbow, his shoulder blade, his collar, all the way up to his cheek.
Your face is inches away from Seungcheol’s and you were pretty sure he could hear your accelerating heartbeat that thrummed loudly in your chest and ears. The sudden close proximity makes your breath hitch as you glance down at the candy stick that stuck out past his pretty lips. The warmth that radiated off his body sent chills down yours as you locked eyes with him. 
You felt sick. You really, really needed to dig a hole.
With your hands fidgeting in your lap, you leaned in closer, almost feeling drawn to his presence, like a moth drawn to a light or a sailor drawn to the sweet melodies of a siren’s voice. You wondered if Seungcheol would also lead you to your demise, just like those sirens. 
He leans in even more, his warm breath ghosting over your lips. The lollipop was nowhere to be found but you could still smell the overly sweet artificial cherry flavor and you licked your lips. If you moved just the slightest bit, your lips would graze his. 
“Cheol... can I kiss you?” The words leave your mouth without thinking and you want to kick yourself. 
Seungcheol pulls away for a second to get a better look at you, his eyes darting between your eyes and your lips. “I’d be pretty sad if you didn’t.”
That was all the confirmation you needed before you screwed your eyes shut and pressed your lips against his. You felt your teeth knock against his and you winced, but Seungcheol didn’t seem to mind. His hands naturally find the side of your face and waist as he gently pulls you in deeper into the kiss. Your hands remain in your lap, ever fidgeting and fussing at the new feeling. 
His lips tasted like cherry. A swirling combination of the cherry flavored lollipop and his cherry flavored chapstick he always wore before his games. He claimed that his lips get chapped easily during the game when you questioned him about it once. You decided that this was your new favorite flavor. Combined with the feeling of his soft lips against yours, you wondered how you made it this far without kissing him. 
Seungcheol pulls away hesitantly, his hands still on their respective places on your cheek and waist. “Too much?”
You shake your head with a smile. “You taste like cherries. I like it.”
He took that as a sign to continue and pulled you back in. This time you were prepared and angled your face so as to not bump your teeth with his again. You smiled into the kiss, the fluttering feeling in your stomach making you feel even more giddy than before. One hand slowly made their way onto Seungcheol’s shoulder, gripping onto his jersey as his lips captured yours.
“So that’s why our captain’s been in a good mood lately.”
You basically shriek as you frantically pull away from Seungcheol, who seemed just as surprised to see his entire (sweaty) team standing by the entrance. In the front leading the group was Yoon Jeonghan, another star player who co-captained the team and Seungcheol’s best friend. He stood by the doorway with his arms crossed, an amused smirk pulling at his lips. You could see the rest of his teammates standing behind him, noticing Mingyu and Soonyoung who seemed excited out of their minds to catch their captain in love.
“Go awayyyy,” Seungcheol complained, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “Go bother someone else, I was doing something!”
You heard someone mumble, “More like doing someone,” that was immediately covered up with a cough.
“I heard that, Boo Seungkwan.” 
Jeonghan uncrossed his arms and took a step back. “We all came to check up on you but it seems like you got all the kisses you need to make your boo-boo feel better. I expect you to be on that court once halftime is over!”
You basked in the silence that followed soon after the 10 rowdy boys left. Guess the cat was out of the bag then.
“... Can I seriously play after halftime?”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Choi Seungcheol?!”
“Sorry, sorry! It was a joke!” A moment of silence before, “Can I kiss you again?” 
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reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^
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dejwrld · 5 months
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summary — international rockstar choso kamo is in love with the international popstar, y/n.
warning readers discretion is advised ⸻ female reader, female anatomy described, written with black reader in mind, mentions of descriptors of black reader (complexion, hair texture, culture), open to be read by all readers, profanity, angst, lovers to exes, told in third pov Chosoi's pov), mentions of drug and alcohol usage, opposite attracts trope, riding/cowgirl position, brief mention of oral (m.receiving), famous au, modern au, he falls harder trope, praise kink, rockstar choso x popstar!reader one shot
sticky note from deja — this was originally another character plot, but urgh i just think about rockstar choso a lot! well i think about choso a lot period. so here's a sweet treat to the choso gaggers.
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He liked her more than he had expected. He never was the one to be in a committed relationship—didn't quite go with the rockstar image as an artist, nor did it sell to the public. He thought it was better to sell into the stereotype that rock stars do hardcore drugs, can't remember their flings' names, and show up late to their sound checks for concerts. But here he was, staring at her as she peacefully slept on his chest as if she belonged there. 
Well, she did. She was different from the people he pursued romantically who entered his life and exited quickly when they realized they couldn't keep up with his lifestyle. She could handle the throat-cutting hate from fans because she had rabid fans. She could take the intrusive questions from music journalists because she had one of the world's best PR and media training teams. 
He didn't want to admit that he was falling in love with her. 
But, here, Choso was itching to smoke a morning cigarette but too afraid to wake her because she had a late recording session.
And don't get him started on the reckless shit he did while she was locked up in the studio last night. 
"Good morning," Her voice comes off like a whisper as if they were in a library with strict talking rules. She's placing tired kisses on Choso’s chest with a smile. 
"Mornin'," Choso mumbles back, his arms resting behind his head. His brown-colored eyes met her gaze when he felt her hand rubbing his thighs. "Don't you have to be at the studio in a couple of hours?" His right eyebrow, embedded with a piercing, raised at her. 
She chuckled, letting her hand rub against his cock that had hardened in the wake of morning wood. Betraying him entirely as he's inhaling sharply at her actions. 
"I just need two hours with you," She responds. "And maybe one to get ready." She adds before smiling. Her eyes glistened with lust, and Choso couldn't deny that look. 
"Help yourself." He responds, getting even more comfortable in his king-sized bed. His hands still rest behind his head because he wouldn't have cared for her to use him as she pleased. 
With a pleased smile, she leaned closer to peck his lips before leaving a trail of kisses on his bare chest and traveling downward to disappear under the gray-colored duvet that covered them both. 
Choso was waiting for her to notice the impulse thing he did yesterday. Quite afraid of her reaction because maybe he had gone a bit overboard. He wasn't sure she loved him as much as he loved her. 
Choso!" She climbs back from under the blanket and quickly tugs it off the two of them. "What the fuck is this?" Her acrylic tapered square-shaped nails trace alongside his waist, and that simple movement causes his pale skin to garnish with goosebumps. 
"Surprise cupcake." He gives her a cheeky grin. 
"Surprise my ass!" 
Just above his waist, stopping right where his white-haired happy trail ended, was her name in old English font. 
Y/N.
He couldn't read her facial expressions. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrow together in confusion, but her mouth held back a snicker. Y/N's fingers traced alongside the tattoo's outline that imprinted Choso's skin.
"I can't believe you did this insane shit." She stares at Choso and then at the tattoo before giggling. "You're so insane, but I love you for that." 
Choso didn't think she knew what she had just said because before he could respond, she was kissing the tattoo so delicately that it caused Choso’s toes to curl in anticipation. Her tongue traces the outline of each lettering on his skin, and Choso could feel the precum on his tip immediately stain his Calvin Klein boxers. 
"Fuck!" He breathed out, letting his head sink into the back of his hands resting behind his head. 
His boxers were removed, and soon, his body relaxed under the feeling of her tongue licking at the precum on his tip as if it were a sweet delight. He peeks through his long eyelashes at the way her tongue glides up and down his thick shaft before engulfing his cock in her mouth without a care. The sound of Y/N gagging on his cock followed by the sight of saliva pooling out her mouth caused Choso’s skin to heat up instantly. He removed one hand from the back of his head to palm at the top of her head. His fingers fiddle with the silk scarf that protects her hair for the night while he guides her head up and down his hardened cock like a sports ball on a court. 
His dark eyes opened and were met with Y/N’s, whose hands flickered up and down his cock before briefly letting the pad of her thumb rub at his plump pink-shaded tip, smearing the precum and saliva that coated it. It drove Choso mad at the way she looked at him. It was as if he was the best thing since sliced bread when, in reality, Choso was just some musician who, on some days, couldn’t even keep his eyes open as he was in the studio high on whatever drug he consumed that morning. 
She released his cock with a pop before she removed the remaining amount of clothes. First, it was the yellow-colored Calvin Klein cheeky underwear—she was a brand ambassador for them (of course, he knew that). Then, it was the oversized t-shirt that belonged to him that she managed to look better in. Her brown skin glistened in the sunlight that shone through the high-rise windows in Choso’s penthouse. The warmth of her thighs on his side from straddling his lip caused Choso to smile. His eyebrows raised in curiosity at what was her next move. When he said, help yourself—he didn’t expect her to want to ride him. 
His body tensed up at the feeling of her cunt sinking further down on his cock. His body instantly reacted immediately because that was just the charm Y/N had on him. The littlest things could have had his cock twitching in whatever pair of sweatpants he wore. His fingers clutched at her waist while he guided her hips at a pace that was wonderful for both of them to enjoy. Such a little thing like this made Choso realize even more why that insane impulse idea he did the previous night was even more justified. He was in love. He showed it when they had sex. From his last relationships and embarrassing one-night stands that led to signed NDAs, he didn’t care to use them for a quick nut and go on about his business. But with her, with Y/N, he made love to her as if, just in the blink of an eye, she wouldn’t be here anymore. He ate her out as if it was the last thing he had eaten in fuckin’ centuries. He wanted all of her when he had a vision to please her when they had sex. 
“Look at you,” Choso’s voice is a sweet, teasing tune, similar to his most recent single. His fingers trace the outline of her stretch marks that connect from her thighs to her love handles. “Helpin’ yourself. Need help?” He chuckles.
Quickly, he’s thrusting his hips upward to meet Y/N’s sudden bounce. He felt her nails piercing his bare chest, bracing herself for his abrupt thrusting. Her plump, kiss-swollen lips gasped apart to let out a moan that caused Choso to feel feral. He wanted to flip her over—have his fuckin’ way with her. Fuck her into the mattress to show to her that she was his and only his. It was the only way—but no, Choso had to let her do her. Let her fuck him how she pleases. 
So the grasp he had on her waist loosened. His thrusts that met with her bouncing abruptly stopped, and he relaxed under her weight. The only thing the rockstar could do was glance up at her completely lovestruck—completely pussy drunk. 
“Thought you were helping me, hm?” She questions in between raspy whimpers that make Choso’s cock harder. 
“You’re a big girl, and you got it covered.” He spat back.
She couldn’t even respond to his words because she got lost in the pleasure of his cock kissing at that spot, which caused her to feel like she was on the fluffiest cloud. Her hips rocked backward and forwards. The headboard clashed against the wall, and Choso thanked every God that the property next to his was empty. He did not have the energy or time to deal with noise complaints. Especially given Y/N’s moans that only grew louder as she bounced on his cock as if it was the most critical task. He was trying so hard not to grab upon her, slam her harder on his cock—milk her out until she creamed on him. But no, he told her to help herself. 
“That’s my girl.” His brown eyes met hers when those words of praise fluttered off his lips.
If Choso could look close enough, he could see a sparkle in her eyes, and her pussy clench around his cock. 
“You’re doing well, Y/N. Is that what you want to hear?” He teasingly questioned. “You look so fucking beautiful riding me.” He adds, but this time—he no longer could control his impulse to feel upon his girlfriend. 
He ached for her touch. 
His hand finally found the place on her waist to help bob her upon his cock. His face flushed and was so hot— Choso knew that when his face got as red as the bottom of Y/N’s favorite red bottoms, he was about to cum. He felt his balls grow heavier with each pounce of Y/N, and the only thing he could utter was her name as if it was a lyric in one of his songs charting on the Billboard 100. 
“Fuck, I’m about to—” His words were cut off by Y/N.
“Me too, baby.” She huffs, rocking her hips fast to reach her pleasure wave. “Just tell me one thing, baby. Please.” She coos, and Choso can only nod. 
Whatever she wanted, she could have. Whatever she needed, she could get. Choso would give her the whole world plus some with how she rode him. 
“Tell me you love me.”
“Fuck, Y/N. You know I love you. I wouldn’t get your name tattooed on me.” Choso breathed out. 
“But I want you to say it when you cum,” She moans out. “So you have it imprinted on that silly brain of yours who makes you feel like that.”
Choso glanced into her eyes and realized she was serious about this. He was yanking her down so that her chest was on his and thrusting his hips upward, embracing her in a heated kiss that made him feel intoxicated. He was so intoxicated that he was questioning whether he should pull out now. Her teeth nibble at his lower lip just in time for them to come together. The feeling of her cunt pulsing around his cock drove the rockstar insane. When he pulled back from the kiss, his sweat-covered forward pressed against hers as he thrusts a couple more times, ensuring every droplet of his cum stayed inside her. 
“I love you, Y/N.” 
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cheerioskid · 5 months
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moon goddess pearl and sun god grian from the moonrise au by @germworms and i!!
more explanation below
basically pearl and grian are siblings and they both control the sun and moon on the world the au takes place on (we called it "square earth" hehe)
their respective prophets are mumbo and bdubs (mumbo stayed up all night anyway working on redstone contraptions so pearl figured he would be the best candidate and bdubs always sleeps through the night and enjoys the day so grian chose him) theres silly sibling beef between them bc mumbo is grians fav human and pearl just had to choose him :)
overtime grian starts to worry that he's falling into the habits of the old sun before him, joel--a collapsed star who turned himself into a black hole and brought the old moon goddess, lizzie, with him into nothingness and obscurity (may make a post about them later)
in an attempt to avoid this or at least postpone it, grian disappears to live life as a "human" in disguise (he's tired of working as a god anyway) and forgoes his duty for an indefinite amount of time. no one else, not even pearl, knows where he's gone
without the sun to warm the land the season remains as winter (called the "red winter" bc of how much death occurs) many humans suffer, leading them to resent pearl for what's going on. pearl is trying desperately to work with the other gods (mainly bigb) to figure out where her brothers gone but to no avail
that's all for now!! stay tuned for more updates and check out Sea (germworms) as well!!!
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baylardian-1 · 7 months
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Some Liams! A few of these are inspied from @jellybeansarecool's fic Liam Squared I just love the idea of him being really clingy and quiet with his momma. <3 Ummmm and the rest are just kinda him putzing about and wandering and gardening. I think he'd be kinda quiet and maybe a little independent for his age, just kinda does his own thing as everyone watches him. And a lil backpack to carry Sneakers in. :)
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drunk-on-dk · 8 months
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Tight Laced | Kim Mingyu (m)
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Pairing: shop clerk!mingyu x afab!reader Genre: fluff, smut, roller-rink!au, 70s!au Rating: 18+ (minors do NOT interact) w/c: ~4.7k
warnings under the cut!
warnings: reader is on a budget and a bit clumsy; reader is called a square; explicit smut scenes; protected sex!; oral (fem receiving); sensitivity from multiple orgasms (fem); marking; public sex(?); mingyu hooking up on the job (?); desperate, whiny Mingyu; pls lmk if I’m missing anything; apologies as there may be some errors
a/n: I’m so excited to be back with a new post, especially as part of the 70s;teen collab with @svthub. I’m so thankful to be a part of another collab, it was so fun to really get into writing again and take some time to really enjoy writing a fluffier piece. Please be sure to go give love to each of the creators in the collab, they are all amazing, please go to this link to give their works a read!
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Roller skates and Saturday night disco lights.
You wanted nothing to do with it, especially when most of your days were spent in your college’s library, trying to rack up as much spare change that you could with such a low paying part-time job.
Nevertheless, the job was arguably worth it. The library was peaceful, and the downtime allowed for studying. Other than classes, you really didn’t stray far from organizing shelves and spending nights at the cozy cavern of books that funded your education.
Which is exactly why it was shocking to your roommate, the outgoing and spunky Julie, when you strolled home at your usual time on Saturday afternoon and showed a bit more curiosity as she prepped for the night’s events. As per usual, her free-spirited attitude helped loosen you up after your morning shift, plopping down on your leather couch with a huff of relief.
“What’s so fun about going to the disco rink every weekend?” You pondered aloud, observing as she packed away her roller skates into her mini duffle, an anxious hand of yours reaching out to the pet rock sat on the end table.   
“Oh, c’mon, Y/N,” Julie exhaled with a smile, spinning around to show her typical skating garb, pin straight hair whipping around her shoulder like a movie star. As per usual, she sported nylon disco shorts and a fun colorful top. “It is so fun to get dressed up, skate around, socialize, and groove to some great music. You’ve got to try it one day! It’s freeing, and God knows you need some of that.”
You chuckle, unable to deny that maybe, just maybe, it would be nice for you to get out and let loose for once. It does seem like a good time, especially since Julie never misses a single weekend since the rink became the hot spot, but you know all too well that she is the most positive person you’ve ever met.
As if Julie can sense your consideration, she gasps, clearly excited to make her next suggestion. “Why don’t you join me tonight, Y/N?”
“I don’t even have skates,” you counter, but it’s a feeble argument, knowing that it won’t suffice as an excuse for Julie. “You also know I’m a klutz,” you add, whining, as if that makes it any better.
“Well, we can get you a pair. They are sold cheap at the shop in the rink, or you can rent them. Plus, if you end up falling, just hang around and enjoy the music. Don’t be such a square.”  
It’s a solid argument, Julie can practically see your walls crumbling down as you finally accept her invite to join her for the first time in the past year. It’s all a blur as Julie squeals, immediately dragging you towards her closet and holding up options for tonight.
As if you were Julie’s own personal Barbie doll, she quickly dresses you in what she finds suitable for your first night out. A pair of cut-off shorts and a colorful halter top to match hers. She doesn’t forget the finishing touches, pulling out a pair of thick socks for the both of you.
“Believe me, don’t forget to wear these,” she states, hinting at the risk of blisters, but they suit the final outfit regardless.
Before you have the chance to change your mind, you find yourself alone at the skate shop, considering if you should just purchase a pair of skates or rent them.
However, you were already enjoying yourself, the car ride to the rink with Julie’s friends was fun, and the appeal of the night was already becoming clear. Maybe it would be worth it to just suck it up and buy a pair. Julie had offered to stick around and help you with the skates, but you shooed her off to ensure she made the most of her night, promising that you’d join her sooner than later if all goes well.
You’re lost in your thoughts, the sound of ABBA reverberating in the background as you compute and make mental calculations on how much money you can spare to spend on a new pair of skates. That is up until a larger figure situates himself on the counter across from you.
“Aren’t they slick?” Dark, almost puppy-like eyes meet yours, the sudden presence of the shop clerk in your personal bubble snapping you back into reality.
It’s almost hard to speak, the clerk is a handsome man with fluffy raven locks, and, to be quite honest, you’re not so sure what he’s calling ‘slick.’ “Pardon me, but which ones are you referring to?”
“Oh,” he laughs shyly, his head flipping between you and the skates behind him almost nervously. “I’m not quite sure myself actually, I thought you may have been looking at the skates on the top right shelf, usually people just need some words of encouragement after they’ve been looking for so long.”
Goodness gracious, he is endearing, you think. There is something so boyish about his presence that makes you feel a bit more comfortable around him, even if he has looks of a Casanova actor.  Even if his arms are rippling as he shifts his weight on the counter in front of you.
“Well,” you pause, taking a second to read the name on his name tag, “Mingyu, is it?”
He nods, a little too eagerly and you’re almost worried he’s going to shake up all the blood in his head.
“I have been looking at all the pairs, Mingyu. Just not sure on the price, and I’m not so sure it’s worth buying a pair if I don’t even know how to skate. Any recommendations?”
Mingyu considers your situation for a minute before turning around to face the shelving behind him. You can’t help but blush slightly, finally noticing his tight corduroy pants that accentuated the length of his legs. He seems to settle on a pair quickly, dropping them on the counter in front of you with a satisfied look on his face. The slam of the skates on the counter pulls you out of another bout of spacing out.
“Alright, space cadet, I’d recommend these. They are great for someone on a budget, but the wheels won’t lock up on you and they look nice too,” he’s a good salesman, they do look nice, but you still find yourself worrying more than one should for a leisurely activity like this.
Mingyu senses your reluctance and decides to throw in one last sales pitch, “plus, if you purchase these now, I will throw in a free skating lesson with the one and only professional roller-skater.”
“Hmmm,” you hum, hesitant fingers running over your purse zipper as you wait for the punch line. “And who would that be?”
“Me! Who else would it be?” Mingyu exclaims, his bright smile immediately reflecting one onto your face. He seems so pure and kind; how could you even say no to the offer?
“You’ve sold me,” you laugh, finally diving into your purse and gathering up the right amount of bills to make the transaction.
Mingyu is swift with accepting the money, wasting no time to hand you the change before promptly starting on the laces, blabbering mindlessly about how you won’t regret your purchase. Honestly, he’s talking too quickly for you to even process what he is saying.
It was quite astounding how he so easily sold you on the skates. He could be twisting your arm for all you know, but his smile seems so earnest, so you’ll give it a shot.
Worst case, you’ll come back on another day when he isn’t working and attempt to return the skates.
“Are you ready? Let me help put these on you,” Mingyu asks, dropping a ‘Be Right Back in 15 minutes’ break stand on the counter and skating around through the back gate with your new skates in hand.
He guides you to a nearby seat and starts explaining the best way to lace up your skates. Mingyu asks for your name at some point, and all you can do is stutter out your name nervously in response. It’s all garbled after that, your mind going blank as it becomes increasingly difficult to focus as his fingers help lace up your new skates, large hand wrapping around your ankle and sending goosebumps up your spine when he deems they are laced tightly enough.
“Laces too tight?” He asks, the question innocent, but the way his eyes flicker up towards yours sends heat right to your lower stomach.
“Nope, all good. At least I think.”
Mingyu chuckles, sensing your nerves and patting your knee in support, “alright, well get up then. Let’s try them out.” He slaps his thighs before standing upright, holding a large hand out for you to take, and pulling you up with him.
Feeling like you were just born with new legs, you’re hesitant to start moving, and you quickly realize how precarious the skates are. Instinctually, you grasp onto Mingyu polo, and he is quick to give you tips on how to keep you balance.
Mingyu assists in guiding you towards the rink, reminding you of techniques on keeping balance, and letting you know you two will take a lap slowly around the rink first.
It doesn’t take long for Julie to notice you two, her jaw dropping when she sees you latched onto the stranger for dear life as he holds your hand, pulling you along the side walls of the rink.
She sends you a look from across the rink, hair flowing in the wind before she slows down her speed. You shrug, a blush coloring your cheeks as Mingyu attempts to regain your attention by tugging gently on your fingers.
“Sorry about that,” you apologize, almost stumbling and falling backwards as you redirect your attention, but Mingyu is quick-thinking to steady you. “I’ll focus better, I know your time is precious as a professional roller skater.”
It’s an attempted joke, and warmth fills your chest when he laughs, his eyes lighting up with joy as he does a little wiggle move in an attempt to prove his skills to you.  
“No worries let’s keep on truckin,” he winks, continuing the lesson without another beat passing. His hands stay linked with yours, skating backwards easily as he corrects your feet from a pigeon-toed position to pointing outwards.
Time goes by too quickly with Mingyu, he’s all too charming for you, and the wind that flows through his and your hair as you skate together makes it feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You can understand why Julie loves Saturday night skates so much, the atmosphere is phenomenal, Julie occasionally slapping your behind when she passes by and thanking Mingyu for his help.
Skating also sounds especially appealing if Mingyu is here on these nights.
It’s disappointing when the night comes to an end. Julie has to practically tear you away from Mingyu’s skate shop, especially since he had to return back to the counter after a couple of laps, but he continued to spend the night and share tips with you. He even agreed to give you another free lesson.
Of course, you ended up joining Julie the next weekend for another skate, absolutely satisfying her as well. As exhilarating as it was knowing that you got to see Mingyu again, it was also exciting having more time with Julie, and being able to enjoy the hobby she loved so much with her. You’d even claim that some of Julie’s free-spiritedness was rubbing off on you finally.
Shockingly, you had denied picking up another shift at the library. Your boss wasn’t quite happy with your response, but Julie had encouraged you with a thrilled “stick it to the man” before dragging you out for another night.
Ultimately, Julie was right, skating was absolutely freeing, and you now had something to look forward to on the weekend other than spending hours of your life working.  
However, inevitably, weeks passed rapidly, and you surprisingly became quite good at skating after how frequently you’ve visited the rink.
It’s been about a month since first joining Julie at the rink. Now you’ve become addicted to the weekend, absolutely looking forward to the loud music of the disco rink, colorful lights, and especially having the chance to see Mingyu’s dazzling smile.
Now you find yourself gliding across the floor much easier now, Mingyu signaling a thumbs up each time you pass by the skate shop, looking proud of how well you’re able to keep up with Julie as she drags you beside her and sings along with the Bee Gees, ABBA, and Donna Summer songs.
Sometimes you even do a little spin on the skates to show your new and improved skills. It makes both Mingyu and Julie laugh, Mingyu shouting “groovy moves” towards you both as you begin to coordinate your spins.
Yet, there’s a twinge of disappointment inside of you, knowing you no longer have the excuse that you’re poor at skating, and will no longer require the assistance of Mingyu. Thus, no longer feeling the burn of his fleeting touches as he helped encourage you to skate faster. No longer feeling the flames erupt inside your belly as he held your waist to balance you. No longer feeling his hot breath on your neck as he spoke instructions near your ear, even if it was just so you could hear him over the blaring music.
The only thing that kept you fed was that he only seemed to smile at you each time you passed by, even when most rink attendees had their eyes on him as well.
Julie seems to catch onto your fleeting looks, nudging you as a slower song came on to cool the rink, the lights dimming low and the disco ball being the only light radiating the rink. Mingyu’s tied up helping another girl around your age at the counter, her flirtatious nature clear as she covers his hand with hers.
Mingyu seems unsure about this advance, withdrawing his hand, but politely helping the girl with her rental skates.
“You two are ridiculous,” Julie sighs, “he’s clearly into you, you’re clearly into him, and both of you are too well-mannered to say anything. Hold on.”
Before you can say anything, Julie kicks your ankle, it’s a light kick, but it’s hard enough that it makes you bend over in slight pain. Like the speed of light, Julie is stomping off and skating over towards Mingyu’s shop. You can’t tell what she says to him, clearly pointing towards you, and you’re already preparing for the worst by the way Mingyu’s eyebrows raise almost up to his scalp.
Julie looks smug as Mingyu rushes towards you, the look of concern on his face making your heart beat a little too abnormally as you grip onto the sidewalls of the rink for support.
“Are you okay, Y/N? Why aren’t you sitting down? Julie should have taken you off the rink,” he seems stressed, quickly making his way into the rink and examining your bent over state.  
“Oh,” you gasp when Mingyu’s arm wraps around your waist, encouraging you to lean all your weight into his broad body. “What do you mean? Julie just – “
“Your ankle,” he mutters, looking down at your feet worriedly as he finally sits you on a bench off the rink. “We need to get these skates off, come back to the shop with me really quickly, I have a med kit in the backroom, and I can wrap your ankle up.”
You don’t know what to say, unsure of the turn of events, shooting Julie daggers with your eyes as Mingyu carries you past her, but she looks all too smug for your liking.
Mingyu is prompt, carrying you into the backroom of the shop and propping you up on a small counter next to a sink. It’s a small room and it’s a tight fit for the two of you. The proximity is enough to make you feel dizzy as he searches for the med kit.
Mingyu’s deft fingers work expertly to unlace your skates, he sighs as his warm hands run over the lace marks left on your ankles where your socks didn’t cover. There’s also a clear red mark from where Julie had kicked your ankle.
“Does it hurt a lot? It doesn’t look like it’s bruising just yet,” He looks over your ankles worriedly, but quickly notices nothing is wrong.
“Um,” you quiver awkwardly, your cheeks becoming as bright as red roses as his soft eyes meet yours. “No, it doesn’t really hurt, but I didn’t injure myself. Blame Julie.”   
He chuckles, shaking his head in exasperation with a small smile as he begins to realize the set up done by Julie. “I knew Julie might have been bullshitting. I told her you looked like a pro out there, but I know how clumsy you can be, space cadet, so I thought you may have actually hurt yourself.”
You hadn’t noticed Mingyu’s hands running up and down your thighs in a comforting motion until silence fell between you two.
“Well,” you breathe out, the air escaping your chest shakily as you become increasingly aware of how close you really were to Mingyu now. The goosebumps that paint your skin didn’t help hide the effect Mingyu had on you as well. “I’m OK now, so can you just put my roller skates back on?”
Mingyu nods, warm hands now leaving your skin and leaving a burning spot behind as he picks up your skates on the ground. The slight whimper you let out didn’t go unnoticed by Mingyu as his shoulder brushed your knees on the way back up.
Subconsciously, your legs begin to move without second thought, opening a bit wider and allowing for Mingyu to slot himself between your thighs. The air around you two begins to feel suffocating as his fingers softly grab your ankle once again, just like the first time, and sending heat right down to your lower stomach.
“Are you sure you’re OK, Y/N?” Mingyu breathes out, his fingers wrapping around your right ankle and lifting your leg up a bit teasingly. “You seem like you can’t catch your breath? Are you sure it doesn’t actually hurt?”
You know he’s teasing you now, his voice dropping an octave lower as he stares directly into your eyes between his dark lashes. The way he massages your ankle hints that he knows damn well that your ankle is perfectly OK.  
“Yes,” you gasp as his finger dips into your sock, slowly unraveling the material and blowing on the exposed skin of your leg.
“Does it tingle?” He whispers, voice so deep that it practically reverberates through your head.
“Yes,” you’re practically whimpering as his hands run up your calf, past your knee, and over your thighs until his fingers reach the cutoff of your shorts.
“Good or bad?” His fingers dig at your skin gently, pressing into the sensitive skin as his lips close in dangerously towards yours.
“Good,” you sigh, you could practically feel his lips against yours at this point, your entire body tingling with desire as he closes in on you. It’s practically electrifying.
“Is this OK with you, Y/N?”
“Of course,” and with your consent, Mingyu presses his lips against yours, the soft buds melding against yours without much effort.
He’s quick to devour you, tongue sliding across your lips begging for permission. Of course, you oblige, accepting the deepened kiss needily. Mingyu’s fingers slide even further under your cutoffs, making the kiss between you two even hungrier as you feel his nails dig into your plush skin.
Mingyu whimpers into your mouth when your hands find their way into his hair, the sound of him driving you closer to insanity as he lets you lead the kiss for a bit. You’re amazed by how pliable he is, loving the way he presses closer to you with each gentle pull of his thick locks.  
Breaking the kiss for a moment, Mingyu hums, “can I take these off of you, Y/N?” He’s pulling at the waistband of your shorts now, the desperation of his tone making your entire body buzz with anticipation.
“Of course,” you sound winded, but Mingyu sighs in content, hastily working to remove your shorts after swiftly unbuttoning the waistband. He’s quick to capture your lips with his again, the hunger clear in the way he pushes into you, easily pulling your shorts off and discarding them on the floor.
Mingyu’s eyes are wild when he leans back to observe you, his look darkening as he focuses in on your bare thighs. He practically loses his mind when he notices a wet spot on your panties, the cotton slightly darkened and he’s dropping to his knees before you can protest.
He’s at a perfect height, large hands grabbing onto your ass in order to pull you towards the edge of the counter, his eyeline leading right where you’re the most vulnerable.
“Can I please taste you?”
“Please,” you beg, head throwing back in pleasure when he slots his mouth over your panties, nose nudging your most sensitive spot as he sucks at the wettened fabric. His mouth his hot on your clothed cunt, sending a ping of delight through you as he licks at the cotton. “Not enough.”
Mingyu moans as if to acknowledge your plea, one finger hooking at the fabric before his tongue dives between your folds. He’s immediately messy with his actions, tongue lapping passionately, tasting as much of your sweet nectar as possible as he works you closer and closer towards your first burst of overwhelming heat within your core.
Your hands are weaved in his hair again, encouraging him to lap and suck on your clit as the pulses of pleasure become even more unbearable to hold. He coaxes you to your first orgasm with one sharp suck to your clit, your juices spill out all over his tongue as he gladly licks it all up.
Mingyu doesn’t give you much time to recoup, standing back up to kiss you hungrily, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue as he begins to work at his belt buckle. With your help, he’s able to pull his corduroys off, reaching for a condom in his wallet before dropping the pants to the ground.
He’s unable to roll it on himself as you kiss and nibble at his neck, desperate whines escaping Mingyu’s mouth as you decide to take over. He feels a bit of relief when you work it onto his cock easily, the tight latex squeezing his aching length as you begin to slowly jerk him off.
Mingyu’s close to losing his mind when your hips buck in anticipation, your small hand still working at his length, and he stutter out a request. “C-Can I- please feel you completely?”
“Yes,” you moan, hips lining up with his as his tip glides between your folds, sensitivity sending a jolt through your body when he brushes your clit. “God, Mingyu, just do it.”
Mingyu’s length slowly enters you, your walls sucking him in without hesitation, waves of pleasure immediately warming you as his length and girth fills you all too perfectly.
Mingyu’s hands are gripping at your hips, his own muscles shaking as your walls take him in easily. You’re squeezing his cock in a way that has him moaning a bit too loud, your shushes reminding him that he is at work, and you are still in the rink. Even if the music drowns out your noises.
His thrusts are slow at first, ensuring that you can take every inch of him before he picks up his pace. Mingyu’s moans only get louder as your walls begin to pulse, squeezing with each unforgiving thrust of his hips, becoming groans as he dips his head into your neck, teeth sucking harshly at your skin as you breathe out in ecstasy.
He’s precise with each thrust, his tip nailing a spot so deep inside of you that you begin to see stars as your eyes roll back in pleasure. Your hands grip at Mingyu’s back, an attempt to ground yourself as Mingyu’s length fills you so deliciously, that you think you’ll be addicted for the rest of your life.
“Holy shit,” you cry out at one particularly hard thrust, the fiery heat building at your core, and you’re not sure how much longer you can keep quiet, nor how much longer you can keep your second orgasm at bay. “M-Mingyu.”
Something flips in Mingyu when you moan out his name, hand coming up to grab you chin as he forces your eyes to meet his. His pace quickens impossibly, his pubic bone brushing against your clit occasionally and bringing you closer to your breaking point.
He’s egged on by the wild look in your eyes, your swollen lips as his name falls from your mouth like a prayer, and he encourages you to come as obscene sounds come from the space where you and he connect.
“Make a mess of me, Y/N,” he pleads, even when he’s hammering into you there’s a hint of desperation in his tone, and all you can think about is making him fall apart himself. Your walls clench tighter around him, pulling yet another groan from him as the burning pleasure in your core explodes throughout your body, your thighs shaking as you feel the release spread like wildfire.
Mingyu is quick to follow, hot cum filling the condom inside of you, sending a second wave warmth throughout your core as his cock pulses. Mingyu’s canines dig deeply into your shoulder in attempt to hide his groans, only intensifying the sensitivity of your throbbing clit as he continues to thrust shallowly inside of you, riding out his high until the last second.
You’re like two naïve kids in love when he pulls his length out, tossing the soiled condom into the trash and making a note to really clean up the backroom before he leaves tonight. He giggles bashfully into your neck, observing the dark marks he left from his attempts to muffle his noises, but it only leaves him desiring this more and more. His nose comes up to nudge yours, pulling you in for one final sweet kiss.
“What about another lesson?” He whispers between kisses. “Looks like you’re a pro out there now.”
“I don’t think I’ll be needing those anymore,” you giggle, squirming as Mingyu fixes your panties back into place. He looks a bit disappointed, as if he’s unsure where to go from here. Slowly he helps you get dressed, buttoning up your shorts after he pulls his own pants back on.
“Y/N?” Mingyu tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, and you nod expectantly. “You know I don’t just give out free lessons to anyone, right?”
You almost laugh boisterously, but you simmer down quickly as Mingyu’s lips form a slight pout. “Oh really?”
“Yes, really,” he says very matter of fact, “I only offer them to the most special of people. I even tied your laces extra tightly to make sure you wouldn’t twist your ankle. Yet look where we are now.”
“Well, I did learn from the best,” you prod, “I guess you didn’t teach me to watch out for Julie’s though.”
Mingyu chuckles, the same endearing sound you’ve grown used to. “That’s true, I guess no professional could have been prepared for Julie’s antics.”
“So, what now?”
“What about a date? Or a couple’s skate? Think you can keep up with me?”
You laugh teasingly, “how about can you keep up with me?”
“I should have never sold you those skates,” Mingyu jokes, pinching your nose, but his eyes give away that he’s in way too deep, absolutely head over heels about you. “Why don’t we go test that out? How about we test out that theory every weekend?”
Roller skates and Saturday night disco lights. How could you have ever wanted nothing to do with these two things?
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giorno-plays-piano · 3 months
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Binary Star
Part I
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Pairing: academic rival!Satoru Gojo x reader
Warnings: yandere, obsession, power play, hurt/comfort, no curse au, this series will get darker as the story progresses.
Words: 1.2k
Summary: It has to pay off, he thinks as he waits for the headmaster to finally announce the valedictorian, knowing she is there too, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently. What face is she going to make when his name will be called? Is she going to cry? To yell at him and publicly demand a re-evaluation? Or will she, perhaps, finally admit he's done a fantastic job and won fair and square?
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He is really going to get her this time. This is the finish line, quite literally: the graduation; his last attempt to win and emerge victorious from the very last battle between him and her. It has to be it.
If he couldn't win against her for the last time, Gojo would probably have a mental breakdown right in the middle of the ceremony. Geto standing right next to him rolls his eyes to the ceiling over his friend who's shaking from excitement and fear. Of course, Satoru wouldn't admit it even under torture, but Suguru knows better. The girl his friend has been competing with throughout high school isn't just smart: she's completely insane like Gojo and as big pain in the ass as him. Who knows, perhaps she'll really win this round. He prefers not to think of it.
Satoru searches for her in the crowd, standing on his toes despite already being a foot taller than anyone else in the hall. Is she here? This nightmarish woman who has been pushing him to give high school his all because she dared to take away his crown of the best student during their freshman year? When Satoru saw the scores, he thought he might have had a heart attack. There was no way he was no longer #1.
"That's what you get for messing around the chem lab," Shoko snorted while Satoru dumbly stared at the name of that annoying girl, always the teachers' pet, heading the list. His name was written right under hers.
What the actual fuck?! She got a better score than him? Him, the genius, with his undeniably superior IQ of 180 that he flaunted at any given time? Who did she think she was, Sheldon Cooper or something?
It got him so fired up he actually started studying.
"You're so dumb," Geto eventually said after his friend had gotten in the argument with the girl during their ethics class - again. "You know you could be making out with her now, right? She's the only person who could actually get along with your stubborn ass."
"Wha-a-at? What about you?" Immediately disregarding his question, Satoru was already pouting like a kid. "Wouldn't you date me?"
"Yeah, over my dead fucking body."
To be fair, it's not that Gojo never thought of her that way - she was pretty, even if he was never going to admit it out loud - but she was also so insufferable Gojo really couldn't focus on anything else but beating her in that game they were playing. The best score on the history exam? They both wanted it. Math test? Him and her were working on those questions as if their lives depended on it. Biology project? Satoru made sure to do the impossible, submitting something he would get a Noble prize for, and yet he still somehow managed to get the same grade as her. It was absolutely infuriating.
Why on Earth did she decide she could be better than him? He was Satoru Gojo, after all. The one and only son of Gojo family, who was not only embarrassingly rich but also fucking smart - his parents used to flaunt his talents throughout his whole childhood and continued doing it well into adulthood. He couldn't tell them he was no longer #1. What would his mother say? Dear God, it was hard to imagine what would happen to his father of he learned some random girl got a better grade for that English paper than him. It was, at the very least, unbecoming of Satoru.
But she was unrelenting, irritated with his status of the school genius, and ready to fight him on every occasion. Satoru had no idea what could piss her off so much - in the end, he was the most charming guy around, wasn't he? - but there wasn't a day she'd let him have his way. She was brave, persistent, and knowledgeable, and he hated her very much.
The fact that Shoko and Suguru were asking him to please get together with her and stop antagonizing the whole school only riled up Gojo even more. As if he was going to date that nerd!
When he learned she'd be running for the valedictorian, it was the last drop. No fucking way. She couldn't take it away from him - even if he had never actually cared about being a valedictorian.
If his friends had thought he was obessessing over her, now they realized Satoru went completely nuts. He started studying so much he barely slept: it was a given, considering the bags under his eyes were making his skinny ass look like a starving raccoon. Geto couldn't drag gim out even in between lessons because Satoru was immediately burying his head in the books.
It has to pay off, he thinks as he waits for the headmaster to finally announce the valedictorian, knowing she is there too, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently. What face is she going to make when his name will be called? Is she going to cry? To yell at him and publicly demand a re-evaluation? Or will she, perhaps, finally admit he's done a fantastic job and won fair and square?
Pfft, of course she won't. She'll probably stab him in the parking lot once he tries to get into his car.
But when the headmaster finally announces the results, and his, Satoru Gojo's, name is called, he no longer sees her in the crowd, and the sweet taste of victory suddenly turns to ashes in his mouth.
Where is she? She couldn't have known it would be him. To be frank, he didn't either. How could she leave right before the results were announced?
He gives his speech with a stupid smile plastered all over his face, but his mood has already soured. She had to be there to hear he was named this year's valedictorian! What face did she make? Did she leave right after she heard it wasn't her? Did she cry? Did she run away because she couldn't take it? Wasn't she going to say to him anything at all?
How could she just... vanish?
He doesn't know why he expected her to be the bigger person and come tell him he did great, but he truly did. Suddenly, he realizes he wants her to look him in the face and say he is good enough.
Did he need to be the bigger person, perhaps? But, wait, isn't he a bigger person by default because he's the winner, he wondered. The winner is always the bigger person if he doesn't rub loser's face in the dirt, right?
In the end, he couldn't even enjoy the victory he had been craving for so long.
"She had something urgent come up," Shoko says later in the restaurant, making a tsk-ing sound while Gojo listens to her with a frown on his face. "Something about her family."
Something about her family? What could be as important as the announcement of valedictorian?
"Are you dumb?" With a sigh, Suguru cocks his head to the side. "Plenty of things are more important than this valedictorian crap."
Maybe to somebody else, but not to her, Satoru thinks. Beating him has always been the only thing on her mind, and nothing could have changed that.
__________
He will be mulling over it for a long, long time once he realizes she did not follow him to Harvard despite her scholarship.
Part II
Tags: @minshookie29
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ad0rechuu · 1 year
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۪ ★ ۫ MILKY WAY ୨୧
based on milky way by seohyun
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SYNOPSIS. ━━━━━ It’s not everyday that your friends childhood friend turns out to be the girl that you literally have a fan account for, but for Seonghwa, San and Mingi it’s become a reality. being able to get close to your bias is great! even if she does have a raging crush on someone else…
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6mar23 | st. 09/03/23 / fn. 31/08/23
pairing. ━━━━━ college students! fans! park seonghwa, choi san, song mingi x fem! idol! reader (x idol! oc)
featuring. ━━━━━ ateez, kang seulgi (red velvet), fatou samba (black swan), park sujin aka swan (purple kiss), shin yuna (itzy), do hanse (former victon) oc, fem oc
genre. ━━━━━ smau, written, humor/crack, fluff, angst, suggestive, love square, idol/college au, strangers to friends to lovers, really slow burn, pinning, secret identity
warnings. ━━━━━ i’m not a native english speaker so my english might be a little off sometimes ! ! ! timestamps/sm numbers mean nothing, sexism/slutshaming, swearing, mentions of food/sex/serious topic, kys/kms and other questionable jokes, use of pictures for yn but only for reference (only of dark skin poc used), cyber bullying, ssngs, mental illness/anxiety, mentions of alcohol/drugs. small age gaps, more thorough warnings in the actual chapters, let me know if missed smth
notes. ━━━━━ the taglist is closed, spam likes are fine but consider reblogging with comments of ur thoughts (not only on my work but on other authors work too!) credits to the rightful owners of all the graphics n music
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PROFILES. ━━━━━ SANRIO TRASH (STAR) ᜊ THE VIRGINITY CORNER (ATEEZ + YNS BBGS) ᜊ EXTRAS
PART 1. PRE TIME SKIP :
★ CH 000. prologue: HONGJOONG HAS FRIENDS?!
★ CH 001. CLONE FANTASY
★ CH 002. THE JASPER TO MY SHERLOCK
★ CH 003. SUS, VERY SUS
★ CH 004. DON’T LEAVE ME TALL FUCK
★ CH 005. EDIBLE SCENTED CANDLE
★ CH 006. MY LITTLE MEOW MEOW
★ CH 007. ONE OF THE GIRLIES
★ CH 008. SHES SO PRECIOUS!!
★ CH 009. IS YN OKAY?
★ CH 010. NO FANBOYING
★ CH 011. INTRODUCTIONS: PART I
★ CH 012. INTRODUCTIONS: PART II
★ CH 013. SUPER COOL AND HOT (RESPECTFULLY)
★ CH 014. AESPA WAS RIGHT
★ CH 015. GODDAMNIT PARK SEONGHWA
★ CH 016. WHAT THE H*CK
★ CH 017. I’M SO HASTAG SRS
★ CH 018. OPERATION: YNGYU
★ CH 019. HE’S UP TO NO GOOD
★ CH 020. PRAISE KINK ERA
★ CH 021. BAES JUST LIKE ME FR
★ CH 022. NVM Y’ALL HE RESPONDED
★ CH 023. TWO HEART EMOJIS
★ CH 024. RPS LEGEND
★ CH 025. KANG POMPOMPURIN
★ CH 026. BEGINNING OF A CHEESY ROMCOM
★ CH 027. WTFDYM
★ CH 028. IMAGINE NOT TALKING
★ CH 029. BLACK LIST SPEED RUN
★ CH 030. AS LONG AS SHE’S HAPPY
( EXTRA. ASK THEM ANYTHING EVENT:: PART i )
PART 2. POST TIME SKIP :
★ CH 031. BOMBASTIC SIDE EYE
★ CH 032. AS HOT AS I EXPECTED
★ CH 033. MY BABIES (AND KIM HONGJOONG)
★ CH 034. EVEN THE YANDERES
★ CH 035. DONGSAENG ZONED
★ CH 036. A STRANGE FEELING
★ CH 037. OLD FRIENDS
★ CH 038. I DON’T THINK I’M OKAY
★ CH 039. MINGI UR A PATHOLOGICAL LIAR
★ CH 040. LOVELY
★ CH 041. STEP BY STEP
★ CH 042. DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT
★ CH 043. OOPS
★ CH 044. WHATDIDIDOTOMYSELF
★ CH 045. LOVE LETTERS TO LEE HYORI
★ CH 046. LOSER DOESN’T EVEN DESCRIBE IT
★ CH 047. IF ONLY SHE KNEW
★ CH 048. LE’ ASTRE
( EXTRA. STAR’S 5TH MINI ALBUM :: LE’ ASTRE )
★ CH 049. FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT’S UNHOLY
★ CH 050. I’M ALRIGHT, I PROMISE
★ CH 051. BUTTERFLIES
★ CH 052. #STAR IS KILLING ME
★ CH 053. OK? OK! OK
★ CH 054. PURSUE HAPPINESS
★ CH 055. WHY DID YOU NEVER TELL ME
★ CH 056. THE TRUTH
★ CH 057. SERA WATANABE
★ CH 058. XD
★ CH 059. MILKY WAY
★ CH 060. LOVE
( EXTRA. ASK THEM ANYTHING EVENT:: PART ii )
ENDING O1.
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★ 00i. PERUVIAN LILIES
★ 0ii. THE PRETTIEST
ENDING O2.
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★ 00i. WHAT MAKES HIM, HIM
★ 0ii. LOM(OMMY)L
ENDING O3.
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★ 00i. FINAL PUZZLE PIECE
★ 0ii. MINE.
★ AFTER WORD.
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milky way © ad0rechuu, 2023. do not copy/repost.
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hyunjinspark · 8 months
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star lost with you | hyunjin au | part 17
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pairing: idol! hyunjin x artist! reader
genre: friends to lovers, so much angst, smut, fluff, set in the idolverse, mutual pining, unrequited love, forbidden romance, slowburn (!!!) soulmate au, star-crossed lovers
synopsis: working in a quaint little art store, you’ve had the honor of meeting all kinds of people, but you’ve never met somebody like him. there were many reasons hyunjin returned to his hometown; a getaway from the ephemeral and fast-paced life of the city, so he could fall in love with life again. he thought he was prepared for everything, to study art in the way that he’s always wanted to, but what he didn’t anticipate was meeting you. hwang hyunjin realises that sometimes, the best things in life happen unplanned. 
word count: 31K
warnings: cursing, drinking, heavy angst, mutual pining, sexual tension, kissing, mature language, making out, jealousy, references to injuries, unrequited love, fighting, arguments and confrontations, hyunjin is mean, mentions of weed, post-breakup behaviour, passing mention of threats, a guy makes yn feel physically uncomfortable
a/n: most of this chapter contains heavy angst, yn is thinking about hyunjin 90% of the time, and it's a very different pacing from usual, but i enjoyed writing this a lot :) i hope you love it too! please get comfortable with snacks and a blanket to read. you can listen to my star lost playlist here!
important: all works are fiction, and do not in any way represent the real personalities or real people, they exist only as faceclaims, and are fictional characters.
masterlist
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The romantic movies you’d watched growing up always skipped over the hard parts. 
The break-ups in them were just a short montage set to the soundtrack of a sad song. The main female character would have given up all hope, drowning her feelings in ice-cream and wine, and just when she hit rock bottom... somehow the boy would find a way back to her. The audience would cheer even though it was so predictable, and the credits would roll. All the sadness would be overshadowed by a firework-worthy reunion kiss, and a stupid Happily Ever After. 
If only your life right now could pass by like a montage. If only you could hit fast-forward, and skip to the day you feel better. 
You were never much into Greek mythology, but you had read Percy Jackson in middle school, and the myth of Sisyphus always stuck to you. He was condemned to roll a rock up a mountain for eternity, but the rock would roll back down to the bottom every single time. It was a cruel punishment because he could never achieve his goal. 
Forgetting Hyunjin was a Sisyphean task. It was futile, in every way. On most days, it almost felt impossible. You could always try, and push yourself really hard, but he would always be there at the bottom of the canyon. Homereminded you of him, of all the good times there — bumping into him at Aera’s, plunging into freezing water with him at the creek, kissing him in the meadow of the fireflies, sloppy and wet but enchanting. And so did this city. The lights of the skyscrapers, the culture, the fashion, they all screamed his name. It didn’t help that his pictures were plastered all over every big billboard, every bus stop shelter, each subway station. Perhaps to forget him, you’d have to run away to a remote cabin, somewhere in Europe, where you could paint your life away and never look back. Yet wouldn’t that be useless too? Everything beautiful in your life would be forever linked to him.
“What are you thinking of so deeply, Y/N?” A voice pulled you out of your sad tangent. You’d been sketching in your notebook, mindlessly doodling, drawing circles and squares. 
Jeonghan was slumped in the chair opposite yours, his own sketchbook balanced on his knees, but he hadn’t drawn for an hour now. He was too busy listening to a podcast on those big headphones he never let go of. Minnie was supposed to join you today, but she was running late from a date with Jamie, so for now it was just you and him. There was so much noise around you, a constant buzz and chatter of people in the coffee shop, so you raised your voice to be heard, “I’m thinking of…how romance movies are all bullshit”
His eyebrows shot up, and he sat up straighter, clearly not expecting that. You suppose it was a bit random, “I’m sorry?”
Now that you’d brought it up, you had to explain it, and you struggled to find the words, “They’re all such cookie-cutter depictions of romance. The same formula every time. You don’t think so?”
His eyes narrowed, suspiciously, “Well, who broke your heart?”
You shut your sketchbook with a snap, “Nobody. I’m just talking”
“Clearly you think I’m stupider than I actually am” He pulled a hand up, and started counting on his fingers, “You’re not eating, you’re not sleeping, you’re only painting of blue and depressing things, you…didn’t even laugh at a single joke of mine in class today”
“Maybe because they aren’t funny”
“And you now think romantic movies suck. That’s the telltale signs of a breakup”
“I’ve always thought they suck… That doesn’t mean anything”
“Okay” He laughed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, “How about the fact that you all but ran out of Pegasus and went white as a ghost when you saw that guy in the elevator?”
You stilled, staring at him. It’s been days since that incident, but he’s never brought it up till now. You had never given him a chance to. You realised you’re an expert in deflecting when it comes to matters of Hyunijn. You pulled at the spiral binding of your notebook, “He was just an old friend”
“You reacted way more than someone would…to an old friend. I’m not going to judge you, you know that? I’m from fucking LA. If I started judging people, I’m afraid I’d never stop”
You sighed, looking down at the coffee table, “He’s just someone I wasn’t expecting to see. It brought up old memories, shit I’d like to forget now. Let’s…talk about something else, please”
He released a breath, looking around, “Fine. I think I’m gonna get another cup of coffee. You want one?”
“No, I’m good. Coffee keeps me up at night”
Jeonghan stood up, lanky frame hovering over you, lips pressed into a thin line, “Don’t blame coffee for that”
With that, he walked off to the counter, and you stared at the empty chair. You’re trying hard not to think of that evening, after you walked out of the storage closet, out of the Pegasus building and straight home. You had felt a new kind of pathetic… and to make it worse, your apartment keys had refused to cooperate. It’s because you were shaking the whole way home. You’d dropped them on the landing multiple times as you made your way upstairs, the shrill sound the only thing snapping you out of your daze. Even your hands had shook as you tried to get into your apartment.
You’d crawled into your mattress, and you’d cried yourself to sleep. Your pillow had muffled the sounds and it wasn’t even satisfyin. Your tears felt empty and forced. The numbness…was real. What were you even crying for? Hyunjin had made it crystal clear since day one that nothing could happen between you, so you shouldn’t have expected him to suddenly change his mind. 
“I got you a cupcake” Jeonghan sat back down, a red velvet cupcake in his hand, a Cafe Mocha in the other.
It just hurt that he’d given up on the two of you, before you even had a chance to try. It was…a horrible memory, and your chest hurt at it. “I don’t want it, sorry”
“Suit yourself” He shrugged, peeling back the paper wrapping so he could take a bite out of it. The white frosting smeared on his nose, and he smiled at you. He’s a good friend, but you’ve been nothing but miserable the past few weeks. It’s bad for you because this is not the time for drama. You’re working on real stuff now in art class. You’re past introductions, and over the bunny hill. You have an actual assignment, and that’s the reason you’re here in this cafe, trying to brainstorm ideas for it. This artwork matters more to you than anything else lately, because it feels like a last plea for happiness. If your professor actually likes it, then you won’t feel so useless anymore. Time lately feels like it’s slipping through your fingers, wasting away, precious days blurring together into sadness and nostalgia. You used to count the seconds until you could live this life, but what you’re feeling right now…that’s not living.
How can you be creative right now, when all you hold inside you is bitterness? All this time, you’d held on to some minuscule hope, that one day things between you and Hyunjin would be all right. That maybe one day he would give into what he felt, and you could actually be together. It was almost …like a given. How could he kiss you like that…and not want it for the rest of his life? A part of you had imagined it all — the future you could have had with him, the relationship you could lead with somebody who knew every bit of you.
You’d been surrounded by good people your whole life, but the impact Hyunjin left on you was incomparable. His thoughts, the way his brain worked things out, the kindness with which he approached life — you couldn’t hope to find that in anybody now. It was special to only him, and more than anything, you couldn’t forget that. You couldn’t forget the beautiful things he kept hidden in his mind, in his heart. The first few weeks you’d known him…it became obvious what he would mean to you. In the silliest of ways, he even finished your sentences…How could somebody be so perfectly built for you, but not be meant for you at all? 
Maybe the romance books were to blame for making you believe there was someone perfect for you at all. Soulmates were an urban legend, and a red string of fate didn’t exist. But then why did everything pull you together all this while? It couldn’t have been…for nothing.
Were you the one to blame for imagining an actual future with him? You’d never even had the honor of calling him your boyfriend, how could you hope for anything more?
The logical step was…to move on. So that’s why you’re here, painting in the new coffee shop, and hoping it will help. Jeonghan helps, kind of. He’s funny, and he’s got a large personality and an even bigger sense of humour, and you wonder how he fits it all in his lanky frame. He’s a perfect student and on top of that, he’s helpful. He’s always sharing his supplies with you in class, and he’s genuinely so amusing, if not mildly annoying sometimes, but with Minho and Felix you’d gotten used to it. He was humming now to a song you don’t recognise, his music taste is very different from yours, and he suddenly asked, “Why do you think I moved back to Korea?”
Your brows furrowed, and you randomly guessed, “I don’t know…An American girl broke your heart?”
“Bingo” He bit into the cupcake, crumbs falling onto his button-up, and on his ripped jeans, “She kissed my friend at a party. Right in front of me”
You’re surprised to hear that, and even more so that he’s openly telling you. Maybe talking freely about the past is moving on. So you told him, in solidarity, “My best friend dated the boy I like”
His eyebrows shot up, and he leaned forward, pausing the music on his phone to give you his whole attention, “Did she know you liked him?”
“No…not really”
“Then you can’t really blame her I guess” 
“I don’t”
“So you blame yourself? For liking him?”
“Nothing I do could have made me stop”
He tilt his head, “Is that so?”
You chewed on your lip, “I liked him for a long time before my friend met him”
“Then why didn’t you ask him out?”
“I didn’t know his name at the…time”
His eyes widened, a smile forming, “Oh…now I’m really, really curious”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s in the past now”
Jeonghan sighed, “You know, this is a record”
You reached for his cupcake, and bit into it, it was too sweet and you hated red velvet but you wanted to feel something, “What do you mean?”
“That’s like the most I’ve got out of you, Y/N. You’re a pretty closed book”
You’ve never been told that before. You're usually always oversharing. You have to try to be better. Maybe divulging the details of your life isn’t such a weakness or vulnerability. It’s hard to explain to anybody about what you’re going through, the only person who’ll understand is Kairi, but you haven’t talked to her since that time in the park, when she brought Hyunjin up and you came crumbling down like a house of cards.
You feel so weak lately, like a balloon about to be popped, stretched to your limits. You can’t accommodate any sadness in you anymore, and any mere mention or thought of Hyunjin breaks you down. You’re trying your best though. Yeonjun is sad you don’t hang out at his place anymore, after all it’s not his fault there’s a billboard of Hyunjin right across. Falling apart felt it’d be more climatic and sudden, but it’s more of a gradual process than anything. Even now, sitting in this pretty shop in Seoul, your chest pains at the memories. The hurt is so immense sometimes you have to clutch your chest waiting for the pain to pass. It’s like a heart attack every time you think of him. You can’t remember how it used to feel when it didn’t hurt. 
In the past few weeks, you’d have had a lot of selfish thoughts and wishes. Some of them are cruel in a way that you can never say it out loud. You feel guilty for even thinking them, yet most days when you’re alone in your bed and you crave him, you wish he never became an idol. Hyunjin without the fame and without his music was still the same boy inside. Hyunjin without the frills was the kid in the art store you fell in love with all those years ago. 
You wish he could just be yours, to love forever, not the entire citys’. Forever was a long fucking time but you felt capable of it, of cherishing him for the rest of your life because he made it so easy. But you should have taken the hint when he cut you out of his life, without even leaving a phone number behind. If you hadn’t come to Seoul… it was entirely possible he would never have seen you again. He would have left you behind in the town, and never looked back. To him…you were just a girl he messed around with in the summer. So temporary. So forgettable.
You wish you could pick apart your brain, and take out every memory of him, but you feared there’d be nothing in you left then. Loving him took up all the space in you. Missing him did the same. Jeonghan was speaking to you still, wondering why you never shared too much about yourself, and you shrugged, “I don’t know. I just want to focus on now. I hate feeling haunted by the past. It’s paralysing, to be stuck in those memories”
Jeonghan’s eyes narrowed, this is a pretty serious conversation for this cafe, but he asked, “You ever see Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind? The movie with Kate Winslet and that one dude…um, Jim Carrey?”
You’ve stopped sketching entirely now, you hadn’t made progress in hours. It goes without saying that ever since you saw Hyunjin in the city, your inspiration has been lost. You’ve been searching for it ever since, in new friendships, in new coffee shops, in conversations like this, “I…haven’t, but Felix, my best friend loved that movie”
He leaned forward, excited to explain to you, “Well, in the movie this couple’s broken up, and they hate each other, like absolutely loathe each other. So there’s this futuristic procedure where they can choose to erase memories of their lover, and the girl…she does it. It’s too painful to remember the boy she loved”
“Oh?”
“Mmh” Jeonghan’s eyes twinkle as he explained and you wonder if he and Felix would be best friends if they met; they talk about movies with the same passion, “So the guy, he starts going through the procedure too. But as the memories of their relationship start being deleted, he realises he doesn’t want them to be erased after all. They loved each other, and their time together was so special to them. That shouldn’t be forgotten. It’s a cool concept, right?”
You’re listening to him, and the noises of the cafe have faded away, “Yeah. It’s cool” You’re playing the movie in your head, wondering what you would do if you were in it. Would you alter the chemistry of your brain so Hyunjin never existed in your life? It’d sure be easier than trying to move on, which was…useless.
Jeonghan suddenly frowned realising you ate some of his cupcake. The proof was in your hands which were covered in white frosting. He leaned over the little table, “I thought you didn’t want the cupcake” 
You apologised, “Sorry. The frosting was good”
“Is that so?” He grabbed your hand. He’s touchy sometimes in class, so you weren’t too surprised. But in a single swoop, he licked the frosting right off your hand, tongue swirling around your finger for a brief second, “Eh, could be better. Anyway, do you want to watch that movie with me? You could come over after you finish the artwork”
Before you could even process what just happened, a tote bag slammed onto your table, and you both jumped. Minnie grinned at you, standing by, “So did you guys finish the assignment?”
»»————-
You are supposed to paint your most dominant emotion. It’s an important task, because you’ve to be graded on it. It’s due today. The thought of being evaluated for your creativity terrifies you. You don’t feel good for anything right now, but this is what you signed up for. Your supplies are sprawled across the apartment floor, and you’re forcing each stroke onto the paper, trying to paint a semblance of anything. You want to prove your worth in the art studio. You haven’t been too interactive in class, you’ve been at your lowest, but this meant so much to you for the longest time. So you’re trying really, really hard.
There is music playing from your phone, a mix of calm songs you’d put together months ago. Hours had passed, and you’ve fiddled away at your canvas, trying to fix every little detail. You stayed up nights in a row, finishing the painting and it was honestly a good distraction, for the most part. If Kim Jieong loves it, then perhaps you’ll stop being so sad. You will yourself to just fill in the gaps of your artwork, to correct the error in your ways so that it can be perfect for the presentation today.
But it was almost time for class, and if you didn’t leave now, you’ll be late. You stare at the painting, breathing a sigh, it doesn’t look half bad, “Well…this is as good as it’s gonna get”
As you roll the canvas up so you can carry it to class, the song on your playlist changes and within seconds… Hyunjin’s voice fills your bedroom. It was a song from the new album. 
You freeze, recognising it instantly, goosebumps rippling up your arms and legs. It’s a ballad, and his voice is soft and melodious. Once upon a time it was comforting. Dread fills your stomach. You hate this song. You hate his voice. You can’t listen to him ever again. Your phone lay across the bedroom floor. You need to turn it off. In your hurry to scramble for it, your hand slips, and your elbow knocks into a glass of muddy paint-water. Before you could even process it, the liquid tips over. Within seconds, helplessly you watch the wave of liquid destroy your art. It seeps across your entire canvas, ruining everything you’d worked on for weeks.
It becomes a glob of colors and it’s so funny and pathetic you couldn’t even cry or be frustrated. It’s your carelessness to blame. The only thing you can do is turn the fucking music off.
You feel stupid, showing up to class with that. When you arrive, Minnie was presenting her piece already. It’s gorgeous, and her painting is about love. It’s obvious in the way she’s drawn a portrait of what’s supposed to be her girlfriend, Jamie. There’s strokes of red for her hair, and pink and warm tones all over. Jamie is drawn so beautifully, accentuated features, so much personality in a single portrait. Does she know how beautiful she is in her girlfriend’s eyes?
Jeonghan goes next, and he’s painted triumph. It’s more abstract than a lover’s portrait. It’s smart, and it’s confident, and it’s full of gold accents. You feel ashamed thinking of your own work. You slide the rolled-up canvas behind your desk, and hope nobody notices it. Like a zombie, you’re applauding for everyone’s work, and your hands clap every few minutes, but you’re not even looking at anything anymore. Analysis and appreciation is out of the question. Your own failure is far too distracting. 
Then, Kim Jieong glanced at you for the first time this morning, expectant eyes, anticipating smile, “Come on up, sweetheart”
The rest of the class had apparently finished, and you’re the only one left. It’s easy to lie through your teeth, “I’m sorry, Mr. Jieong…I forgot”
His eyebrows shoot up, and confusion is evident in his gaze, “Forgot what?”
You can feel your friends eyes on you, “I forgot about the assignment” It’s better that he think you’re careless rather than not talented. Jeonghan’s gaze on you was deathly, because he knows you’ve worked on nothing else the past few days. This was the only thing you’d been sleeping and breathing. This was your turning point. Your hope for happiness.
Your professor nods, “I see…”
“I’m sorry” Your voice was small and pathetic but you don’t even feel any remorse. Sadness is so present in you that there’s no room for guilt. You stare at your table, not wanting to look anybody in the eye, especially as he speaks, “These assignments are for a reason, and I hope everybody knows that. We don’t wake up and come all the way here to waste each others time, do we?”
You curl up in your chair, pulling your jacket tight around yourself, and your eyes sting. You could feel his stare of judgement at you as he addressed the class, when you’re the only one at fault. Everybody else did the work. Minnie’s gaze was burning into you too, but you didn’t look up for the rest of class. It’s childish. You just feel embarrassed. You count down the minutes until it’s over. You’re going to go home and redo everything, and hopefully he will forgive you for your lack of tact.
As soon as it’s time, you grabbed your bag, rushing to leave, but his voice echoed through the class, “Y/N. Please stay back. I need to talk to you” 
The dreadful words make you stop in your tracks, but you were already at the door planning your escape. Minnie pinched you in the stomach as she left, “Good luck, babe”
You turned around, clutching your bag to your chest as everybody around you exits, and you know you’re being judged right now. This is a class for professionals. Heartbreak is not an excuse. You take a look at him, “Is everything okay?”
The professor crosses his legs on the stool, seemingly relaxed, and he didn’t look mad, “Just need to discuss something with you. I’ve been thinking about it for a while”
“Okay…” You breathe, running the possibilities in your head. Is he just upset, or is it possible to actually get kicked out of this program because of your fucking carelessness?
Jeonghan stops in front of you, “Should I go ahead, or do you want me to wait for you?”
Your professor was quick to interrupt, “Nate, I appreciate you sticking up for your friend, but I’d like to speak to her alone”
Your heart warmed at the thought that he was going to stay back for you, “It’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow” You told him, even though you crave his comfort. Soon, the rest of the students trickle out of the classroom, dillydallying and slow to move with no care in the world. You stand by there, waiting patiently as Jieong wraps up his work, packing up his bag and things. As soon as everyone’s gone, you apologise, “I’m so sorry about forgetting the assignment. It was really irresponsible of me, and I can explain”
“Except you didn’t forget” He looked up at you.
“Sorry?”
“The canvas behind your desk. You didn’t really do a great job of hiding it”
“That’s… not my assignment” You protest, “That’s…nothing. It’s a mess”
He got up, “Then you won’t mind if I take a look at it?”
“I promise you, it’s nothing. It’s not worth…” You trailed off, watching as he makes his way there. He unfurls it, and he’s quiet for a few minutes as he stares at your botched painting. The artwork makes no sense. The canvas is completely ruined, and a kid could have done it better. He turns to you, disappointed. “Can you remind me why you’re here, Y/N?”
Your heart breaks even more, “I promise…I’m gonna do better next time”
He steps closer to you, “That’s not what I asked you, Y/N. Why are you in my program? That’s what I want to know”
You’re suddenly finding it hard to breathe, and your mind is blank. There’s no fucking space for your thoughts or for logic or reason, when it’s just been corrupted by memories he left behind, “I’m here… because I’ve always wanted to be”
“Do you think that’s good enough?”
This behavior of his isn’t even out of nowhere. You’ve been a horrible student of lately, you haven’t paid attention, your enthusiasm has been curbed, and your paintings have been tacky and upsetting. You swallowed the lump in your throat, “I’m really trying to be better. I’m…sorry for disappointing--”
“I’m only disappointed because you lied to me”
Your eyes shoot up to his, and his gaze burns you, “What?”
He crossed his arms, stepping close to you until there’s no personal space anymore. There’s no venom in his tone but you know he’s masquerading it because unlike you, he’s a professional who knows how to deal with people like you, “You can’t just choose what you want to do on a whim. That’s not up to you. That’s not what my program is for. This canvas is your assignment. Why are you pretending otherwise? Why didn’t you present it to the class?”
“Because I fucked up”
He didn’t flinch at your usage of the swear word, and he ran a hand over his face, “What emotion were you trying to convey?”
“Peace…”
“And is that how you feel? Peaceful?”
“No…” You sighed, “I feel horrible…” There was a lump in your throat blocking your airways. The pain in your chest was returning. You’re angry at Hyunjin for doing this to you.
“Can you please tell me what’s going on? You didn’t even meet the mentor I took you to see all the way to Pegasus for. Those field trips aren’t optional. I didn’t take you for some city tour. I wanted you to meet Karina. Those opportunities are important. If you miss those… you might as well not be here. This program is for people who value that, we have no room for freeloaders”
Your eyes shoot up to his, panic rising, and your eyes sting with tears, “Professor Jieong—”
“Can you sit down for a minute?” He stepped forward, hand going to your lower back, leading you to your seat. You feel awkward at the touch; the greenhouse studio is empty right now, it’s just you and him here. Would you have to beg him to let you stay in this program? Just like you begged Hyunjin to stay with you? He stands across you when you sit, crossing his arms, a pensive look in his eyes, “I receive…more than ten thousand applications for this program every year. There’s only twenty spaces in this classroom though. I couldn’t possibly look through all the applications myself. You’re aware of that, yes?”
It's hard for you to focus on his words when you only want to cry. In all this fucking sadness, you may just be losing the most important opportunity you ever got, “Yes…”
“I have a team that does it for me. They’re all trusted, close associates. All artists of course, and with all their idiosyncrasies they have a unique way of viewing the world. They hardly ever mess up in finding talent, but earlier this year, one of them did”
“What do you mean?”
“Your file didn’t come in to me. You were sent a rejection, weren’t you?”
The reminder is a punch to your gut, even though it’s in the past and irrelevant now. 
“Did you never wonder how you got in…even after being rejected?” He asked, lips curling up, as if knows the secrets of the universe and is indulging you in all of them. He’s going to tell you it was a mistake after all. You weren’t meant for this. You’ve fucked up so bad.
You wipe the single tear on your cheek as you look up at him, “To be honest…I just decided to take the blessing, and not question further”
He smiled, eyes crinkling, “Of course you did. Well, I think you’d be interested to know how you ended up getting in” You’ve never questioned it until now, and you’re anticipating his next words, "On a hot summer morning, I was supposed to catch a train up north to visit my parents. It was my day off…I don’t get too many of those here” He laughed, “But obviously, I missed the train. Instead of taking the next one, I came back to my office. When I did, I saw your file. It was in the rejected pile, but I took a single look at it and I knew there’d been a mistake. I knew that you had to be in this program. Somebody must have overlooked it, and I’m thankful I saw yours”
Your eyes widened, “What do you mean?” 
“I chose you, Y/N. Everybody else in this class was picked by my peers, by the committee, but you…I picked you myself, so you of all people shouldn’t be falling behind. You have an innate talent and I respect that a lot. I don’t want to be disappointed by you in the future. I know it’s intimidating to join in the middle of a semester, but you…belong here. Don’t question that. Don’t let it fuck you up”
You were dizzy with his compliment, perhaps this validation is the only thing you needed. You didn’t deserve this kindness, “You have a lot of confidence in someone who fucked up their painting so bad, Mr. Jieong”
“If I didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here, Y/N” 
“Right…um, thank you” Your lips tugged into a smile, and your chest felt lighter for the first time in a long time. He picked you. 
“That’s the problem with your generation, you’re always doubting yourself so much” He chuckled again, “Imagine if I’d taken that train to see my parents. I’d never seen your application. It would have been such a shame to not have you here with me”
You nodded, standing up to leave, grabbing your things, “That’s a crazy coincidence… Why didn’t you take the train though?”
He shrugged, carrying your canvas for you, so he could walk you out, “They’d closed down the entire platform for a few hours, so couldn’t even if I wanted to”
You frowned, switching off all the lights and glanced at him as the room was plunged in darkness, “Huh. I didn’t know they do that…”
“I didn’t either, but apparently some famous guy was returning to Seoul that day. I’m guessing a lot of fans wanted to see him, there was too big of a crowd. So they ended up shutting down the whole platform. Made me miss my damn train”
“A… music artist?” 
“Yeah! You might have seen it on the news. He’s one of Pegasus’ artists actually. I think he’s also a painter, like you. 
The pain in your chest returned with a bang, “Oh…”
He laughed, “This city and its obsession with celebrities. But I guess if it wasn’t for that… you wouldn’t be here”
“Yeah…”
His hand landed on your shoulder, trying to comfort you but nothing could, “I guess that’s why they say coincidence is just another word for fate, huh?”
»»————-
Unread messages flooded your inbox. Some from Yeonjun, most from Felix… You haven’t ignored them on purpose. You just haven’t had time or the energy to get back to them. They all read the same anyway. Asking about your life in the city, and how it feels to live your dreams. A part of you thought it’s the universe being decidedly cruel to you — reminding you the irony of how you’ve never been this miserable in your life.
And then there was one from Kairi. 
hey! i hope you’ve been doing good. i went to this cute new cafe in gangnam and i thought of you.  i feel like we ended things on the wrong note. could we maybe have a redo of last time? if that’s okay with you
You don’t reply, because you have no idea what you’ll even talk about to her. It’s creepy to pursue friendship with Chan’s ex. You’re supposed to be moving on, not just from him, but from his entire world. 
Your phone buzzes again and it’s a text from Minnie on your group chat. It’s just you, her and Jeonghan in it. You don’t talk too much here, just make plans for class and coffee. So you were surprised at what she had sent you. Maybe she feels pitiful after the way you embarrassed yourself in class earlier.
minnie: so you’re not gonna believe this yn.
yeah? 
minnie: i have a friend of a friend, and he saw a picture of you on my instagram. he thinks you’re really fucking hot.
who?
minnie: just some guy. anyway, do you want me to set you up with him?
noo. please don’t 
minnie: wait you didn’t let me finish. he works in the city, and i haven’t met him yet but my friend said he’s smart and funny. he seems like the kind of guy you’d like?
you’re trying to set me up with someone you’ve never met yourself?
minnie: omg its called a blind date girl
no dates. please.
minnie: all right :( anyway jamie and me are getting drunk tonight. do you wanna come?
You were trying really hard, to make casual conversation more often, to just be a normal fucking human who isn’t heartbroken and defined by your love for someone, so you said yes. You bought a bottle of wine from the store so you could bring it for them, as a gift for inviting you over. 
Minnie’s place was…nice. It’s in the higher end of the city, and she definitely comes from money. You were gathered around her dining table, and you’re sitting with your knees up on her chair. Jamie was lying on the couch across you, and she’s very tipsy already. A glass of wine was balanced on her stomach, and they’re telling you the story of how they met — through mutual friends on a night out in the city, apparently it was love at first sight, and Jamie had asked Minnie out only days after they first met. You didn’t opt for alcohol tonight, instead, you were digging into a large tub of chocolate ice-cream. 
Minnie was sitting cross-legged on the table, in her pajamas, “And then, guess what restaurant she picked for our first date? This…candle-lit fucking expensive place! I was so impressed, and kind of embarrassed I wouldn’t match the vibe—”
“But you looked fucking hot” Jamie interrupted, “We flirted the entire night, and then…we fucked on the very first date. At her place”
“Whoa…” You smiled at their story, tasting another spoonful of ice cream, “And…when did you start dating? Was it soon after that?”
“It’s embarrassing. She asked me to be her girlfriend…the same night” Minnie giggled, covering her face in her hands. She was definitely very tipsy, and you’d only seen her this cheerful around Jamie. In class, she was much more composed and serious, and it’s nice to see the side of her around her lover. She’s so much more open, and happier here.
“Oh” You realised, “And you’ve been together…three years now?”
Minnie grinned, shrugging, “I’d already fallen in love on the first date, no matter how stupid that sounds” 
You smiled at that, and then buried yourself into the ice-cream cup again, licking flecks off the steel spoon. Minnie nudged you, snapping you out of it, “Are you ever gonna tell us what happened with your ex or are we supposed to guess?”
“Minnie…” You rest your head against the wall, “It’s really not as interesting as your story”
“Y/N….” She whined loudly, and she had made her way through the second bottle of wine, the one you’d brought, “You don’t trust us? I promise we’re not gonna judge. Please, please, please”
“It’s not about that” You sighed, but her excitement to know your past was endearing, “I just find it depressing to talk about”
“Well. That’s what we’re here for. How can you move on if you avoid it forever?” Jamie sat up, blanket wrapped around her, and Minnie even shifted closer to you. This felt nice…to have friends here, in a city you couldn’t call home yet.
She was right. The past shouldn’t be your vulnerability. You sighed, staring inside your empty cup, “Well, then I’m gonna need a hell of a lot more ice cream”
“Um, so this is about the guy you mentioned right? The one you had lost touch with?”
You knew you’d be asked this story one day. You had to tell this without naming names. You couldn’t compromise Hyunjin like that. To them, it would just be a guy from your town, not an idol, not someone famous. You curled up your legs, ripping open the plastic of the brand new strawberry ice-cream tub, “I don’t know where to start honestly. It’s kind of a long story, but…um, I had this crazy crush on a boy in my town. He was really cute. He was kind, and funny, and…really really fucking hot” 
Minnie and Jamie laughed at that, eager ears as you continued, “I didn’t think anything would happen between us, because I thought he was into my best friend. Turns out he wasn’t. Me and him ended up kissing one night, it was romantic as hell. I kind of felt like…the main character in those coming-of-age 90s films. Because he was…so old-fashioned in a way? But also, really modern. He’s so romantic” You paused to breathe and all those memories are flooding back, “I was in this…pretty satin dress, and he was in a suit, with like a cropped jacket, and really cool pants. They fit him so well” 
Minnie lived in a high-rise building, and from here, the city lights blinked in the distance, golden specks lighting up the horizon. The memory flooded through you, clear as day. Two people under the night sky, surrounded by mountains on all sides. He had shown you the stars and the sky. You remember telling him that stars would remind you of him now. He had held you in his arms, and imprinted his words into your soul, “And when I look at the city lights…I’ll think of you”
Was he thinking of you now?
The city lights were brighter than ever. 
“Holy shit. Where did he take you on a date to? The Met Gala?” Jamie laughed, “I didn’t know guys our age even wear suits other than to funerals”
“No, it wasn’t a date date. It was just a fancy event in the town” Maybe you had terrible storytelling skills, because nothing made sense and it was all jumbled up, but they were listening intently so you continued anyway. No words could convey your first kiss with him. No sentences could capture your emotions, the lust, the love. 
“But after that kiss, he regret it immediately. He wasn’t really looking for a relationship. Despite that we kept kissing, over and over…and we didn’t stop. It became a thing, I don’t really know what we were doing” You smiled softly, staring at the skyscraper lights from their window, a kaleidoscope of inappropriate memories projected on the glass. You lost your words, blaming your imagination for the way a film reel of those moments was cast onto the windows. Maybe you really were going crazy, staring at the glass, and seeing him touching you in the reflection. Heat rushed to your face, like your dirtiest thoughts were out on display, but Jamie and Minnie were quiet, and this was all in your head anyway. You took a larger serving of the ice-cream this time, the creamy texture melting on your tongue, “I guess that’s when I realised I was absolutely, insanely in love with him, but… then he had to leave”
“Leave for what? The military?” Minnie’s eyes were wide. Jamie shushed her, “Wait, let her talk babe. You can ask your questions later”
“No, not the military, just for his work, and then…” Then came the hard part of this story, “And then he blocked me. For a few months. I don’t know why” 
They frowned, but they didn’t interrupt you, “I saw him in a shop downtown, and he completely walked past me at first…he ignored me. But when we met later, he kissed me. Then he told me he could never see me again” It sounded crazy told all together like this. It didn’t sound like your life. It sounded like a story from some tacky relationship podcast Jeonghan would listen to, but it was the truth. Their eyes were wide as you finished, and you stared at them, feeling naked and vulnerable, “That’s the gist of it”
“He sounds like an asshole” Jamie mumbled, pouring herself another drink. Your gaze shot up to hers. “Is thatwhat I’d made him seem like? That wasn’t my intention. He’s not an asshole, he’s…really nice”
Minnie frowned, “Yeah. No nice guy would do that to someone he cares about”
They didn’t know he was an idol, and they couldn’t know, so it was frustrating that they’d never understand all of it. How could they have guessed that it was forbidden for Hyunjin to love you?
“Honestly that sounds really fucked up. If he actually gave a shit about you, he wouldn’t have ghosted you in the first place, and then he had the nerve to kiss you? God, men are such dicks. As soon he had enough of the sex, he dropped you?”
They didn’t know all the nice things he’d said to you, or the nice things he’d done for you. You shook your head, “No, guys… it wasn’t just about the physical—”
“Did he ever tell you he loved you?”
You swallowed, “No…”
“And he told you he doesn’t do relationships” Jamie scoffed, “That’s what my friend’s ex was like. He said the same thing, and next year he got fucking married to another girl. This boy you’re telling us about…he’s obviously not going to be single forever, especially if he’s as nice as you say he is. If he actually saw any future with you, Y/N, he would have told you”
Minnie sighed, and it seemed like this very specific conversation about you had escalated into a hatred of most men, “It sounds like a fucked up situationship, and babe… if you give him so much importance it’ll only hurt you. He used you, because you’re so fucking nice. Not that that’s your fault, but…he’s just like every guy I know. They like the thrill of the chase, and when they actually get the girl, they’re bored of her”
A fucked up situationship? Maybe that’s what it actually was. Hyunjin had clearly stated that what you and him had only existed in Daejon. Here you were, calling it destiny, stupidly. Your vision became blurry as tears shot up to your eyes, and it was pathetic because you weren’t even drunk, you were just sad and loaded on strawberry ice-cream, “He’s not like that” 
“Why are you defending him?”
You knew they were wrong. Obviously they were wrong, but is that what this seemed like to the outside world? That Hyunjin used you? Because you were easy…and nice? 
Minnie reached out to touch your shoulder, comfortingly squeezing it, “You can do so much better than him, Y/N. From everything you said… he just sounds manipulative as hell”
You put the empty ice cream cup away, “Yeah” You mumbled, “So…what am I supposed to do now?”
“Get yourself out there! Go on dates. Kiss every guy in Seoul if you want to, if that makes you happy. You’re… fucking amazing. Are you seriously going to wait around for a guy who isn’t even trying for you?”
You’ve never been a casual person, but maybe that is what you need now. You’re done with world-shattering true loves. Even Hyunjin had casually been with girls before you, and the thought stung you that he might even be with girls after you. He only had an issue with relationships…and that’s why he’d pushed you away, because he couldn’t give you one. There’d be thousands of other girls who’d be willing to be with him - no label, no expectations, just sex. Yeah, you did need to get yourself out there. How bad could it be?
»»————-
The text said, Meet at eight.
It’s half past, and your date is not here.
You’d dressed yourself in a tight black dress, very revealing and you could hardly breathe. It was from a fancy store in your neighbourhood, and it was far too expensive, but it’d be worth it for tonight. You did your hair in a style Hana had taught you, and you haven’t dolled up like this in a long, long while. The last time you dressed yourself this much…was for the Paint and Wine event in the Château. Tonight is a first for you and you want to make a real good impression. 
Although, it’s been more than thirty minutes and your date hasn’t shown up. You were sitting at the bar, getting anxious and impatient. Looking around, the place was full, everybody seemed to be on a date, and nobody’s looking at you. Nobody was looking for you. You’re only a little mortified, and the best case scenario is…that he got the timing wrong, or that he got busy and decided this wasn’t worth his time. Minnie told you he’s working, so he obviously has a more hectic schedule than yours. The worst case? That he saw you and left.
“Can I get you anything?” The bartender asked, leaning over the wooden bar, “You’ve been here a while…”
“I’m waiting for somebody to show up. A date…” You explained, and understanding settled into his features. He headed back to the rest of his customers, and you wonder if he’s going to gossip about the poor stood-up girl at the bar. They must see this a lot everyday. This bar seems fancy, your blind date suggested you meet here so he seems like a man with good standards. There’s a dance floor and blaring Latin music, which brings in most of the crowd. You texted Minnie, um am i at the right bar?
shit he’s not there yet?
You decided to order a drink so tonight isn’t useless after all, and you browsed through the flimsy, paper menu. It’s got stains of ketchup on it, and it’s gross but it reminds you that you hadn’t ate in hours. You wanted to be able to fit into this dress and to leave enough room for dinner with him. Your eyes caught sight of the familiar names of drinks that Hyunjin had wanted to make you but didn’t have the ingredients for. You ended up choosing a Tequila Sunrise instead. You don’t really want to taste an Italian Dolce Vita and discover what you missed out on that last night in Daejon with him.
An hour has passed now. You were most definitely stood-up, but you’re stubborn so you would stay until the end of tonight, and if he ever did show up you’d forgive your date in a second. Your drink was empty, you’d chugged it to calm your nerves. Your napkin was soggy, and the other couples who sat at the bar have already made their way to second base: the dance floor where they’re grinding up against each other. You have resorted to playing with the condensation drops on your glass, observing the way the water falls onto the countertop.
A blind date was how this had all started, back in the bowling alley, so why were you getting yourself into it again? Maybe you should have more dignity, and walk away right now, but you were so desperate. If you leave tonight, you’d never work up the courage again to go on a date, and you need this more than anything. You feel so stupid, and maybe Hana’s actions that past summer actually make sense anyway. You would do anything to forget Hyunjin. You’d date …almost anybody to get over him. Even if it’s a guy who kept you waiting for an hour by yourself. 
“Hey. Um. Are you Y/N?” An unfamiliar voice asked. You turned around to see a boy in a maroon button-up. He’s finally here, and your heart calms a little because he’s actually cute. All Minnie had said about him was that he was smart and funny, so it’s a relief that he’s easy on the eyes too. He looked older than you, and he’s got kind eyes and curly hair. Although it’s a bit off-putting that he’s wearing a baseball cap indoors. It felt like you’re both dressed for different occasions, but you are not going to complain. No matter what happens tonight, you can’tcomplain. This isn’t the time to be picky. It’s the time to take whatever life throws at you, because clearly that’s the only way you’re going to find somebody genuinely interested in you.
“Hey, Kang-min, right?” You forced a smile at him, and suddenly you’re so nervous. This is the first real date you’ve ever been on in ages. 
The boy took the empty barstool next to you, and eyed your glass, “Sorry I was late, I had a friend emergency. I hope you’re not drunk already. That’d be mean”
You smiled, watching the way he sat so comfortably like this was routine for him, “It was just one drink. Don’t worry, I just came here too” Just a little white lie so he wouldn’t feel too guilty.
His eyes flickered over your dress, falling to your cleavage, “Did you buy that just for me?”
It was so forward that it caught you off guard. Your eyes widened, and you don’t want to give away how much tonight could possibly mean to you. So you said, “Um. Depends. Do you like it?”
He laughed, gaze on your bare legs and thighs, shamelessly checking you out, “Guess you’ll find out”
You don’t really know what to say so you smile at him, hoping he also likes the shade of red lipstick you’re wearing. He looks around the place, catching a feel for it, and then back at you. He looked at the bartender, snapping his fingers to catch his attention and ordered a drink for himself. A large beer. Tasteful. He looked at you and asked, “So…what’s your damage, pretty?”
“Sorry?”
His drink arrived pretty fast, and he lift the large glass to his lips. In a single go, he finished all of it, and you’re surprised at how fast he drank this. He had foam on his upper lip as he said, “You agreed to go on a blind date. Your last relationship must have been seriously fucked up”
You hoped you masqueraded your frown, “I just wanted to try something new”
“Right…makes sense” He tsked, “So my friend told me you’re an artist”
You smiled, relieved the conversation steered in a direction you were familiar with, “Yup. I study at a studio in the city. It’s an art program under this artist--”
He interrupted you, “I hear artists infamously make almost no money, but I mean you’re living in Seoul. You must be pretty well off” He pointed at you, almost accusatory, a grin on his face, “Let me guess, rich parents. Trust fund. Private school education”
You shook your head, a little offended and surprised that he made such an assumption in five minutes of knowing you, “No. I…I worked a couple of years and saved up for this”
He called the bartender again, to order a second beer and seemed surprised, “That takes some serious hustle. Why art then? You could’ve picked anything in the world”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…not to offend anyone, but there’s no money in art. What’s the point of it then?”
“Um…” You laughed, nervously. You realised that you’ve never been asked this question before. Most people in your life knew you since birth, and never questioned your passion for it, “It’s just what I like to do. It makes me really happy to paint beautiful things—”
“So you don’t paint about real shit?”
“Sorry?”
“I think my personal pet peeve is when people pretend the world is so great and lovely, even though everything’s so fucked up. Seems like you look at the world with rose-tinted glasses, if you only like to paint all the nice, pretty things, and not something that actually matters”
“I think art can be about everything, and that’s the beauty of it. It doesn’t always have to make a social statement, but it can always be interpreted as such. Some art is just about capturing the beauty of our world, and that’s okay too” You forced a smile, wanting to get the heat off you, “Um so you never told me… What do you do?”
He looked at you over the rim of his glass, “I’m a pharmacy tech. In short; I make important phone calls, and deal with horribly annoying people”
So that’s why Minnie said he was smart, “Oh…that must have taken a lot of studying”
“Yeah. Not everyone can do it, but somebody has to” He laughed, “I stepped up. I make good money though. So, um, aren’t you going to get another drink, Y/N or are you a lightweight?”
“I’m good” You smiled, although you were hungry as fuck because you’d been waiting for him so long, “Maybe we could order the food now?”
“Here?” He chuckled, “It’s really not worth it, I only come here for the beer. You didn’t get dinner before this?”
“I…I thought we’d eat together”
He laughed, pushing his curls out of his face, “No, I’d rather get drunk with you…and we can dance”
You looked to the dance floor which smelled of sweat and other things you don’t want to think of, “Maybe we could just talk more. I’ll just get another drink then”
He smiled, then looked at the bartender, “A beer for the lady”
“Actually, I might get wine” 
His eyes narrowed, and he chuckled, “Oh. Let me guess. You want the most expensive one, right?”
You blinked, “Um…no I’m okay with any. The cheapest one is fine too”
He laughed, throwing his head back, “No wine is cheap, pretty. ”
“I can pay for it” You offered. Ugh. You wanted him to like you so bad. 
“No, no, you’re out with me. You should have a real drink” He went ahead and ordered a beer for you. He probably thought you were the most boring girl in this entire city, so you agreed. You needed tonight to go well. Obviously, he wasn’t anything like Hyunjin, but no one could be. If you compared every boy to him, you’d never find anybody. So this would have to do. You sipped on the beer, and it tasted bitter and so horrible, but you swallowed anyway, shooting him a smile. You’d been miserable for long, you needed to let go, and have fun. You could be that kind of girl.
He grinned, reaching forward to grab your thigh, fingers clawing against your skin, “You’re cute”
You were distracted by the suddenness of his touch, and you laughed, nervously, “Thank you. You’re cute too. I like your piercings”
“Yeah?” He tilt his head, smirking, “You’re like the tenth girl to say that to me. I must be doing something right”
You didn’t have much experience with first dates... was it always this fucking awkward? His hand was inching closer up your thigh. You shifted away slightly, hoping he wouldn’t notice. Sure, he was attractive, but you weren’t attracted to him yet. It was too soon. 
“So…you said you’re late because of a friend emergency? What was it?” You wanted hoping to keep the conversation going, and to keep it interesting. You wanted to know more about him. 
“Ugh. Do not remind me” He rolled his eyes.
“Sorry” You apologised, “Is your friend okay?”
“Nope. He ran out of some weed, so I had to run down and get some for him. Even though he knew I had a date tonight and hot girls rank higher in priority than weed”
“Oh…you seem like a good friend”
He was a perfectly cute boy, why couldn’t you let loose? Just because you’d been attracted to Hyunjin from the first time you saw him, did not mean it’d happen with everybody else. That kind of shit was once in a lifetime, and if you started expecting those sparks from every future relationship, you’d be lonely forever. But all you could wish for was him. The way he was around you, how he talked to you… the way your body was on fire when he so much as breathed near you. The thought choked you. There was no way you’d be hung up on him forever. You had to move on. It had to be as fast as possible, and tonight should be it. How often would a guy agree to go on a date with you anyway? 
So, when his hand landed on your thigh again, and slipped under the hem of your dress, you didn’t stop him. You forced a smile, hoping somehow your body would cooperate, and you’d actually start enjoying it. His nails were long, digging into your upper thigh, inching closer to your underwear. 
“Maybe we could play a drinking game or something. To get to know each other better” You suggested. 
“Okay” He agreed, pulling his bar stool closer and leaned in, “Name of the last guy you fucked”
Your eyes widened, “Whoa. You’re getting right to it…” What game was this? Why would he want to know that anyway?
He tilt his head, smirking, “Don’t stall. You have fucked, right?”
Oh… So he just wanted to know if you were a virgin. “Yeah. I have” You tried to change the topic, trying not to feel disgusted at this implication, “Isn’t it my turn to ask you something now? I mean…according to the game”
Kangmin smiled, lazily, running a hand through his curls, “You’re…already playing pretty hard to get though. We’ll have plenty of time to know each other. My place is pretty close. We’ve got all night.” 
So…he probably only picked this bar because he lived close by. Maybe this was his way of flirting with you, or you ended up going on a date with the worst guy in Korea. This was how the rest of your life would be? He leaned in closer to you, and his breath reeked of beer, and you realised in horror that he wanted to kiss you. You couldn’t. You moved away, before his lips could touch yours, hoping your unease would disappear, “Sorry. I’m nervous”
He hummed, almost taking this as a challenge, hand sliding under your dress completely, “A few more drinks then?”
You felt nauseous, instead of turned on. God, what the fuck were you doing here. This was a mistake. You couldn’t do this. “Actually. I’m just…gonna run to the bathroom for a minute” You grabbed your purse. 
He sat up straighter, a smirk on his lips, “Oh? That’s where you want to take this?"
Your eyes widened at his implication, “What? No…I…I just need to go”
“Oh” He looked disappointed, and a little confused, like he couldn’t comprehend why you wouldn’t want to fuck him in a random club bathroom. 
You got up, making your way through the dance floor. When you looked back, he was already ordering another beer for the two of you. You shouldn’t have agreed to this date. You don’t know what you expected. It had surely helped Hana, but she moved on from Yeonjun with Hyunjin. Of course that helped her. For their date, he took her to the coolest Japanese restaurant in Daejon, and a part of you thought tonight could be like that. Of course it couldn’t. That was her. That was him. This was all you. 
It was freezing outside, and there was an alley of smokers right at the exit. Mostly old men, and some younger girls, blowing puffs of smoke into your face as you passed them. You leaned against the brick wall, trying to book a cab, but to your luck, there were none available. Your first instinct was to text Yeonjun, but he was on a work retreat, as far as you remember. Although Jeonghan… had told you he was going to be out in the city today. If he was close enough…maybe he could help you get home. You dialled his number.
“Y/N! how’s it going?” He asked, and then immediately said, “Wait, if you’re calling me in the middle of your date that means—”
“Can you come pick me up? Please. There’s no taxis” You blurted. A few of the smokers were eyeing you up, and you covered your chest with your arms, stepping away from their cloud of smoke, “And um…I don’t feel comfortable taking the train back alone”
He paused, “Uhh…you’re at the bar downtown?” 
“Yeah…I know it’s out of the way. I’m really sorry to bother you, I just—”
“I’m on my way, Y/N. Don’t apologise”
You squeezed your eyes shut in relief. You tried to catch your breath, but there was no fresh air here. Minutes passed so slowly, and you were shivering against the brick wall. Everytime a guy approached you, you just pretended to be on your phone, hoping Jeonghan would be here soon. The back door to the club opened, and your blind date, Kang-min stepped out. He walked straight to you, and he looked…really pissed. You straightened up, watching him get closer. “What the fuck?” He laughed, “I was waiting for you to come back”
“I…I’m sorry” You apologised, “I was feeling sick”
He seemed upset, “You didn’t even pay for your drink”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I just—” You reached into your purse, but just as you did, you spotted Jeonghan on the other side of the street. When he saw you, he did a little jog up to you.
You looked back at Kang-min, “I have to go. My friend is here”
“What?” Your blind date asked, stepping closer.
“Whoa, whoa. Back off, dude" Jeonghan made it to you, eyes narrowed at him, “Let’s go, Y/N” He grabbed your hand, pulling you to his side.
Kang-min laughed, “Whatever. You aren’t even that hot, bitch”
Before you could say anything, Jeonghan tugged at your hand, taking you away from a possible confrontation, “Come on, the subway is close by”
“Fuck. Shit. I’m really sorry” You apologised, running your hands through your hair, trying to process what you just put yourself through. You followed behind him as you walked to the nearest station. He shook his head, making sure you stayed close to him, “No, no don’t be. I’m sorry it took me so long. I missed this stop at first”
Technically, you could have taken the train home yourself, but it was late and…you were in the worst mood. Jeonghan bought the tickets, and you waited at the platform, squeezing your purse in your hands. A little bakery was still open at the station, and he asked, “You already ate dinner, right?”
“Yeah. Let’s just go home” You mumbled. He did not need to know that your supposed fancy dinner date consisted of only cheap beer. You could have some cold pizza when you got home. The train arrived, and you boarded it, standing next to him in a corner, away from the crowd. You were so fucking embarrassed, but he wasn’t judging you.
So no more blind dates for you then… or perhaps it was a work in progress, and you would just have to keep powering through. It wasn’t Minnie’s fault either, she had no idea about the guy being…such an asshole. You stared out at the window as the train whizzed by stations, trying to not feel so sorry for yourself. Jeonghan asked you about the blind date, and you told him the gist of it.
He shook his head, releasing a groan, “That sounds really annoying, sorry. It sucks that most guys I know here are all like that. I’m surprised he even let you leave”
You swallowed, “Yeah. Were you busy when I called?”
“I was just working on an assignment”
“Oh, I’m sorry”
“I’m obviously kidding” He laughed, “It’s a Saturday night, I was at a party at my friends’”
“Oh. Is he gonna be mad you left?”
“It doesn’t matter. I told him my friend needed help getting out of a date. He totally understood. This happens here more than you think, unfortunately” 
Your place wasn’t too far from the bar, and you arrived sooner than you thought. Jeonghan even chose to walk you home, not wanting you to take any deserted alleys on your own. You stopped in front of your building, and he asked you, “You gonna be fine?”
You blew a puff of cold air, leaning against the front wall, “Yeah. I just…I don’t think I should have gone on the date”
He tucked a stray hair behind your ear, smiling at you, “At least you have a funny story to tell the kids”
You scoffed, “What kids? At this rate, I’m going to die alone”
“You’re dramatic. I’m sure the other dates you go on will be better. Hopefully”
“Yeah…” You already dreaded the idea of going on more dates, “I just thought…it’d help me not be stuck in the past, you know? Or maybe the only thing that can help me is that potion from the movie you were telling me about. Eternal Sunshine, was it?”
Jeonghan laughed loudly, “It’s not a potion, Y/N! It’s a science fiction movie, not fantasy”
You rolled your eyes, smiling, “Whatever”
“Maybe we can get you on a dating app. If you’re looking to casually mess around with a decent guy, those are good. It requires more effort, but…some guys are sweet. At least better than the blind date you had”
You smiled, “Hmm. Are you on a dating app?”
“Why? Would you swipe on me, if you saw me on one?” He sounded so coy.
Your eyes flickered over him. Under the lights on the street where you lived, Jeonghan looked pretty. He looked safe. Tonight he was dressed in a simple white tee, a flannel covering him, hanging off one shoulder. You smiled, a flush rising to your cheeks, “No but seriously, thanks for…rescuing me tonight”
“Mmh, that was very damsel in distress of you to call me like that” 
You smiled up at him, “Don’t push it”
“I’m just surprised you actually agreed to go on a date. Minnie and her girlfriend must have had some magical convincing powers”
You sighed, “I thought kissing somebody else would help me. Maybe I should have just let him kiss me, but I might have thrown up if he did. Tonight…was an absolute failure.”
Jeonghan let out a soft hum at your words, “I see”
“What?” You frowned, standing up straighter.
“Ah. Don’t pout. Wasn’t a total failure. I got to see you all dressed up. You’re usually showing up to class in just sweats”
“Are you making fun of my heartbreak?” You laughed, pushing him lightly.
He stumbled back on the curb, laughing, “And are you trying to kill me? Don’t push me onto the road, Y/N!”
You giggled, pulling him back on the sidewalk, “There’s no cars, Jeonghan. You’re so dramatic”
He frowned, throwing his hands up, “I was just saying that if you want to kiss someone tonight. I…wouldn’t be totally opposed to the idea.” 
He floated that suggestion so casually. Your eyes widened at it, and you didn’t know what to make of it, “You’re…joking, right?”
He shrugged, and there was no nervousness, “If your big dream of tonight was to kiss some guy…I mean, you’re my friend. It’s not a big deal”
“So a pity kiss?” You frowned, but a smile tugged at your lips.
He rolled his eyes, “Oh my god. If you don’t want a kiss, then just—”
You didn’t let him finish, stepping ahead, hand grabbing his face down to yours. Your mouth met his, if only to shut him up. He immediately kissed you back, hands threading through your hair, messing up your fancy hair. His lips were rough, but it was nice…because it was different. That’s exactly what you wanted right now, a taste of something new and unfamiliar. Maybe you were trying to prove something by kissing him. He stepped ahead to be closer, and tilt his head, deepening the kiss. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you pulled away. It only lasted a few seconds.
He pulled back too, mouth stained from your lipstick, “Mm. That wasn’t too bad”
You stared up at him, “You’re so annoying”
He hummed, voice breathy, “Your lips are really soft, Y/N. What lip balm do you use?”
You sighed, “I should have just pushed you on the street”
“Ouch. I just gave you a pity kiss and you have the audacity to threaten me?”
“Shut up!” You laughed, shoving him away. You were thankful he didn’t make this awkward and didn’t read into it.
“No, I’m serious. It was really, really good. You’re a great kisser…but I should tell you, and this is really important…”
“Yes…?”
“You taste like cheap beer”
“Ugh…I know” You closed your eyes, feeling tiredness seep into your limbs, “Anyway, I should go”
He nodded at you, “Yup. See you in class tomorrow”
You waved goodbye, making your way up to your apartment, feeling the sensation of his lips on yours still. The kiss was nice…but there was nothing electric about it. It was nothing like what it could be. It’s like you’d taken one step forward, and two steps back. Tonight was all about moving on, but everything that happened had just made you miss Hyunjin more.
»»————-
This time, you bought the coffee. You found a cute table, over by the window, and you waited. Your earphones were plugged in, but it’s on mute, and you’re choosing to listen to the sounds of the cafe instead. The cafe you discovered with your friends was so cute. Plants hung from every corner, and there was cool seating; couches with crochet pillows and pink heart-shaped seats. It had so much personality, and it fuelled your inspiration. It could be your new haven.
The chair opposite you shifted, and Kairi sat down. “There you are. I’m dying for some caffeine” She smiled, cherry-colored lips. She was dressed in a fleece bomber jacket. You shot her a smile, trying to not be nervous, “Hey… Did you want a Mocha? I wasn’t sure if you’d like the same as last time”
“Americano” She told you, settling comfortably like you did this each day. She had been so sweet to you even in the few moments you had with her. She was a breath of fresh air. So, after your failure of a date, you had finally texted her back, and decided to let her into your life. Maybe you could immerse yourself into your new friendships, and you could move on like that. When you were standing in line to buy her coffee, you glanced in her direction and she was smiling at you, fondly. She hadn’t seemed upset that you didn’t text her back for so long. You wondered how much she knew about you, how much Hyunjin told her, or even Chan. 
When you walked back to the table with coffee and snacks, you feared there might not be anything to talk about if she already has existing assumptions of you, but once your conversation started…it didn’t end.
“So you’ve only been here a few weeks right?” Kairi was sipping on her coffee, a plate of half-eaten biscuits laid between you. From here, you had a perfect view of the street and it looked Parisian. It’s good for people-watching, but right now, Kairi’s the most interesting thing here, “You seem like you’re settling in well”
“I think so. I’ve lost track” You answered her, reaching for a biscuit, “I moved here in the fall, and it’s almost winter now, but it also feels like no time has passed”
“You’re so lucky” She hummed. 
You lift an eyebrow, “Why?”
“I’ve always had this crazy dream, to move somewhere new. A place where people would have absolutely no idea who I am. I could have a new name, new job” She laughed, “Like a secret identity”
“Why would you want that?”
She shrugged, wiping biscuit crumbs off her mouth, “I’m curious to see what kind of person I might be in another country… if I’d behave differently, if I’d have different reactions to situations…if I’d have the same kind of friends, or job”
“Oh…wow” You blinked, “You’ve actually thought it through”
“Well, yes” She shook her head, smiling, “You did start over. How’s that been for you, Y/N?"
You leaned back in your seat, it’s a plush leather and pink in color. In this moment, it doesn’t feel like this is the first real conversation you’re having with her, “It’s harder in practice, Kairi. I think your baggage ends up following you everywhere”
She leaned forward, and her eyes were sparkling, “No, but what if it didn’t? What if you could have…a clean slate? What would you do, Y/N?”
“What would I do….?” You’re left wondering. In a way, Seoul was your clean slate, but you’ve let it be tainted by your sadness, “I think I’d move to Paris…or a big city like Milan. I would…have a cool, catchy name, and I’d dye my hair a crazy color”
Kairi laughed, “Really? And what would you do in a city so big?”
“I don’t know. I would love to set up those little stalls at crowded places like the Eiffel Tower, and paint tourists, capturing them at their happiest. People are always so carefree on their vacations, and they’re always dressed their best. Even if I don’t make much money doing their portraits…I’d kill to give them a beautiful memory, something they could hang on their fridge door or something, you know what I mean? It’s not ambitious at all but man, I could imagine doing that for years and enjoying it”
Kairi was smiling wide, eyes crinkling as you talked, and you suddenly felt embarrassed for the way you’d been rambling, “Um sorry. I don’t know what came over me. That’s not what you asked”
This was strange because…you haven’t felt excited like this in a long while. You felt inspired. It’s as if something has changed, just from her presence. She put you at ease. 
“No, you’re so cute. Your dreams are beautifully simplistic” She told you, and you almost blushed.
“What would you do, Kairi? If you could be anyone in the world?” You had a newfound vigor and energy, only from this conversation alone. Was it really so simple to find motivation? 
“I would move to the countrysides of Japan…or an island in Hawaii. Somewhere away from people. It would be nice to have so much time for myself, and not be surrounded by millions of others”
Your heart warmed hearing her talk, “We want the exact opposite things. That’s kind of funny. You should move to Daejon”
Kairi laughed, “Hyunjin told me it was beautiful”
Your smile fell, momentarily, and you nodded, “It is. Yeah. What else did he tell you…about me?”
Her lips parted, to answer, but before she could, your phone buzzed loudly on the table.
“Who is that?” She asked. You looked up at her in surprise. “Sorry” She apologised, cheeky, ��I’m nosy like that”
“It’s my neighbour” You told her, reading Jeongin’s text, “Apparently he locked himself out. He needs help getting back in”
She frowned, “That’s annoying”
“Yeah, he’s always helping me get in, like every second day…” You told her, typing in a reply to tell Jeongin you’d be there soon.
Kairi sat up straighter, a sad pout on her face, “I guess that means you have to leave”
“Yeah. Shit” You realised, “I’m sorry. I would like to stay more—”
She reached across the table, grabbing your hand, and you noticed she’s wearing a charm bracelet, similar to one you had, “Don’t worry about it. You’ll just have to make it up to me then”
You tilt your head, “How?”
“Same time. Tomorrow”
You smiled at her eagerness, “Um…I’m not sure if I’ll be free, Kairi. I might have class…”
She squeezed your hand, “Regardless, I’ll be here. I have some work on my laptop…and I prefer to work out here, so…”
And that was it.
You rushed home to Jeongin, helping him get into the building, and he was intensely apologetic of cutting your plan short. He’d been standing on the porch steps, hands in his pockets, and a sheepish smile on his face, “Shit. I ruined your day, didn’t I?”
You shook your head, inserting your keys into the doorknob, “Not at all. I wasn’t going to let you stand out here in the cold. And are we still in the 18th century? You should talk to Mr. Kwon and have digital keypads put in or something. He loves you, so he’d listen to you”
He watched you from where he stood, arms crossed over his chest, “What happened today?”
You glanced back at him, “Sorry?”
“You haven’t had a proper conversation with me in days”
You stilled, not realising that you’d done so, you hadn’t meant to be so flippant, “Jeongin, I’m sorry, I…”
“You don’t need to apologise. It’s good. I like it. You seem chatty today”
You smiled, “Um. I just met a friend for coffee”
“Ah. Is that all it takes to win your heart?” 
You rolled your eyes, “Stop…”
“Is it the same friend that dropped you off the other day? That boy?”
Your eyes widened, “How do you know that? Have you been spying on me”
“You wish” He walked past you on the stairs, “That was an awkward kiss, Y/N. Haven’t your friends in the city taught you anything yet?” 
You gasped, following up after him, “What do you mean it was awkward?”
Jeongin laughed, stopping in front of his apartment door, “I’m kidding. Is that dude your boyfriend?”
You hugged your bag, leaning against the stairwell, “No… he’s just my friend from class”
Jeongin smiled, “I see…well, if you ever wanna hang out with someone not from your class…” He pointed to his door, “My doorbell’s right here”
Then he left, and you stood at the stairwell, a soft smile on your face. 
»»————-
The table by the window with the heart-shaped chairs was occupied. Kairi sat on one side, laptop before her, a cup of tea and a gochujang sandwich with the meat spilled out. The chair opposite her was empty, for you. She didn’t see you when you walked in, too busy typing super fast on the laptop. “No coffee today?” You asked, sitting down. 
She seemed surprised, cheeks dimpling as she smiled at you, looking away from her work, “You made it. How was class?”
You hung your scarf over the back of the pink seat, glancing outside. It could have been a beautiful afternoon, if the weather weren’t so dreary. “It was just work in studio time... I left early.”
“You’re kidding me. I feel special” She grinned, eyebrows raising teasingly. She is special. There’s something about her that’s changed the energy in you, making you get out of bed today.
“I didn’t want to keep you waiting” You admitted, folding your arms on the little table, “And I thought we could pick up where we left off. I was wondering about it all night”
“Hmm, right. You can text me too, you know?” She leaned forward, head in her hands, “You asked me a question yesterday. You still want to know?”
You’d asked her what Hyunjin had said about you, and you swallowed. Immediately there’s a damper in your mood, “I…I was just really curious, because…” What if he talked shit about you? What if all she knew about you were your flaws? Your gut hurt and you shook your head, “Actually, I don’t want to know, never mind”
She sensed the drop in you, “Don’t worry about that. You’re mine to know now”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…I want to know you on my own terms. Not through secondhand stories of your personality. We don’t need to talk about him, at all”
It’s like a weight lifted off your chest, “We don’t…?”
You don’t want your friendship with her to stem from Hyunjin, because…Hyunjin has given up on you. He’s lost all hope for the two of you, and you can’t let that taint this new beginning. In an ideal world, you could erase him from your mind, and nothing would be tainted by the beauty of his existence. He’s ruined everything for you, because the happiness of nothing can compare to him. 
You want the exclusivity of her. She wants to know you without the attached drama of broken hearts. You also want to know the real Kairi, without Chan, and it seems like she wants to know you too, without Hyunjin. 
“We don’t have to ever talk about him, if you don’t want to. I don’t want to spend all our time talking about boys anyway” She smiled, and it’s a relief. Your shoulders relax. You don’t want to relive the past like you did with Minnie and Jamie. 
You smiled too, “Well anyway…I see that you’re having tea today”
She laughed, a pleasant sound that calmed you, “Well, if we’re going to be doing this everyday, I have to start being more healthy”
“Everyday…?”
A single cup of coffee turned into a week’s worth. A week turned into a month, and quickly, it became obvious that she was your favourite person to hang out with in the city. Yeonjun was there, but he was different. Jeonghan and Minnie were closer to you everyday, but you only talked about art. Kairi and you talked about everything, and anything. Anything except him. She told you about her work, about the drama and the gossip with her coworkers. You told her about the movies Felix used to drag you to, and the music that played on repeat in Aera’s. You hadn’t made time for a movie since forever, so one day, she took you to the theater and instead of your routine coffee, you had soda.
You like to sketch while you talk, and she sits across you, finishing up her work. Her corporate job is tough, but you keep each other entertained. Your art still isn’t too inspired. You’re struggling, and you come home to an empty bed each night. There’s nights you get lost in the memories of summer, and there are mornings when you wake up from dreams of him. Sweet dreams. Dirty dreams. Beautiful, out-of reach dreams. In your dreams, he’s yours still.
All your afternoon naps remind you of him. Something about the sunlight, the warm wooden floors and you have an urge to be in his arms. So you stop sleeping during the day. In the moonlight and secrecy of your bed, you still touch yourself to thoughts of only one boy. You can’t help it.
All of the people who said time heals all wounds, were actually right. Each day, the burden is less. It feels like you were inching closer and closer to a state of not just being heartbroken. You had your moments though, like when Jeonghan would take you home after class, the skyscrapers would reflect onto the train windows, and you’d think of how prettier the blinding lights would be through Hyunjin’s eyes. Your own couldn’t capture the beauty he could see.
There’d be moments -- when someone in the coffee shop would order a vanilla iced latte with whipped cream and sprinkles, and your heart would skip a beat, wondering if he’d be on the other end of the counter to take it. But of course, Hyunjin could never walk into a crowded coffee shop in the middle of Seoul.  
On the other hand…Kairi and you are closer every day. The day you invited her to your apartment, she met Jeongin on the staircase, and she fawned over how contagious his smile was. She picked you up from the Atelier one day, and bumped into your friends from class, and she loved them too. She can be intimidating sometimes, with her classy clothes, bold personality…but she has endless love to give to everyone, and she’s not a fan of keeping it hidden. You love that the most about her. It’s easy to be happier around her. You wonder how her and Chan ever made it work. A love like theirs shouldn’t be behind closed doors. 
On a Thursday afternoon, you were none the wiser when she told you, “So…my birthday’s next week”
You spilled your coffee at the revelation, staring up at her in shock, “You’re telling me now?”
Her eyes widened at the reaction, and she pulled out a tissue from the dispenser to wipe the table clean as she laughed, “Why not?”
“That’s…not enough time”
“For?”
“I have to buy you a present”
She giggled, “A present? You don’t need to, Y/N”
You scoffed, and you’re so much more comfortable around her now, “I kind of have an obsessive problem when it comes to birthdays”
She shook her head, “You really don’t need to get me anything. Some of my friends from work are throwing a party, and I’d like you to be there. Obviously”
“A party?”
She smiled, “It’ll be fun. You can invite Jeonghan too. It won’t be too big a thing, but I’m guessing there’s gonna be a lot of plus-ones”
“Where is it?”
She smiled, sipping her coffee in between. She’d given up on tea after the first time, “So…there are these campgrounds outside Seoul. It’s a few hours from the city, it’s alongside the bank of the Han River. There’s a lot of…outdoorsy shit there, volleyball courts, barbecue grills, some cabins if anyone wants to stay overnight, canoes. I was thinking it’d be nice to go there.
“That…sounds amazing actually”
“I don’t know what to wear yet. Everybody’s going to be in swimsuits, since the river’s right there and my friends all love to go out on it, skinny dip and everything”
“Oh wow” You blinked, and Kairi’s friends sound as free-spirited as her, “Maybe…I could help you choose what to wear?”
She clapped her hands, a wide smile on her face and you love seeing her like this, “Perfect. I know what we’re doing tomorrow”
»»————-
The curtains of the trial room parted, and Kairi stepped out, doing a spin for you. The lights of the boutique are harsh, but Kairi looks amazing. She doesn’t dress up much — you’ve seen her entire range of dark sweaters, and graphic jackets over the weeks by now.
“Shit, you look amazing” You realised, eyes roaming her figure. A black bikini hugged her tightly, and it was the sexiest swimsuit you’d ever seen. Under the bust, two silver chains hugged her torso, sparkling under the store lights, wrapping around her navel too.
She had a smile on her lips, and she seemed satisfied with it too, “Is this the one?”
You’re in a cute boutique, it sells dresses and swimsuits and silver jewellery. It’s decorated prettily, and there’s not many people here because it’s not summer. It’s rapidly approaching winter, and in a few weeks, it’ll be Christmas. 
“It’s the one” You nodded, standing up to circle around her, “You look…gorgeous. Everybody will fall in love with you”
Her smile fell at those words.
You must have said the wrong thing, “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, “Chris would love it so much. He was always hyping me up, especially when I bought new clothes because I barely ever did”
She didn’t talk about him much. In fact, this was one of the first few times she brought him up. Every time she did talk about him, it was with confidence. They had broken up ages ago, but she was never angry about it. How does she possess such ease in her, to talk of a failed love? If it was so confident, why would it end?
With trepidation, you voiced your thoughts, “Can I…ask you what happened?” 
It was a shot in the dark, of course. She didn’t have to tell you the truth, and you could handle not knowing. She wasn’t surprised you’d asked. She just sat down on the boutique floor, stretching her legs onto the fluffy carpet, “Uh…it’s not that big of a deal”
You joined her, crossing your legs, touching her hand, “You can tell me, but only if you’re comfortable with that”
“Someone threatened to kill me” She chuckled.
“What?”
“It was probably an empty threat” She shrugged, “No big deal”
“But…why? What, I don’t understand?”
She tilt her head, “You know Yoko Ono?”
“John Lennon’s wife?”
She nodded, “After she got married to him, and The Beatles broke up…everybody blamed her for it. Apparently he was putting her before the music, and she was one of the reasons the band ended. Could you imagine how much people hated her? They singlehandedly blamed her for the breakup of…the most iconic band in the world”
Your brows furrowed, “But what has that got to do with you?” 
“A few months ago, a paparazzi spotted Chan…at a luxury store” She breathed in. Your heart skipped a beat, watching Kairi talk.
“I guess he was…looking at engagement rings. I don’t know for sure. Maybe he was buying something for himself” She breathed, “But after the news of that came out and people realised that the Bang Chan may be getting married…”
“Oh…”
“People think I’m gonna be the Yoko Ono here” She forced a smile, “That he’s gonna get caught up in this relationship, and not pay attention to their music. That he’ll choose me over the fame”
“Kairi…I’m so sorry” You traced a soothing circle on her skin, but you had goosebumps from just listening to her, “That’s fucking unfair”
“Anyway, those pictures were the beginning of the threats. I wasn’t too concerned…because honestly, Chris is the only thing that mattered to me, if he was happy, if he was okay. As long as he was good, I would be too. But Pegasus thought they were real. And Chris…he was scared for me”
“I’d be scared too”
She let out another scoff, but she was shaking, and you could tell how much this bothered her, “So instead of marrying the love of my life…we broke up.”
Your chest wrenched, “I’m…so sorry, Kairi”
She nodded, head bending down, and squeezed your hand, “I’m sorry too. It’s stupid that the entire life me and him had planned together may not ever happen because of a few threats posted online by losers. Maybe they were real though. I don’t know. I guess I’ll never know”
“Couldn’t the company do something about it?”
She scoffed, “The company won’t do shit. They can protect Chris all they want, but they’d never step up to protect his partner. Their entire image revolves around them being single…and available. Sex sells. Their sex appeal is more important to them than his life” 
It wasn’t a competition, but her heartbreak was much worse than yours. She had everything, and then she lost it. You mumbled, and you hurt for her, “It’s…not fair at all”
“Yeah. Anyway, me and Chris weren’t getting along towards the end of that. We disagreed on a lot of shit.” She nodded, lifting her head up to meet yours, “The breakup was hard on the others too. Especially Hyunjin, he…” She paused, “It’s almost like he took it personally” 
The name sang to your heart, coursing through your veins like lifeblood, making your pulse quicker. “He loved the two of you together” You ended up saying. 
Kairi smiled at you, “He tell you about us?”
“Yeah…he said I’d really love you”
She smiled, eyes crinkling, “He was clearly right about that” 
“Can I… ask you something?” You said, and she nodded, “Do you ever think you’ll get back together?”
She smiled, “I mean, I can hope, but unfortunately…the decision would have to lie with Chris. If things go wrong, he could lose everything. I would lose nothing…except him. So in the end, it’s up to him. Right now, I think it’s impossible. In summer, a news website threatened to publish about our relationship. Chris isn’t equipped to deal with the fallout that comes with that”
“Oh…I’m sorry”
She took another breath, “Um, we should probably get off the floor before the employees sees us. It’s your turn to try on a bikini anyway”
You couldn’t understand where she conjured up all her positivity from, and you shook your head once you realised what she’d said, “Oh, no Kairi, I have a swimsuit already”
She shrugged, tugging your arm to make you stand up, “You’re going to get a new one though. It’s my birthday, you have to”
“But…” You protested, as she lightly shoved you towards the rack. Tons of bikinis hung on it, ranging from all different styles and colors. Ombre, mismatched, bejeweled. “I don’t know…” You touched the material of a blue one, wondering how you’d pick one.
“How about this lilac?” She asked, pulling a set out. It was too sexy, and too out there. It was the kind of thing Hana would force you to wear. Kairi must have noticed the drop in your expression, because she spoke, “Actually, I’m sure we can find another one”
After some looking around and a lot of nudges from her, you settled on a red bikini set. It was…beautiful. It looked like a thing you’d see on a model in a catalogue. There were metal hearts instead of strings, on either side of the underwear. You’d never be one for vanity, but right now…you could stare at yourself for hours. It fit you perfectly, like nothing else ever had, almost as if it was made for just your body, nobody else’s. When you stepped out, Kairi was patiently waiting on the ottoman. She was rocking her heels back and forth, and she still hadn’t changed out of her final pick, “Holy shit” She grinned, “We’re…gonna look so fucking hot!”
You giggled, “You’re looking forward to it, right? I wanna help your friends plan it too, if that’s okay”
She pulled you into a hug, warm arms enveloping around you. You were still in your swimsuits with the tags on, but you melted into her embrace as she mumbled, “Of course that’s okay! Plus, you’re gonna be there …so I’m not worried about anything”
»»————-
The campgrounds were beautiful, and the party was in full swing. Green grass stretched for miles, running alongside the Han river. Bordering on the outskirts of Seoul, it was far from all the noise, the pollution, and the constant ringing of the sirens. They weren’t just normal campgrounds though. Instead of cabins, there were little glass houses, hidden beneath trees with floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out onto the river, which people could book for vacation rentals all year round. Everything in the city was more boujee. Even nature. It’s like the city folk had figured a way to camp without the mosquitos and the discomfort and glamorised it, fit for celebrities and socialites.
A volleyball court was constructed on a stretch of sand, and a wooden dock extended onto the river, canoes attached to it that anybody could borrow. Pink and yellow inflatables floated down the water, occupied by some of Kairi’s friends who were already so drunk and it was only midday. 
Pretty lanterns hung across poles, the only lighting for this place, and even a freaking DJ booth was set up by the bonfire. It all had a modern festival vibe, and Kairi told you that this place usually booked a lot of small rock gigs over weekends. The campgrounds were public, but she had rented out an area for the day. Her friends from work were originally supposed to be planning everything, but you were also helping them now. For someone who hated parties, you sure loved planning them. It was a perfect distraction, from the stress of classes. The venue for Felix’s birthday had been naturally beautiful, but it couldn’t compare to the extravagance of the city.
You’d driven up here in the early hours of the morning, and Jeonghan had been a boon. He’d helped you unload the crate of beers from his car, loading them into ice-cold pink coolers you’d situated every few metres across the riverbank. It was a hotter day than usual, despite the city being on the brink of imminent snowfall, so cold drinks…were a must.  
Most people had arrived at the campgrounds in the late afternoon, checking in at the front-desk before making their way towards the river. Kairi had a ton of friends, most of them from work, and you weren’t the corporate type, so you maintained a little distance, choosing to be orchestrating everything behind the scenes more. That’s why you were at the barbecue right now, grilling meat for some hotdogs.
Jeonghan had long abandoned you. His red swim shorts are easy to spot, and the official dress code of this party was just swimwear. He was supposed to be helping you cook but he was stretched out on the riverbank, sketching instead. He must have been really inspired, and from where you stood, you could see him with his feet up in the sky, nose buried in a little sketchbook. It was sweet of him to come, and he was the only person you knew, so you were grateful that he was here. 
A frisbee whizzed past you, and you looked up to see Kairi giggling. “Shit! I almost hit you, didn’t I?” She looked beautiful, and the silver chains on her swimsuit sparkled in the sun as she ran around the grass, indulged in a serious game of frisbee with her friends. You smiled back at her, “I’ll forgive you, but only because it’s your birthday”
Ever since she’d told you the truth of what went down between her and Chan, you’d grown fonder of her, and almost protective in a sense. She was so much stronger than you, and you could learn a little from her in terms of positivity. She had introduced you to all her friends, but they were too many names for you to remember. Sohee, Jinsoo, Eric, etc. You’d assigned yourself to the snacks, not feeling too confident in greeting her guests. 
“Do you want it crispy all the way through?” You called out to her, pork belly sizzling against the pan as you tossed it. This made you feel useful. It was better to not let your mind wander, instead you filled it with little responsibilities such as this.
She ran up to the grill, frisbee still in her hands, “Why are you all the way over here?”
You gestured to the barbeque, and the plates of snacks, “Somebody’s got to feed your guests”
“They can feed themselves, Y/N. We should go in the river while the sun is still out!” She grabbed your arm, and started leading you away from the barbecue, “I’m sure Nate can take over anyway” 
You weren’t going to argue with that. You’d missed swimming, and being in the water, so, you let her pull you into the river. In the cold water, surrounded by nature on all sides, it almost felt like home. Kairi swam over to you, a big smile on her face, “Fuck. The sun feels so good” 
You drifted closer, smiling, “I’m glad you’re happy. It’s kind of your day, you should be” 
“I’m really, really fucking grateful that dude spilled a drink on me and we met in that club bathroom…”
You laughed, clasping your hand with hers as you swam in the water together, “Well. I’m sure there’s nicer ways for us to meet”
She rolled her eyes, “No, are you kidding? That was the best one. I needed someone like you in my life”
You giggled, “Someone like me?”
“We haven’t even know each other that long, if you think about it. Honestly, I never even thought you’d text me back, because…of him” She paused, “But I think you sacrifice your peace for others, and…I don’t know anyone else like you”
You swallowed, and you didn’t want to get emotional in the middle of the river, “Kairi…tell me you didn’t bring me in the water just to make me cry”
“Actually” She corrected herself, a small chuckle following, “I did know one person like you”
You don’t have to probe to know she’s talking about Chan.
“You remind me of him. As crazy as that sounds” She hummed. 
“I’m sorry things didn’t work out between you” You apologised, and you were caressing her shoulder now, rubbing it.
She wrapped her arms around your waist, and her body felt warm against yours, “You don’t have to be sorry. I’m sorry I keep bringing him up. It’s like second nature for me. Does the same ever happen with you…?”
There can’t be a better day than today for you to move on, so you forced a smile, “No. I don’t think of Hyunjin anymore. It’s in the past…” It’s a complete lie, but one day, you’re hoping it will come true. Kairi doesn’t know everything that happened in the end and she doesn’t need too. She doesn’t know he gave up on you, all she knows…is that you don’t talk anymore. 
Resignation settled in her gaze, “So…you’re completely okay with him?”
You nodded, “Yup. Anyway, um I don’t know about you but… I’m starving. Should we get the hotdogs?”
Kairi blinked but didn’t question your change of topic, “Sure. That’d be perfect”
You waded out of the water, jumping back onto the riverbank, and the air was prickly cold, but the sun was still warm in the sky. The DJ booth set up in the distance had a party playlist on repeat, and tons of people were dancing, some of Kairi’s friends, some just locals who were enjoying this area. The water droplets on your skin looked like glitter, and you ran over to the barbecue grill, dripping wet. Kairi’s friends, Sohee and Eric were indulging in a platter of pork ribs and grilled chicken, perched on a picnic table. They smiled at you as you approached them, “The water nice?”
You nodded, hugging yourself, “Mmh, you guys should get in while it’s still warm! If you guys don’t mind…could I please borrow a plate for Kairi?”
“Of course. Help yourself” Sohee smiled, black sunglasses resting on her head, and she was in a white one-piece swimsuit, “You’re…Kairi’s artist friend, aren’t you? We’ve heard a lot about you”
You laughed, flushing, “I hope good things”
Eric laughed, “You bet. Hey, we’re playing volleyball later, if you wanna join?”
You grabbed a plate of the sausages and bulgogi, “That sounds cool. I’m a terrible shot but I might join!” They laughed and you picked up some disposable cutlery, heading back to Kairi.
She was out of the water now, sunbathing on the grass and Jeonghan sat at her side. 
“I got you some meat” You handed her the plate, balancing it on her stomach. Her arms were stretched behind her head, and she squinted under the sun at you, “Thanks, baby”
The term of endearment brought a flush up your chest, and you sat cross-legged next to her. It was crazy how fast you’d grown fond of each other, as if you were always destined to be such good friends. As you ate off her plate, Jeonghan brought you a couple of drinks. It seemed like he’d finally abandoned his sketchbook in favour of enjoying the place around him. Jeonghan yawned loudly, “This weather makes me want to take a nap”
“Well, I really don’t mind if you do” Kairi suggested to him.
Jeonghan laughed, “Really? I wouldn’t be the lamest person at this party?” 
“You won that title hours ago” You joked. Jeonghan gasped dramatically, and lightly shoved you, “It’s rude that you’re not my self-proclaimed hype girl”
You pushed your sunglasses up your head, staring at him and trying not to laugh, “I’m sorry…your what?”
He blew a puff of air, and laid his head on your lap, “You know…I’m like always hyping you up in class. Making you laugh when you’re miserable—no offence— and even rescuing you from pathetic blind dates. You’re not gonna do the same for me?” He bit into a sausage, sauce smeared across his lips.
“You’re such a messy eater” You commented.
His eyes were closed and he smiled, “You can lick it off me, if it’s bothering you”
Kairi sat up, laughing, “What is going on with you two?”
You shook your head, “Nothing. He flirts with me when he’s drunk”
It was rapidly approaching nightfall, and that’s what you hated the most about winter: shorter days, longer nights. The sun set behind the forest, settling warm rays on your skin, drying the water from your swim off.
You smiled, indulging in this moment, wishing every day could be the same. You were in a beautiful place, with new friends and this could be your blank slate. Tonight could mark what you and Kairi had talked about – a real, fresh start. For the first time in weeks, your chest didn’t hurt. 
»»————-
You knew you were terrible at coordinated sports, and it became obvious to everyone else too when you missed the fifth volleyball headed your way. Eric on the other team, did a fist-bump with his teammate at your loss, and Sohee sighed, “Just catch one, Y/N!”
You threw your hands up, a giggle escaping you, “You guys asked me to join. I told you I’m horrible at this stuff!” There were two teams, and the one with you was… horribly failing. Nobody took it too seriously so it was okay, it was for fun. It was just insane to you that you were playing volleyball next to the freaking river with strangers in Seoul. If past you found out about it, she’d absolutely freak out. You were counting every blessing, grateful to be here in the city, and you were making the most of tonight. You’d made Jeonghan join with you, and he was on the other team. Kairi was somewhere by the bonfire, dancing, and you could her loud singing along all the way over here.
“Just try to catch this next one, okay?” Jeonghan called at you over the net. 
You were horrible at bowling too, but Seungmin had taught you once and after that you hadn’t been half as bad. All you had to do was focus, and channel all your built-up energy into shooting the ball, not get distracted by every other thing happening. You’d seen Sohee shoot enough successful ones to try to imitate her. So, you stepped up, rooting your feet in the sand, and she was cheering you on in the background. You didn’t even know her, so it was funny that she cared this much. 
Jeonghan across the fence tossed the ball towards you. You don’t know what prompted you to jump, and this time you actually hit it with all the energy you could muster, your fist making contact with the ball, and it shocked Jeonghan so much that he forgot to serve entirely. “Are you kidding me?” He cried, crawling under the net to run up to you. He pulled you into a hug, arms wrapping around your body, “I knew you had it in you! All you needed was a little bit of humiliation to get you there”
“I barely hit!” You giggled, hugging him back, and his torso was warm to the touch, “And you’re supposed to be on the other team, but…thanks”
He rolled his eyes, holding you tight in his grip, “I’ll gladly let you win any day”
He was so touchy tonight. It must be the mix of alcohol, adrenaline and being away from the stresses of the art studio. His hand lingered on your waist, drifting close to your ass but you didn’t stop him. It was silly because you weren’t even into sports, you didn’t care about this volleyball game, but you were smiling widely, and it wasn’t forced. 
Jeonghan let go of you, steadying you on the sand, and in your happy daze, you got up on your toes and kissed him, threading your hands through his hair. It was frizzy from the wind, and you settled on the nape of his neck. He smiled into the kiss, pressing your body to his, and he was only in his little swim-shorts, and you were only in your bikini so most of your skin touched his. It was a strange feeling, to be so physically close to somebody who wasn’t Hyunjin, but that would never happen again, and to curb the hurt, you kissed him deeper.
Sohee was laughing in the background, “You guys know the game isn’t over yet, right?” 
This kiss didn’t mean anything, yet it meant everything. It meant that you could let go. Hyunjin didn’t want you in his life, and one day you’d be okay with that. Right now, you had to live in this moment. You wound your arms tighter around Jeonghan’s neck, and you kissed him deeply, and he was probably surprised that you were giving in so much, because he knew this wasn’t anything special. You surprised yourself too. 
Kairi calling your name is what made you pull away from him, cheeks flushed with adrenaline. She was walking over to you, and you ran up to her, across the makeshift volleyball court, “Babe! Did you see me hit that ball?”
She looked like she’d seen a ghost though, and she reached for your hand, “Y/N. I need you, please”
“Wait, what’s wrong?” You frowned, stepping out with her.
She was fumbling over her words, “He’s here. Y/N. He’s here” Her eyes were wide in despair. She looked like she was going to cry, staccato mumbling, “I don’t know what to do” 
You grabbed her arm, pulling her away from the game, You’d never seen her in such a state, “Kairi, please calm down. Who’s here? What’s going on?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, a tear spilling out, “Chan…Chan is here”
Fucking hell.
“Hey, hey, hey. Kairi, I need you to calm down, okay?”
Your heart had dropped into your gut, but you had to be there for her. She was breathing heavy, and her eyes were filling up with tears, smudging her mascara and her silver eyeliner, “I don’t know what to do. If I talk to him, I’ll end up doing something stupid, like kiss him or something”
You grabbed her gently by the shoulders, so she could look only at you and not be stimulated by the rest of the party, “I’m gonna handle it, okay? Kairi. I’ll take care of it. You don’t have to do anything”
Her eyes were wide, “What? You will? Are…are you sure?”
“Of course. It’s Chris, I got this” You held her chin, fingers caressing her jaw, “Today is your day. I don’t want you to stress about anything”
She let out a breath, a tear escaping, “Thank you, Y/N. I’m sorry, I just got really overwhelmed, I wasn’t expecting to see him and…I don’t know if he knows I’m even here”
“What do you want me to say to him?”
“Just…don’t send him away. I don’t want him to get hurt. But please…find out why he’s here. I’m so…fucking confused. Why today? What does he want?”
“I’ll talk to him” You looked around, eyes landing on a concerned Jeonghan. He was still playing the game, but his focus was on the two of you, “Can you go hang out with Jeonghan till then?”
She nodded absentmindedly, seemingly so lost, “Thank you...Fuck, I just…don’t know how to deal with this right now”
“Jeonghan?” You called out, and it only took him a second to abandon the game and run up to you. His eyes observed Kairi’s fragile state, “What’s up? Is everything okay?” 
“Can you take her to the dock? I’ll catch you there in a bit, okay?”
He glanced at her, no questions asked, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, “Of course, no problem” He smiled at you, a dazzling grin that told you he’d take care of it, “Catch you in a few” 
Then he took her away, leading her towards the other side of the campgrounds. The dock was nearer to the woods, hidden between the trees and the rocks, away from Chan. You’re sure the physical distance from the rest of the party would help Kairi calm a bit. You glanced at the volleyball game. They were all standing and waiting for you. Sohee had her hands on her hips, “You coming back?”
“I’m gonna have to ditch the game, sorry! Win for me, okay?” You shot her a smile.
“We’re gonna kick your ass, Y/N!” Eric yelled across. You laughed, waving them a goodbye as you walked over to the bonfire. That’s where Kairi said she saw him. You couldn’t understand. Why would Chan be here, and how had he heard about this party? Things between them had long ended, and there was no logical reason for him to come here suddenly. You were proud of yourself for staying calm though. Kairi was what mattered tonight, and you could easily deal with her ex.
There was a dance party situation happening around the fire. Everyone had congregated near it, and the DJ had long given up on playing good songs, settling for dance club music instead. From here, you could see the bonfire. One of Kairi’s friends, Jinsoo ran up to you, “Y/N, hey! Do you know where the rest of the beer is?’
You stopped to explain, you’d somehow become the unofficial host for this party and everyone must have noticed how close you and Kairi were. “Um, it should be in a pink cooler. We unloaded near the cabins”
“Great, thanks!” She smiled at you, running back there. Your eyes scanned the crowd around the fire. The sand here was warm, and it felt so good between your toes. Everybody was drinking, and dancing, making it harder for you to find him. You’d never seen Chan in person, but you’d seen so many pictures of him. It’d be second nature to recognise him. 
Then, you spotted a boy by the fire, gaze frantically looking around the campgrounds, and you stepped up to him, making your way through the people dancing.
He was in a black sweatshirt, and dark jeans and he stood out, surrounded by girls in bright-colored bikinis, and boys in expensive swim-shorts. There was no telling from his stature that he was someone famous, which is probably why none of the guests were giving him a second look. You wonder if any of Kairi’s friends had ever known about their relationship. You weren’t nervous about this interaction, even though you should be. This was Hyunjin’s best friend. Why were you not freaking out? Maybe because you’d do anything to make sure Kairi had a good night.
“Chris?” You asked, voice low. You didn’t want to spook him.
At hearing his name, he turned to face you. Your heart jumped at the sight. He was beautiful in person. None of the pictures could do him justice. In the pictures, he had stage makeup and styled hair. Right now, natural curls fell into his face, and he looked so simple, like any other guy you’d pass by on the street.
“Hey. You’re Chris, right?” You spoke, and the only thing making you nervous was him looking right into your eyes, “I’m uh…I’m one of Kairi’s friends.” It was best to not say your name. His gaze was…very intense but you had to keep cool for her, so you smiled. A genuine, warm, smile. 
The tension in his shoulders dissipated as understanding settled in his face, and he stepped up to you, clearing his throat, “Hey. Um, I go by Chan actually”
“Chan…” You repeated, smiling at him, fiddling with your fingers, “I wasn’t really expecting you to show up”
He sighed, hands in his pockets, “I know… I’m not on the guest list” 
“She didn’t know you’re coming tonight” 
“I wasn’t planning to” He answered, taking in another breath, and his voice was shaky, “I came straight from the studio. I drove…three straight hours to get here, on a whim. I know I’m not dressed for the party, but I need to see her right now”
Oh, wow… You hope you didn’t sound rude but this was in her best interest, so you said, “I’m sorry…I don’t know how to say this… but she’s not feeling great about this. How did you even know about the party?”
He was about to answer but it’s like he couldn’t find the words, struggling. Had he come here just to wish her for her birthday? It was hugely romantic, but there must be more he wanted to say.  What would make him drive all the way here?
“Channie, she is not by the cabins either!” Someone yelled out.
You would recognize that voice anywhere.
Your heart stopped beating.
Within seconds, somebody came running up through the shadows of the trees. The air left your body, and you couldn��t breathe.
Hyunjin.
He stepped out into the light and all of the noise around you died. 
The waves of the river were suddenly quiet, the forest was mute, the music was silent. Only your pulse ringing in your ears.
He was here. He was here. He was here.
Immediately, his gaze landed on you, and he stopped still in his footsteps. 
There was no hiding his surprise. There was no pretending, or feigning of emotions. His mouth parted, eyebrows shooting up, eyes wide as he saw you. 
Vision blackening, clouding, blurring, you could only see him in the centre, and your gut started squeezing you from the inside out. 
Dark hair tied up into a bun, half of it hanging to his shoulders, he looked like he always did. Fucking unreal. He was dressed so simply, black sweater blending into the darkness. He got prettier each time you laid eyes on him. So fucking beautiful and you hated him for it.
His eyes were on yours, thick lips parted in shock, and it was cruel how your heart leapt out of your chest, as if you hadn’t been training to tame it all this while. The last time you saw him… flashed through your mind, memories pricking at you like a hundred thousand needles stabbing into your body. He left you, before you even had a chance. He didn’t even know you loved him.
You’d been trying so hard to move on, but here he fucking was, the one place you didn’t think he could be.
But you needed to be strong, for Kairi. This was all for her, and she was your saving grace. So you looked away from him, even if it took all of your fucking willpower. Your gaze found Chan, and suddenly the noises were back. The party was raging, the river was loud, the forest full of cacophony. Chan was saying your name repeatedly, and you’d tuned out completely. So had Hyunjin it seemed…because he snapped back to reality, a click going off in his head, and turned to his friend.
Chan stepped closer to you, “You’re Y/N…?”
You nodded, no words escaping at him recognising you. You’d been recognised. Of course you had. You and Hyunjin had been fucking staring at each like fools. It was a dead giveaway.
“I need to see her, Y/N.”
You ignored the peripheral gaze burning in the side of your face. Don’t fucking look at him. You stared right at Chan, “Chan, I can’t…”
“There’s something I need to say to her…and after that I’ll leave, I promise you” There was desperation in his voice, one you’d felt all these months.
It was the most difficult thing to not look at Hyunjin, when he was fucking staring at you. He’d always had your entire attention, any room he was in but right now you couldn’t afford to do that. It was so hard for you to ignore him, but it had been so easy for him before. You could do that to him too.
“I don’t know. She’s…really upset” You turned around, glancing over at the dock, then back at him, “Why tonight? She wants to talk to you, but—”
“I know you’re just trying to do right by her. Something I should have been doing all this time” He closed his eyes, “I understand if you’re gonna ask me to leave, but I promise you. If she says she doesn’t wanna see me, I’ll walk right out.”
You shook your head, guilt overwhelming you, “Chan—”
He continued speaking over you, “But if you’ve ever been in love, or…or loved someone, you’d understand why this is so fucking important to me”
You stared at him, lost for words. If you’d ever been in love…?
Hyunjin’s gaze on you was stronger than ever. It burned you.  
He had said nothing this whole time. What was he thinking? You wanted to climb into his brain, read his mind and know what he thought of this question. Did Hyunjin have any fucking idea how much you loved him? You were so stupid crazy in love, you missed his silence too. And did Chan even understand the significance of what he was asking you? All of your emotions were cascading on top of each other, and the sane part of you was drowning in the waves. It was hard to speak, but you finally found the words, “She’s… by the docks. You can find her there”
They were the right words because Chan’s eyes lit up instantly, a smile spreading on his face, and he was beautiful like this, a warmth and comfort emanating from him. He was prettier when happy, and it looked like he couldn’t believe you’d said yes, “Thank you. Shit, thank you, Y/N. You’re an angel” He turned to Hyunjin, “I’ll be back soon, okay?”
“Do you want me to come with you?” Hyunjin asked him. His voice sent shivers down your spine.
“No, I…got this” Chan swallowed, and he suddenly looked nervous and doubtful of this.
Hyunjin stepped close to him, voice dropping, “It’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna be fine”
Chan nodded, eyes closed, “I’m just…fucking anxious. What if she asks me to leave?”
“Channie” Hyunjin repeated, in a low voice, hand landing on his shoulder, “I’m right here if you need me, okay?”
He took a deep breath, and Hyunjin pulled him into a half-hug. You stood by, unsure what to do, staring at them. You were still trying to wrap your head around whatever the fuck was happening right now. In seconds, Chan took off towards the dock, where you’d told him Kairi was. You watched his retreating figure, hoping you made the right choice. He seemed genuinely apologetic, for whatever had went down between him and her. 
His departure… left you and Hyunjin by the bonfire. Just by yourselves. So, you finally looked at him.
He was staring at you. 
In the glow of the embers, Hyunjin looked almost sinister, he looked dangerous in the way that you wanted him, even now. Dark shadows cutting across his face, he’d only grown more into the version of him you’d ran into the storage closet. Taller stature, stronger arms, piercing gaze.
You suddenly felt conscious…being in this tiny swimsuit, and your arms came up around yourself to cover up somehow. It hurt too much to see him this close, after everything that had happened. You’d been giving up your soul to forget him, and he’d just decided to show up, now? It was unfair. You had to be the bigger person here, and you were going to leave. You didn’t owe him a conversation, not after he’d shown you how easy it was for him to forget all about existence.
So, you turned to walk away, but then Hyunjin spoke, “I didn’t know you were going to be here”
At first, you almost didn’t hear him, over the music, over the laughter, over the river. You stopped in your tracks, squeezing your eyes shut, wishing he’d never spoken. 
You didn’t look at him as you mumbled, “Yeah…you wouldn’t be here if you knew”
It came out more venomous than you wanted, and you didn’t wait to see his reaction. But he asked you, “What are you doing here then?”
You turned to look at him, and fuck it hurt every bit of you. You hope you had a stable tone, arms crossed across your chest, because how the hell could he ask you that? “I’m… kind of the host”
His eyes widened, genuine surprise in it, “You are…?”
Well, he would’ve known that if he’d let you be in his life. Why had he pushed you away? Why had he not even tried to keep in touch with you? Was cutting off all contact the only way he knew how? 
“I have to go” You mumbled, feeling hurt all over again, “There’s drinks in the corner if you want”
Hyunjin began to say something, but he was stopped because somebody yelled your name, interrupting whatever he could have said. What was Hyunjin going to say?   
Jeonghan ran over to you, laughing, oblivious to everything around him, “You know Sohee’s going around saying you abandoned her during the game?"
You blinked, looking up at him, “She knew we weren’t going to win anyway”
He laughed loudly, and he was clearly tipsy by the way he talked, “What can I say? You’re a very wanted woman tonight, like five people stopped to ask me where you were. Also, you do remember that you’re the only person I know at this party? You can’t just leave me alone. I might actually end up missing you”
“Right, I forgot” You stifled a smile, “I was doing something for Kairi. Speaking of which…you left her alone?”
“I’m sorry…” He sighed, “There was this dude that wanted to talk to her…she asked me to leave them. And, I did not come tonight to babysit her. I’ve only met her like one time!” 
You laughed, “Really? It is her birthday, Nate. What did you come here for then? ”
He shook his head, smiling, “Oh, being coy suits you, Y/N. It’s sexy”
“What?” You laughed. Before you could even register it, he wrapped his arms around you, picking you up in a little spin and twirl. A surprised noise escaped you, and your hands came to brace yourself against his bare chest. He was grinning at you, completely oblivious to the fact that someone was watching you. You almost forgot where you were, and who was watching, a giggle escaping you. “Nate—” You mumbled, pulling away, hands on his chest.  
“What?” He frowned, and only then he saw Hyunjin standing there, watching all of this take place. “Oh…hey, man” Jeonghan smiled at him, “Wow…you are way too overdressed for this party. Take your shirt off or something”
Hyunjin’s gaze was on the arm around your waist. There was an unrecognisable emotion in his eyes. You’d seen jealousy on him before and this wasn’t it. This… was something else entirely. An emotion so intense that you felt scared of what he was holding inside.
He was frowning, furrow in his forehead, and then he glanced at you, a sudden indifference in his voice, “Where did you say the drinks were again?”
You swallowed, “By the cabins…”
“Oh, I can show you” Jeonghan offered, and you wish he wasn’t so nice to everybody.
Hyunjin’s brows shot up at the suggestion, and you were afraid he’d say something mean, but of course Hyunjin wasn’t mean, so he forced a smile, “Cool. Sure”
Jeonghan began walking away with him, and your grip on his hand was tight, you yanked him back, whispering, “What do you think you’re doing?”
He smiled, whispering back, “Relax. Just showing some hospitality. Also I think that guy’s famous”
You sighed, closing your eyes, because he was impossible to argue with, “Fine, but…get me a drink too”
“Will do” He grinned, leaning in to kiss your cheek. You watched them walk away, and you could hear Jeonghan say, “I’m Nate by the way, only she’s allowed to call me Jeonghan. Don’t ask me why though” 
You couldn’t pick up on what Hyunjin said in response and you itched to know, but…you had to hold back. You stood still, feet rooted to the sand as Jeonghan led Hyunjin to the cabins, and the coolers that lay there, filled with beers. You couldn’t watch for long, because somebody grabbed your arm, turning you around, “Why are you by yourself?” Sohee, from the volleyball game asked, “Come on, you can dance with us!”
“I’m not in the mood, sorry” You apologised, walking away from the fire. What would they talk about? You hope Jeonghan didn’t bring up how miserable and depressed you’d been this whole time. Would Hyunjin talk about youto him? Would he ask him what you and Jeonghan were? Did he…even care?
Sohee laughed, “What? Shut up. You’re dancing with us. You already ditched us in the game”
“I think I’m just gonna go get a drink” You tried to decline, as politely as you could, without being a spoilsport or a downer. She stopped you, hand on your wrist, “What’s wrong?”
“I just…don’t wanna dance. I’m sorry” You gently pulled your arm out of her grip, walking nearer to the river. You could already feel it. All of the progress you’d made all these months was reversing. You were going back in time against your will. What had all this happiness been for, if it was just going to be ripped from you in an instant? How could you ever fucking say you moved on when seeing him for a second changed your mind? 
You thought you were stronger than this, but you were so fucking weak, falling back into an emotion you didn’t need. Self-loathing and sadness and wishing you were enough for him was staring you in the eyes, and you thought you’d left it all behind. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go. You…had plans, to feel better, to move the fuck on. Kairi and Chan were nowhere to be seen, and it was past midnight already. She hadn’t even cut the birthday cake yet. You’d made Jeonghan drive you all the way to that special bakery for nothing. Why would Chan show up uninvited on such a special night? Why the fuck would he bring Hyunjin with him?
You ran your hands over your face. Every breath was harder to catch, and you felt like you’d pass out if you stayed standing. A tear slipped into your mouth, and you tasted the glitter mascara that Kairi had put on you. Kairi. You were going to find her…and you’d make sure she still had a good night, regardless of her ex gatecrashing the fucking party. Chan was a lovely person, you’re sure he was, but this was not the time. If he wanted to come so bad, he should’ve just come alone and not brought Hyunjin.
You looked back towards the fire, where Sohee was twirling around with the others, laughing loudly, so drunk and so happy. Jeonghan was back there too, he stood watching the girls dance, but Hyunjin wasn’t with him.
Did he leave? Where was he?
Your eyes scanned the crowd so fast, trying to place him amongst the crowd. 
“I thought you hate beer”
You jumped, startled by the sound. 
Hyunjin stood behind you, holding a beer bottle in his hand, extended out to you. How had you missed him walking over to you?
“What?” 
He seemed confused, hand outstretched, “You…hated beer, right?”
“What are you doing?”
He shrugged, nonchalant, “You asked Nate to bring you a drink. He…wanted to dance instead, he asked me to bring it to you”
You laughed, bitterly, “And what, you work for him now?” 
Why the fuck would he willingly approach you? After forcing you to get out of his life? Pretending like everything was normal? Acting like he hadn’t devastated you entirely, and broken you down. He didn’t even apologise for the way he’d kissed you and pushed you away. He still didn’t fucking realise what he meant to you, and he never would.
Hyunjin’s tongue poked his cheek, and he said, “No. I was trying to be away from the crowd”
You released a breath, “Well, congratulations, now you are. I’m gonna go”
“Wait—” He called out.
You stopped, “What, Hyunjin?”
He swallowed, “Aren’t you gonna take your drink?”
You should walk away from this conversation right fucking now, but you felt angry. Did he know you’d been suffering so much because of him? Did he know you’d given up on love and resigned yourself to a miserable fucking existence, because of him? How could he act so normal? 
“You know what?” You forced a smile, “You can have it. You’ve already ruined tonight for Kairi. You might as well for me too”
“Excuse me?” His features contorted into a frown, as if he couldn’t believe you were bringing it up, “It wasn’t my idea to show up here”
“So what…you came as moral support or something?”
“Chan needed me” He stated, with finality.
“Well” You laughed, “You’re a great friend then. Are you even allowed to be at this party? Isn’t that gonna be a problem for you?”
His lips were in a thin line, “You’re angry”
“No” You laughed, so bitter, so petty, “Just concerned. Actually I am gonna take that drink” You grabbed it out of his hands, pulling with more force than needed, making sure none of your fingers touched any of his. Hyunjin’s eyes narrowed, and he would hate you now if he didn’t already, but that was fine. He didn’t want you anyway.
Jeonghan’s yell interrupted you two, “Y/N! Come on. It’s your favourite song!”
You turned back to them, realising that indeed a song you’d liked in a club once was playing. It wasn’t your favourite song, far from it, but you wanted to be away from Hyunjin. You were losing yourself so near him.
So you glanced at Hyunjin, lifted the beer bottle to your lips, and drops of alcohol dripped down your neck and chest, into your bikini top, messily, “Thanks for the drink”
Jeonghan basically pulled you into the circle, as the chorus came on. You let him. You chugged the rest of the beer, because there was no way you were doing this sober anymore. Jeonghan was fucking tipsy, so he spun you around, and if it wasn’t for his arm around you, you’d fall over into the sand. Somebody handed you a shot of tequila, and you drank that too. The music was loud enough so you couldn’t think, EDM beats playing over and over, making your heart vibrate against your ribs. You wanted to laugh, because everything was so horrible. Sohee was a good hype girl, cheering on for you, grinding her hips against a taller boy, and everyone was lost in the music.
As the song picked up tempo, your hands met Jeonghan’s and he helped you move with an exhilarating speed and you couldn’t even breathe, head spinning. He wasn’t a great dancer, but he was holding you tight, moving your body against his, and it was good to feel desired, “You look so fucking sexy” Jeonghan mumbled into your ear, “You should wear pink more often”
You rolled your eyes, “It’s red…Nate”
“Huh. Maybe I should get a closer look at it then”
“What?” You laughed as he suddenly leaned in, kissing your neck, and collarbones. His other hand dropped to your ass, squeezing it tightly. You couldn’t find it in you to feel shy because nobody was looking at you anyway. Everybody was too busy dancing, or too drunk. Hyunjin had probably realised his mistake and long left. You hope he’d fucking left. You didn’t want to see him again tonight. In the centre of the circle, Jeonghan was bent over you, pressing kisses to your body. Your arms rest on his biceps, as he kissed your neck, “You’re so beautiful when you laugh. I wish you were happier like this more often”
Oh, the irony. If only he knew you’d never been this sad in your life before. Knowing Hyunjin was here, so close yet so far. He was here, but he wasn’t here with you. What was the point…of anything? Weeks and months of moving on. Everything was useless. Hyunjin had to be there, everytime, haunting you like a demon, following in your shadows for the rest of your life. 
“Y/N…” Jeonghan asked, head buried in your neck, realising you were standing still, deadweight, “What’s wrong?”
You’d gone on a date, you had a friend you casually made out with, you were in the best art studio in your country. You were so unhappy. What was the point?
It was like there a string on his chest, tying him to you, bringing you together even when you couldn’t be. Even when he didn’t want to be.
“Nothing” You swallowed, tears shooting up to your eyes, “Can you just kiss me and not ask me anything?”
He frowned, and it was hard to hear him over the loud music, “No…Y/N. Tell me if you’re okay. Do you want some air? Water?”
“I just want you to kiss me and not ask why”
So, almost reluctantly, he did. He leaned in, pressing his mouth to yours and you hoped it’d distract you. You wanted to get lost in it, and you brought your palms up to his face, to his hair, running through it. You’d never kissed him for so long, or with so much emotion. It had always been so casual, for fun, no strings, nothing. 
For just a second, you opened your eyes. You wish you hadn’t.
Over Jeonghan’s shoulder, there was a direct line of sight to Hyunjin.
He was still standing by the river, staring out into the darkness, one hand shoved in his pocket, the other lifting a beer bottle to his lips. He was still here. Right where you’d left him.
Why wouldn’t he leave? There was a path straight to him, people parted like the red sea, the taut string of fate between you working harder than ever.
You squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on kissing the boy who actually cared for you, but when your eyes flickered open again, Hyunjin was watching you.
It should have been obvious, but you were still surprised…to see him stare. Your heart hurt so much you thought you’d collapse. He didn’t want you in his life anymore. He’d made it plenty clear. 
Then why did he look so fucking sad watching you kiss another man?
The party was raging, you were dying. Each press to Jeonghan’s lips made you sick. He kept spinning you around, and you were getting dizzy. Every few seconds, your eyes would fall on Hyunjin. Everything but him was blurred. Your insides hurt, and he was looking at you and you were looking at him but you were dancing with another man. Was this how it felt like to be dying? Jeonghan was giggling about something, and he leaned in to whisper something in your ear. You didn’t hear it, because Hyunjin had turned away from you now, like all of this was beneath him. As if being here was the greatest inconvenience of his life.  
He was walking away. He’d probably had enough of your dancing. 
He’d had enough of you.
“Y/N…hello?” Jeonghan snapped a finger in front of your face.
“I’m going to be sick” You mumbled.
His eyes widened, “What? Did you drink too much?”
“No. I just…I need some air” You stepped back from him. 
“Should I come with you?”
“I’m fine” You shook your head, looking around, “You should dance with Sohee…till I’m back. ”
Before he could protest or respond, you walked away, towards the river. Kairi was nowhere to be found, at her own birthday party. It was all his fault. You had to go find her. What if she had a fight with Chan and needed you?
The alcohol had gotten to your head. You shouldn’t have chugged that beer, and that tequila and that last shot of vodka. Slowly, but steadily you made your way towards the dock. Her birthday cake was rotting in the car. Was it so hard to ask for just one good night?
He had to ruin that too, just like he’d ruined the idea of love for you. You could never love anybody, ever again, not in this same way. 
You walked until you caught up to him. Thankfully, there was nobody else here. Everybody was either in the cabins, or dancing. Hyunjin was pacing back and forth, on his fucking phone as if he was too good for this place. The question left your mouth before you could rethink it, “What does Chan want?”
He looked up at you, eyes drifting over your figure briefly, voice small, “What?” 
“It’s been an hour. She’s not back yet” You stated, as if it was obvious, “In case you didn’t know, she turned twenty-four today, and this entire party is for her. So why is he here, Hyunjin?” You stepped closer to him.
He clicked his phone off, the number he never shared with you, and put it in his pocket, “Um… I don’t know if it’s my discretion to tell you”
You stared at him. You were so past begging to be included in his life. You nodded, a scoff escaping, “Yeah, sorry I asked. I don’t know what I was thinking”
Turning towards the dock, you only made it about five steps away from Hyunjin when he called out, “Wait—I didn’t mean it like that”
You turned to face him, and there was fire in your eyes, there was fire in your veins, “Then what did you mean, Hyunjin?”
Something flashed through his eyes when you said his name, like he also couldn’t believe he was talking to you. “Um. Do you… remember what I told you at the Château?” He asked. The familiarity of those memories flooded through you, like a tsunami. You remembered every single word, you remember each breath he took, each touch. You remember every ridge and curve in his hand, as he held yours. You remembered how many times he pressed his lips to yours, and how loud he’d moaned when you touched him.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” 
Hyunjin tilt his head, “About… how they’ve been together for two years now? About how Chan had planned to ask Kairi to marry him…on her birthday?”
Your eyes narrowed as the realisation sank into you, “You’re kidding me. Is that what he’s doing right now? He’s literally going to ruin her—”
Hyunjin stepped forward, “No, he’s not doing that! But he just needed to talk to her about it. He’s just here to make things right with her” He explained, emphasising each word.
“Why?”
Hyunjin seemed confused, “Why, what?”
“Why now? He couldn’t have picked another day?” You sounded so harsh, but you didn’t care. Yeah, maybe you were pissed that Chan was willing to go to all this fucking effort for the girl he loved. But nobody would ever make any effort for you. You were pissed that Kairi was the one good thing you had left, but now Hyunjin’s life was ripping her away from you too.
He didn’t seem fazed though, and he seemed just as confused as you, “I don’t know, Y/N! I tried to talk him out of it. That it wasn’t a good idea”
You scoffed, crossing your arms, “Well you clearly didn’t do a good job, because he’s here right now anyway”
“What do you want me to do? I tried my best!”
“Well, you should have tried harder, Hyunjin!”
He let out a deep breath, running a hand over his face, “Why are you fighting me?”
You took a step back, “Right. I forgot I’m not allowed to be near you”
His eyes narrowed, “Excuse me?”
“Never mind. I’m going to go see if she’s okay or if she needs me”
He frowned, stepping in front of you, “You can’t just interrupt them. What if they’re having a moment?”
You squeezed your eyes shut. This was a fucking disaster, “He better not be proposing”
Hyunjin’s voice dropped, “Why? Wouldn’t you be happy for them?”
“Don’t put words in my mouth, Hyunjin. I would be happy. Obviously I’d be fucking happy. But Kairi loves him too much. She told me everything that happened. She would just get hurt again when he chooses the company over her.”
Hyunjin was quiet, eyes flickering over yours, voice dropping, “Is… that what you think I did?”
Your voice had lost its energy too, and you stared at him, “I’m not talking about—”
“Because that’s not what I did, Y/N”
You looked up at him, but you were shaking, “This is about her, not me”
He didn’t say anything. For a few seconds, you were both just staring at each other.
He sighed and chose to speak first, “Chan would never hurt her. Their decision to break up was mutual”
Unlike how things happened with you. “Yeah. I understand”
“It’s not just you. I’m worried about Chan too” He ran a hand through his hair. This was not the time to create a scene in public, so you curbed your anger, shoving it deep inside. He cared about Chan, and you cared about Kairi. That’s the only reason you were still here, and still talking to him. It was the only fucking reason you’d talk to him tonight. 
“I can’t believe it’s her birthday and she’s not even here” You mumbled, “All of this was for nothing then. I hope she’s not upset or crying somewhere in a corner”
For the first time this night, Hyunijn looked a tad guilty, brows furrowing, “Do you want to go check on them…?”
You hugged yourself tighter, the wind was picking up quickly, “I thought you just said we can’t interrupt them”
“We won’t”
Your eyebrows shot up.
“Isn’t there another place we can see the docks from…without interrupting them? To see how they’re doing…”
You ran a mental image of the campgrounds in your head, “Yeah, there is…”
And so, Hyunjin followed you. 
There was a clearing in the forest, a thick cover of trees that looked right out onto the docks. You’d seen it back when you came to scope out of the place with Kairi. You were taking him there. You focused on the sound of your footsteps, and on the party you were leaving behind. 
“So…what changed? Why did he pick today?” You surprised yourself by speaking first. 
Hyunjin seemed surprised too, and he glanced at you, “Um…I don’t really know. We were working on a few songs last night…and it’s like Chan had some great epiphany”
“Oh”
There were people swimming in the Han river, some of them were skinny dipping too, and Hyunjin averted his eyes as you passed them. It was so strange to be here, and talk to him, like everything was okay. His tall frame so close to you again, and he took longer strides than you but right now he was slowing down to keep up. You made sure there was enough distance between the two of you so your arms wouldn’t accidently brush. It was funny. Months ago, you used to pray for this to happen, to be alone with him, to have a reason to talk to him, and to accidently touch him. 
You tried to look for Chan and Kairi against the landscape, but they were too far so all you had was to settle for Hyunjin’s momentary glances on you. “You’re good at these” He suddenly said.
“Sorry?” You looked at him.
He looked around, making a noncommittal gesture, “Birthday parties. You planned everything, right?”
“I guess. It wasn’t all me” 
“You…always outdo yourself”
You looked up at him, from the corner of your eye, “I had help. I didn’t organise it on my own”
“I know…but I’ve seen how passionate you are about these things. The food…the music…it’s all very you”
You swallowed, wondering why he was deciding to be civil all of a sudden, or maybe he’d been civil all along and you were the one creating a fucking scene, “Thank you…”
“It reminds me of the beach party, for Felix’s birthday. That one…was so good too”
“Well, at least if things don’t work out with my art, maybe I can become a party planner” You mumbled.
Hyunjin laughed. He actually laughed. It was between a giggle and a chuckle and you looked up at him in surprise. He covered his mouth with his hand, eyes wide, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to agree with you. Things will obviously work out. You’re a great artist”
You couldn’t handle seeing him like this. Eyes crinkled, a real smile. Was he not miserable without you? You looked back at your feet, arms crossed over your chest, “Yup”
“So…is he your boyfriend?”
You looked up, “Sorry?”
Hyunjin seemed nonchalant as he asked, “Nate. The boy you were dancing with” His eyebrows were knitted together, as if he actually even cared if that was your boyfriend or not. 
“We’re here” You told him, choosing not to answer, pointing to a clearing in the trees, “You can see the dock right through there”
Hyunjin stepped ahead, forest leaves crunching under his feet as he did so. There was a pile of rocks and big boulders overlooking the river. Your view was being blocked by them, and you couldn’t see anything from here. 
“I’m just gonna climb up and check if we can see anything from there” He told you, and before you could tell him it was a bad idea, Hyunjin jumped up, easily climbing onto a boulder. It looked so easy for him.
You stood at the bottom, trying to warm yourself. You should have brought a coverup because the wind here was so strong, and you were half-naked. From where Hyunjin stood, he must have a clear view of the entire campground, a good vantage point…for spying on people, like you were now. He could see over the bushes, and you couldn’t, so you asked him, “Can you see them?”
Hyunjin responded, eyes in the distant, “Yeah I can”
“And…? Does she look upset? Are they fighting?”
Hyunjin was silent. You couldn’t see anything from down here, and you were frustrated. “Hyunjin…?” You whisper-yelled.
“Come up. You can see for yourself” He suggested, very unhelpful.
“I’m not wearing shoes. I can’t climb up rocks”
“I’ll help you” He said, turning to face you.
You looked up at him, and his hand was extended out to you. Did you really want his help? But you wanted to see for yourself. You didn’t trust him in the moment. So, you gave in, “Okay”
You grabbed his hand, only for the support, but a bolt of lightning travelled through you, through your entire body. You felt on fire, hair on the back of your neck standing up. Your heart skipped beats, and all you were doing was touching Hyunjin’s hand. It was so warm. His palm was baby-soft, like he’d been taking good care of himself, of his skin.
You tried not to let the shivers affect you. He bent down and mumbled, “Keep your foot here, and I’ll help with the rest okay?”
You climbed up onto a ledge, with sharp rocks jutting out, “If you drop me…”
“I won’t”
“Here goes nothing” You mumbled, keeping your foot on the ledge for balance, hoping you didn’t fall and embarrass yourself. Hyunjin pulled you up, tugging at your arm. You stood head-on, face inches from his. On this tiny boulder, there was barely any space for the two of you. Hyunjin clearly hadn’t calculated for that when he asked you to join him. Because now, you were pressed to each other, and his hand was on your bare waist, gripping you tightly so you won’t fall. Fuck, you’d really put yourself in this situation willingly.
“Shit. I’m so sorry” He realised, leaving his hold on you once you’d found your balance.
You were breathing heavy. Your eyes searched his, and his gaze was so familiar. Half-lidded eyes, dark hair falling into his forehead, lips pink...and plush up close. He was so beautiful, and his body was warm. 
His eyes fell to your body, noting the goosebumps on your chest, “You’re shivering”
“I’m fine”
“Take my sweater”
“Hyunjin…”
He didn’t let you finish and took off his dark woolen sweater. Inside, he was in a simple long-sleeved t-shirt that hugged him tightly. It was almost too small on him, and you could see the shape of his body through it. He handed you the warm sweater, and it was soft to the touch. You slipped it on over your bikini, and it smelled like him too.
He nodded, jutting his head towards the dock, “Um. There they are” 
You turned, trying to balance on the little space you had to stand, peering through the trees.
“Can you see them?” Hyunjin asked, maintaining a sliver of distance between you, as he tried to look over your shoulder. You could see them. Kairi and Chan sat at the edge of the dock, legs hanging off into the water. They weren’t touching, but they were sitting close together. They were talking about something, passionately, because you could hear hints of their voices all the way here.
“What…are they doing? They’re just…talking”
“Yeah” Hyunjin said, a puff of cold air leaving his mouth, “I guess they had a lot to catch up on”
Your heart clenched. You knew how much she loved him. “She missed him a lot…” You admitted.
Hyunjin glanced at you, and then back at them, “Yeah? He did too…he’s been in a lot of talks with the company”
“About what?”
His expression changed at your curiosity, “It’s not important, Y/N”
You frowned, even more curious now, “Tell me, Hyunjin”
He sighed, “It was… just about ensuring her security, in case they got back together, and even if they didn’t. Tracking down and suing the people that sent her the threats”
A flicker of hope lit up in you, for them, “Wasn’t that the only reason they weren’t together? Because of Kairi’s safety?”
Hyunjin looked at you, empty, downcast eyes, “No, when I came back to the city, they’d been having a lot of…arguments, and fights. I would hear Chan on the phone with her till the morning hours, just…arguing, about anything and everything. They weren’t even angry at each other, they were just frustrated because…he could barely give her time. It sucked, kind of felt like I’m a kid listening to my parents fall apart, you know? Watching their relationship fail right in front of me. The nights they stayed up arguing, Chan would show up to practice the next morning unmotivated and unfocused. It was affecting his work a lot. He was barely able to be creative”
You watched the side of his face, as he told you the tale of how this line of work had pulled Chan and Kairi apart. “So…what’s going to change now? Won’t they just go back to fighting?”
Hyunjin shrugged, “I don’t know. Things will never change. But I’m not gonna be the one to take away his hope”
“You really think that…?”
He looked at you, gaze piercing yours, “What?”
“That things are always going to be bad, that they won’t get better?”
“I don’t think that. I know it”
Your heart dropped, offended at the negativity he possessed, “Would it kill you to be a little more positive?”
He swallowed, looking right at you, “Me being positive is not gonna bring them back together”
Now he’d given up on his own best friend’s relationship too, what chance did you stand? You glanced back at Kairi and Chan, breath hitching in your throat at the sight. His hand was on her face now, caressing her, and he had inched closer. They looked…ethereal against the river and the moon.
“It just might” You mumbled. Chan was whispering something to her now, nose brushing against hers. It was so intimate, you suddenly felt like a voyeur.
Hyunjin inhaled, realising it at the same time as you, “We…shouldn’t watch this”
“We… shouldn’t have watched any of it” 
You turned, and Hyunjin had already jumped back onto the sandy terrain, and you wished you were as athletic as him. He made it look so easy. He was holding his hands out to you, “I got you”
You stared at him, and the way his hands were ready to catch you. He was wearing the same jewellery he always did, the same rings as the night he kissed you for the first time, and told you that you shouldn’t be worried because he wasn’t going anywhere. That all felt far too fabricated a lie now. Were any of those things he said true?
“I can get down on my own” You said, rejecting his offer to hold you, to touch you again.
“Are you sure?” He frowned, hands dropping to his side.
“Yup” You weren’t going to ask him for help again, so carefully, you stepped down, one foot on the ledge, trying to balance your weight out.
Hyunjin was watching carefully, and maybe it was good, because you fucking slipped.  Bare feet and rock climbing was not a good mix. One second, the rock was firm underneath you, the other it was gone. A yelp escaped you, but in half a second Hyunjin had stepped forward, catching you in his grip. He had you pressed you to the rocks, grip strong around your body, “Fuck. Are you okay?”
You couldn’t even find it in you to be embarrassed, staring up at him. There was no space between your bodies, and the moonlight fell right on him and his stupidly perfect face. You tried to catch your breath, but he was crushing you to the rocks. You couldn’t even breathe. Your hair fell in front of your face, and Hyunjin’s gaze flickered over it, as if he was itching to fix it. His hands dug into the fabric of the knit sweater, fingers poking in the holes, and his other hand…lay dangerously close to your ass, resting just at the end of your bikini.
So you still could feel like this again, like you would explode from human touch. You hadn’t felt this alive in the longest time, each nerve ending firing at full capacity. This is what attraction felt like, not what you had with your date in the bar, not what you felt when you kissed your friend. Your eyes searched his, for any remorse or guilt for what he’d done to you. You found none. 
"Please let go of me”
“What?”
“Let go of me, Hyunjin”
He dropped his hands from you immediately, hurt flashing through his eyes, and a part of you was happy he could still display that emotion. He’d been fauxing his emotions the entire night so well, he’d pushed them all aside, and you hated that. Why couldn’t he admit he missed you? He stepped back, apologetic, “I’m sorry. I just…wanted to make sure you were okay”
“I’m fine” You side-stepped him, walking back to the campgrounds through the trees. Hyunjin was quiet, and he followed you, a few steps behind. You knew because you could hear his breaths, and his footsteps against the crunching leaves.
After some minutes, he spoke, “Y/N…”
“I don’t want to talk to you” You were walking away from him, as fast as you could, hoping to put some distance between you.
“Y/N…you’re bleeding”
You stopped, “What?”
He stood a few steps behind, watching you, “Your leg. I think you…you cut yourself on the rock. The…branches”
You had far too much pride in the moment to even check if he was right. “It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t hurt” You mumbled, and began walking back towards the party again.
“It could get infected”
“Can you just stop talking, please? I can take care of myself”
“I’m sure you can. I’m just worried about you”
“Why are you even here?” You turned, walking back to him so you could be closer. Each step against the grass did hurt now. You must have cut yourself really bad, because the dirt was burning your wound, but you weren’t going to show your weakness, not right now. You were so far from the rest of the party, otherwise anybody would have been able to hear you arguing. You were thankful everybody else was distracted and having an actual good time, unlike you.
He frowned, “What do you mean?”
“I mean, why the fuck are you here? I didn’t invite you to this party. I want you to leave”
His eyes narrowed, “I’m not leaving Chan alone”
You let out a frustrated sigh, “He’s with Kairi, and they seem to be doing great without you!”
“You’re hurt…” He spoke, calm as fucking ever. Why couldn’t he just express himself, like he used to? Why was he wearing a shield? 
“As if that matters to you. The damage is done. I knew it wasn’t a good idea” You were talking about the cut on your leg, but of course you fucking weren’t.
He squeezed his eyes shut, “Just please let me take a look at it. I don’t want you to get hurt”
“It’s too late for that, Hyunjin”
He reached out, grabbing your arm with more force than you expected, to pull you closer, “Y/N. Stop fighting me. I’m not letting you go without making sure you’re all right”
The authority in his voice shocked you. You’d never heard Hyunjin so determined before, so aggressive. His eyes were narrowed, and his grip on your arm was strong but not tight enough to hurt you. You swallowed, wanting to suddenly cry because you were in so much pain and he was the reason for it all, “Fine”
His grip relaxed on you, and he let out a breath as if it was hurting him too. He looked around, eyes landing on the glass house hidden between the trees, “Can you walk till there?”
“Yeah”
You only felt a little shameful, walking over to the cabin, and you hope nobody was fucking in there or anything. Hyunjin pushed open the door, stepping inside, rummaging through the drawers and cabinets.
“Everything’s empty” He mumbled, a frustrated look in his eyes.
You leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, “Yeah. It’s a vacation rental, so there’s not gonna be any personal belongings. Maybe you could check in the bedroom”
He sighed, walking through the open doorway into the bedroom. The house was so…modern, and fancy, with large glass windows that faced the river. You could imagine how nice it’d be to spend the night here. There was an open four-claw white bathtub, and clearly this room was designed for sex. Why else would there be a tub in here? Hyunjin seemed impatient as he opened every cupboard, pulling open the drawers with gold knobs.
“Found anything?” 
He shook his head, “No…just condoms”
“Oh…”
“And a bottle of…lube” He chuckled, turning to look at you, arms crossed as he leaned against the dresser, “Yeah. nice planning. There’s no first aid kits, anywhere?”
“I don’t know” You sighed, “I wasn’t exactly planning on climbing up rocks”
Hyunjin ran a hand through his hair, “Right. Can you sit down?”
The bedsheets were nicely made, you didn’t want to ruin it but you were in pain now. You sat at the edge of it, hands in your lap. You had on Hyunjin’s sweater on top, but under that…you were still just in your bikini, legs bare. He knelt down on the floor, lifting your leg up in his hands. A wave of deja vu overwhelmed you. This position… reminded you of Felix’s birthday party. Almost the exact same thing had happened, when San had broken a beer bottle and Hyunjin had been worried about you. You stayed quiet, letting him probe around. The cut was near your Achilles heel, which explained why it hurt so much. Tenderly, he touched the skin around it, “Does this hurt?”
You nodded, biting your lip, “Yeah. It hurts.”
He sighed, looking up at you, intense gaze, “It’s…not that deep a cut, but…you shouldn’t go in the river or anything. It could get infected”
“So I’ll be fine? We’re done here?”
He let go of your leg so you could put it down, “Yeah”
Clearing his throat, he got up to walk to the door.
You stared after him, “You’re leaving?”
“There’s a store a few miles from here. I’ll get you a bandaid”
“What? You’re gonna drive all the way for that. That’s stupid. It’s…an hour away”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not asking for your permission, is it?” He mumbled, pushing the door to walk back outside the house.
“Hyunjin” You groaned, getting up to follow him, “Wait! What are you doing?”
He threw his hands up, voice high, “I don’t know. What the hell do you want me to do?”
As if this was your fault, “Well, maybe don’t come to a party you’re not invited to. That would be a great start”
His voice shot up higher, “I’m sorry I fucked up, okay? I came here for Chan. I had no fucking idea you’d be here! I didn’t even know you knew Kairi, so how could I have guessed you’d be at her birthday party, Y/N?”
You swallowed, knowing he was right, frustrated tears rising up, “So you wouldn’t have come…if you knew I was here? I was right?”
He sighed, each word said so powerfully it cut through you, “Yes. It would have changed everything! I obviously would have preferred to stay home rather than watch you make out with your new boyfriend right in front of me!”
Your eyes widened, and it seemed like he instantly regret what he said.
He squeezed his eyes shut, “I’m sorry. I didn’t…mean to yell”
Hurried footsteps distracted you, and you turned to see Kairi walking up to you, confused gaze, “Hey. Why are you all the way here?”
“Kairi. Are you okay?” You asked, immediately embracing her, “I was looking for you earlier”
She nodded, “I am. I am. I just I got to talking with Chan, and we didn’t realise how much time had passed. I’m so sorry, oh my god. Does everybody hate me for abandoning my own party?”
You shook your head, pulling back to look at her, and you were happy to see that there were no tears, “No, no, they’re all having a good time. That doesn’t matter anyway, are you okay right now? Do you feel…okay?”
She nodded, “I am. Chan and me…we talked about a lot of shit. I’ll tell you everything”
“Where is he?” Hyunjin asked.
Kairi’s eyes widened at him, “Hwang fucking Hyunjin! What did I do to deserve the honor of you showing up to my party?”
He smiled at her, and it’s like his mood had changed instantly around her, “Happy birthday, Kairi”
She jumped into his arms, tackling him in a hug, “I missed you dumbass” He hugged her back, warmly, burying his head in her shoulder, “I missed you too, Kairi”
She pushed his hair out of his face, hands resting on his cheekbones, “You look fucking hot, Jinnie. It’s been a while”
His eyes sparkled at her, cheeks flushing, “I hope you’ve been taking care of yourself too”
Why couldn’t you be the one to get a reunion so warm?  It was your fault for being bitter anyway, and for trying to start a fight with Hyunjin. You don’t even know what you were trying to do.
“I see you two have been reunited” Chan laughed, walking over to you. He glanced at you, a sheepish smile on his face, “I’m sorry about earlier, Y/N…”
“It’s okay…” You told him, “I get it. You really needed to see her”
He nodded, looking around the grounds, “So did I completely ruin the party?”
“No” Kairi shook her head, “I think most of them are too drunk to even notice I’m gone. Although…Y/N might be a little sad” She pouted at you, “You planned everything. I’m sorry it didn’t go accordingly”
You felt conscious, feeling all their eyes on you, “No, I only did it for you. If you’re happy…that’s enough for me”
Chan nodded, glancing at his wristwatch, “Fuck. It’s getting really late. We have a flight in the morning. Should we drop you guys home?”
They had a flight? To where? You shook your head to answer him, “No, that’s okay. I’m…going with Jeonghan”
Kairi giggled at his mention, “Your boy was passed the fuck out a few minutes ago. I think he drank too much. Eric said they’re gonna drive back in the morning, when they’re all sobered up. Do you wanna wait till then?”
It was almost three am, and you don’t think you could wait till dawn, “Oh…no I’ll just take a taxi home. I have class at eleven”
“A taxi from here to the city? Of course not. That’s not safe” She frowned. You forced a smile at Kairi, “Um. I’ll just take it in the morning then”
“That’s a terrible idea” Hyunjin mumbled.
“Just come with us?” Chan offered, and his voice was so sweet it was hard to say no, but they’d all known each other for years, and you’d feel too awkward riding with them, “I’m just…gonna go check with Nate, if that’s cool” 
Chan nodded, casually, “Ah. We’ll be in the parking lot. Look for the black car”
You nodded, “Got it. Thanks Chan”
You glanced at Hyunjin, and he was already looking at you, arms crossed in front of his chest. He averted his gaze as soon as you caught him. 
Back at the bonfire, Jeonghan was sitting in a beach chair, talking to a group of strangers. They must be locals who had rented some cabins. His face lit up when he saw you walk to him, “Where’d you get that sweater? Is there a mall here I don’t know about?”
“It’s just my friends” You told him, not in the mood to joke, bending down to be level at him, “Kairi said you passed out. Are you okay?”
He nodded, smiling, “I’m fine, Y/N. I just found out that these people went to the same high school as me, in LA. Isn’t that crazy?”
You glanced over, at some locals who were sat in a circle. The set-up seemed cozy, there was cider and hotdogs that lay between them, “Oh wow. It’s a small world” You told him, “Um, I came here to ask…Kairi was headed home, and she asked if I wanna come with. But I said I’ll stay with you, make sure you’re okay and everything”
Jeonghan’s lips tugged up into a smile, “Y/N. I’m more than okay. You seem tired, on the other hand. Maybe you should let Kairi take you home? I think I’ll chat here with them for an hour or so”
You nodded, biting your lip, “Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you here alone”
He rolled his eyes, “Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?”
You swallowed, “I’m just being a good friend, Nate”
He leaned ahead, pinching your cheek, “I know and so am I. Please, just get some sleep. You seem exhausted”
You sighed, dread filling you. This meant you’d have to ride with Hyunjin. “All right. I’ll…see you in class on Monday then?”
You got up, to leave but he tugged at your arm, voice dropping, “The boy from earlier. Was that…the guy we saw in the elevator…at Pegasus?”
You looked around, but nobody was listening, so you nodded, “Yeah. That was him”
Understanding settled in his features, “He was…looking at you the entire time he was here. When we were dancing…drinking. He...didn’t look away from you for a second”
“You saw that?”
“Mmh. Is that…the same guy you wanted to…Eternal Sunshine out of your mind?”
You smiled, the movie reference catching you off guard, “Yeah, but um, don’t tell anyone, please”
He grinned, imitating a zip over his mouth, “My lips are sealed”
»»————-
There was a black car in the parking lot. You found your shoes, and your jeans, abandoned by the check-in area at the campground, slipped them on and walked over to the car. The three of them stood there, and the trunk was open. Chan sat in the back, leg pulled up, sipping beer and Kairi was snuggled up to him. It was chilly out here. Hyunjin…stood across them, hands on his waist and they were laughing about something. He seemed so carefree when you weren’t there. His eyes were crinkled, and his laughter echoed in the open night. 
His sweater on you was warm, and you felt shy and awkward as you made your way to them, “Hey”
Kairi’s eyes lit up, “Y/N! Nate isn’t coming?”
“He…said he wanted to stay a bit”
“Perfect. We were waiting for you, so we could cut the cake” Chan smiled.
“What?” You laughed, noticing the little bento cake sat neatly in the back of the trunk, “Here? Just...the four of us?”
“Mmh” Kairi nodded, “My favorite people ever. It’s perfect”
Your heart warmed, and nothing had gone to plan, but it wasn’t up to you, “Sure... Why not?”
She jumped up, standing next to you on the concrete as Chan opened the box carefully. He dug into his pockets for a lighter, and lit the candles. It was…definitely not the way you’d envisioned tonight, but this was about Kairi, and in a way…this was perfect. 
Under the moonlight, in the empty parking lot, the glow of the candles was bright. Kairi leaned in, closing her eyes to make a wish, and then blew hard on the candles. Chan laughed loudly, singing a bad rendition of Happy Birthday, and you smiled at the sight. 
It was strange how they found solace in each other, in an abandoned lot miles away from the nearest city. The celebration was small, much smaller than you’d planned…but it still felt complete. You hugged Kairi, arms tight around her, and she hugged Hyunjin after you. You wonder if your scent lingered on him, through her. He said something to make her laugh, and she teased him by smearing frosting on his cheek. Hyunjin gasped, dramatically, dipping his finger right into the cake. 
“No, no, no!” Kairi laughed, hiding behind Chan. Chan rolled his eyes, “Jinnie. You’re not putting cake on her” 
Hyunjin rolled his eyes, laughing, “Relax…” Although clearly he’d been planning to do just that. Instead of putting it on her face, he licked his finger, tongue swirling around it. 
Kairi got on her toes, pulling Chan in for a hug. You still don’t know what they talked about that made them so happy again, but you would have to be patient and she would tell you everything. For a few seconds, they just held each other, indulging in and enjoying each other’s embrace Your gaze drifted to Hyunjin. There was a small smile on his face, and shamelessly he watched them. You remember how much he loved Chan and Kairi. They were…the world to him. So… he must be the happiest right now. 
Your own smile fell though, the longer you looked at Hyunjin. He must be cold, but he’d given you his sweater…it wasn’t much but it was everything right now. He made you crave him always, even when you were supposed to be so angry at him. The adoration in his eyes, the softness in his gaze…it used to be yours. He used to look at you like that, and you still didn’t understand what changed.
What happened to make him change towards you so drastically? Why didn’t he want you anymore? After the way you’d acted tonight, showing your immature, petty and vengeful side, he probably wouldn’t want to even…associate with you anymore. A wave of sadness hit you. Had your anger ruined any chance you had with him tonight? 
But…why wouldn’t you be angry at him? You had every right. Or maybe…he’d just think of you as the bitchy ex-girlfriend for the rest of his life. You were an anecdote to tell his future lovers, a girl to mention in passing, someone he had a fling with one summer. To you, he was the entire world…but he’d never reciprocate the feeling. You’d ruined everything, because of your sadness. Tears shot up to your eyes, and you looked away. 
You wish you never met Hyunjin. Your own thought killed you.
“Come on. We should get going, if we hope to make it to Seoul by dawn” Chan said, pulling away, hoarse voice. 
“You’re not driving are you?” Kairi asked him, “There’s a lot I wanna talk to you about”
“She means she wants to get drunk with you in the backseat” Hyunjin laughed.
“Same difference” Kairi shrugged, and then turned to you, “You don’t mind riding shotgun, right? Hyunjin’s a good driver”
How did you end up in this situation anyway? You'd already told Kairi that you had no problem with Hyunjin. You'd already caused so much trouble tonight.
“Yeah. I don’t mind” You mumbled. Chan closed the trunk, after making sure the cake was secure, and you walked to the front. You didn’t even know they had their own cars. You’d always assumed their managers drove for them, but their company probably had no idea they were even here. 
Huh. Hyunjin broke the rules for Chan. Just not for you.
You settled into the passenger seat, and Hyunjin sat next to you. 
“Jinnie, you’re gonna have to adjust the seat for yourself” Chan told him, as he and Kairi settled comfortably in the backseat.
“Ah. The sins of being tall” Kairi joked. In the rear view mirror, you saw them immediately snuggle together, and Chan wrapped an arm around her, like they couldn’t bear to be apart. Must be nice. You were jittery, and anxious again, having Hyunjin in such close proximity to you. You rest your hand on the console, trying to not look at his side profile, trying to not think of how you were in his sweater over your wet swimsuit.
Chan moved ahead, hand landing on the back of your seat, “So, Y/N. Tell me more. Now that you’re finally here, I’d love to hear about you”
You bit your lip, “I’m sure you already know everything there is to know about me…”
A warm sensation made you jump, and you realised Hyunjin had accidentally placed his hand on top of yours, on the console between you. 
“Sorry” He apologised, pulling his hand back.
“Um. It’s fine” You put your hands in your lap. You’d forgotten how warm and comforting his hand was. You wanted to hold it again, for the rest of the ride. Glancing in the rearview, Chan was saying something to Kairi, her face held in his big hands as he looked at her with so much love in his eyes. Perhaps this is why their car had blacked out windows.
“So…how long will it take us to get home, Jinnie?” He asked.
Hyunjin glanced at the GPS, that was above the console, “Says about three hours”
“Fuck. I’m definitely gonna fall asleep” Kairi laughed, and Chan nodded, “Me too”
Hyunjin reached into the glove compartment, taking out a pair of thin silver-rimmed glasses. He put them on, and you’d never seen him wear these before so these must be anti-glare, for the drive. Regardless…he looked suddenly ten times hotter than before, and you looked away. You would blame the alcohol for how attracted you felt to him in this moment.
“What are you waiting for, Jinnie?” Kairi asked him.
“Um. Car won’t start until everyone has their seatbelts in”
He glanced at you, and before you could even think, he had leaned over to your side, pulling your belt out of the hook. Your breath stopped as his face hovered over yours but his gaze was focused on the strap as he pulled it towards him. He clicked it in place for you, crossing the strap over your chest, and waist, then he asked you, voice low and hoarse, “That comfortable?”
Just for a second, he looked up at you, eyes meeting yours. His strong scent infiltrated you. You had no words to say. He was so close, and you just nodded, hoping that would be enough.
“We’re good now” He spoke, leaning back into his own seat, and started the car. There was absolutely no fucking need for him to be doing that for you. You knew how to put a seatbelt on, but now you wished he was always there to do it for you. 
Your chest was pounding embarrassingly loud. You think everybody could hear it. You glanced at him, and his hands rested on the wheel, and he looked so fucking attractive. The thin glasses rested on his nose, and he licked his lips, turning around, one hand on the wheel, other on the back of your seat so he could reverse the car out of its parking lot. God, you wish you never met him but you wanted to jump over the console into his lap, and kiss him for the rest of your life. 
Hyunjin cleared his throat, and looked at you before turning to face the road again. His gaze dropped to your body for a second, to his sweater hugging you tightly. You weren’t talking to each other, but… your gaze mirrored his, you’re sure. You stared at his face illuminated in the moonlight, darkened look in his eyes. So, he couldn't love you, but you still had an effect on him, and it made you feel proud. Anybody in the world would be able to tell what you wanted to do to each other. Even right now, when you hated him more than anything. Even when he’d broken your heart and made no attempt to patch it back up. 
You both said nothing, as he focused on the road, pulling out of the campgrounds to catch the highway. The silence was enough. You’d been in this car for just a few minutes, and you were already dying, air thick with tension. 
There were three long hours to Seoul, on a dark highway through the woods, with only the moonlight to guide you, and Hyunjin was inches from you. 
You had no idea how you’d make it there, without completely ruining each other.
»»————-
masterlist ⇒
please let me know if you liked the chapter, or any thoughts on this part! thank you :) 
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thefrogdalorian · 1 month
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Ner Aliit
Din Djarin x GN!Reader
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Summary: Travelling through the galaxy in the Razor Crest with a formidable Mandalorian is a harsh, unforgiving life. The feelings you have developed for him as you soar through the stars together have mitigated the unpleasant aspects. Still, you know it can't last. After all, you and Din are from different worlds. He follows a strict Creed and you know that you do not have what it takes to be Mandalorian.
Journeying with the best bounty hunter in the parsec has often brought you face to face with danger. It has never fazed you before. Until one day you come face to face with danger without Din's reassuring presence at your side, and everything changes.
Word Count: 5.4k ✯ Rating:  Teen ✯ Content Warnings: Canon typical violence, reader kills someone with a blaster in self defence (Nothing is described in graphic detail) and subsequently deals with anxiety/panic attacks.  ✯ Author's Note: Today is four years since I watched Mando for the first time so I wrote this to celebrate! Inspired by a little daydream I had while looking at my own Mythosaur necklace. It's an AU where Din never had Grogu but still had shiny beskar, allow it ahah. Really hope you enjoyed it, thanks for reading! 🤍
✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯
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You can already tell from how Din’s footsteps thud a little heavier than usual against the ramp that something has angered him during his latest hunt. Perhaps he will share what precisely has troubled him later when you hurtle through hyperspace towards Nevarro. For now, you head towards the door, ready to help Din haul his latest bounty into the antiquated ship you call home.
Except, the man who stands before you is not Din Djarin.
Instead of the gleaming beskar you had been expecting to greet you on the ramp, a gloomy silhouette moves into view. There is something far darker about your presence than the man you had expected to see. It is not just the grimy, worn clothes he wears that send a shiver down your spine. Nor the way his beady eyes bore into you. They are sunken in his wizened face with a look of pure malice which sickens you to the pit of your stomach.
You are initially so shocked by the fact that the man standing before you is not Din, your eyes frantically examining the features of this stranger, that you almost fail to notice the weapon aimed at you.
Your heart skips a beat when you notice that the man is holding a blaster up at you. He stands unmoving, with his long, grungy fingers curled around the dark handle. The gesture sends a shiver down your spine. However, there is something even more terrifying than the reality of having a blaster aimed squarely in your direction. 
It is the expression on his face.
His glare is unrelenting in his coldness as his finger hovers over the trigger. You do not doubt for one moment that he will pull it.
Throughout your life, you have been exposed to danger many times, even before you met Din. Such brushes with death only increased when you started travelling through the galaxy with a bounty hunter. It was to be expected, of course. You think of the numerous occasions when you witnessed Din becoming embroiled in terrible binds and scrapes while you sat back and watched the carnage unfold. At first, you had been terrified by such violence. Now, you have come to expect it.
Perhaps before you met Din and began travelling with him, someone holding a blaster at you and gazing at you with such viciousness as the man before you would have been utterly petrifying.
However, it seems that the best bounty hunter in the parsec has somewhat hardened you to the realities of the galaxy. 
After the initial shock, you feel yourself accepting your current predicament with remarkable quickness. You assess the man's vulnerabilities and weak points, as Din once trained you to do. You notice a slight quake in his hand, the greyness of his scraggly beard and unkempt, greasy hair. He is not invincible. Soon, the terror you initially felt is replaced with anger; a simmering feeling in your gut as you are incredulous at the audacity of this man to threaten your life in this manner. You are furious at his attempt to intrude into your and Din's safe refuge like this. You are disgusted by him.
You have encountered plenty of unsavoury characters throughout your travels across the galaxy with Din. This pathetic coward does not faze you.
"Where is he?" the man finally speaks. His voice is gruff, his tone sharper than you imagined. It matches his wizened, wrinkly face, seemingly hardened by the decades of experience he undoubtedly possesses.
“Who?” you ask, feigning ignorance.
You know that the man will not buy your plea of ignorance regarding The Mandalorian. Yet, your act will buy you a few precious seconds to execute your plan. Plus, the more you converse with the man, the higher the chance his nerve may waver and that his sympathy for you might increase as you humanise yourself. You hope that by talking to him, his determination to mow you down in cold blood may decrease.
“Don’t play with me and give me a story full of bantha crap,” the man snarls, jabbing the blaster towards you, "I know you know where he is."
“I’m sorry,” you respond apologetically.
You know you must diffuse the situation and undo the damage you have caused with your blatant lies. Without hesitation, you raise your hands in a submissive gesture. Then, when the man does not take issue with a simple movement, you begin backing away from him. Fortunately, he lets you go. You can barely contain your grin as you know what you have in store for him.
Unknowingly, this man is playing right into your hands. 
This old rogue may have thought he could get the upper hand on The Mandalorian by returning to his ship and threatening his travelling companion. Unfortunately, he has underestimated the advantage you gain from knowing the Razor Crest inside out, including all of this old ship's quirks.
When you are satisfied both by the distance you have placed between you and your assailant and your relative proximity to the control panel, which is the key to your plan's success, you fake a stumble backwards. Your hand collides with the button that, when depressed, rapidly releases a cloud of pressurised gas into the hull. The jets that shoot out of the walls soon fill the Razor Crest and form a temporary barrier between you and the man that obscures you from his view. The distraction gives you just enough time to grab a blaster from Din’s workbench and aim it towards your surprise visitor. 
Then, without really consciously thinking about the consequences, you squeeze the trigger.
The sickening thud of the man’s body hitting the floor is the last sound you hear before you retreat up the ladder to the cockpit and seal yourself inside behind the secure door. You are pretty sure he will no longer prove a threat to you, but you have no desire to stick around and find out for definite. The reinforced door will provide sufficient protection, hopefully long enough for Din to return. 
Given that someone managed to reach the Razor Crest and callously threaten your life, you cannot imagine that Din will be far away. If the man has accomplices, you do not doubt Din's capability to take them out before he returns to ensure your safety.
Yet, as the minutes pass by Din is nowhere to be seen.
You are unsure how long you sit on the hard floor with your back to the door, trembling as you sit there. At first, the tremors that have overtaken your body may well be thanks to the frigid metal. Its coolness certainly does not help. As the adrenaline wears off and the realisation of what has just transpired dawns on you, you rapidly become reduced to a jittery, trembling wreck. 
Your state of mind following the skirmish is made worse by the paranoia which overtakes you. 
Initially your primary concern is for your own safety. You brace yourself for the companions of the man whose body lies below you to barge in and finish the job their ringleader started. You wonder which weapons they may possess. 
Would you try to fight them off, or should you flee?
You wonder whether you could even begin the launch sequence of the Razor Crest and fly away in search of Din. He has attempted to teach you how to fly the ship for emergencies such as this, but to your presently terrified brain, the dashboard looks like a confusing conundrum of buttons.
At the first thought of him wandering through the forests which cover the planet’s surface, your overactive imagination now runs away with the worst scenarios of what could be happening right this instant, elsewhere on this planet. 
Visions of the Mandalorian you love, lying in a ditch somewhere on this forest-covered planet, injured and frightened after being ambushed by the same band of dastardly scoundrels overwhelm your senses.
The fear that Din will never return to you, that the depth of your feelings towards him will remain unsaid forever, shatters you. 
You are unsure how long you sit there. Each creak and noise of the ship, noises that you are usually so familiar with and accustomed to now work against you, startling you each time. It is a constant cycle of alarm as your breathing rate picks up and your pulse rate thunders in your ears each time there is a faint thud. You feel your resolve draining with each disturbance.
So when you hear the sound of the Razor Crest's ramp whirring as it lowers to the ground, you barely have the energy to react. Instead, you are relieved that you are now seconds away from meeting your ultimate fate. One way or another, you will finally be put out of your misery. Whoever enters the Razor Crest will not be met with much fight from you, whatever their intentions.
When you hear footsteps this time, you believe that the thuds are indeed the familiar rhythmic, certain sounds of your favourite bounty hunter. Until you lay eyes upon him, however, you will not allow yourself to believe that fact.
Fortunately for your anguished soul, you get confirmation of Din’s return before ever laying eyes upon him. 
“Cyare?” Din calls, his deep voice cuts through the ship up to the cockpit where you continue to cower in the cockpit, “Are you alright?”
You are so relieved to hear him that you could almost burst into tears. Before that happens, you must give him some acknowledgement that you were unharmed in the skirmish.
“I’m up here in the cockpit, Din,” you respond, alarmed at how your voice trembles as the adrenaline has worn off, “I’m alright.”
You push yourself up on shaky limbs to stand and prepare to reunite with the man you have grown so close to. You aren't entirely sure when it happened, falling in love with Din. You certainly never intended it, nor did you imagine that the aloof bounty hunter who was so stoic and barely spoke could reveal himself to have such a beautiful soul beneath his cold, metallic armour. Yet, somewhere along the way, as you hurtled through hyperspace together, you did fall in love with Din. 
It was not one moment but rather a collection of smaller fragments which, when pieced together, form the warmth that spreads in your chest each time you think of Din. It has been the late-night conversations sitting in the red leather chairs of the cockpit, reminiscing on your past lives. The ability that Din possesses in never failing to make you laugh. Even on days when you feel despondent. It is how considerate Din is of you; he never fails to check on your well-being and ascertain whether you can handle one more job or whether you should return to Nevarro for a few days of rest.
All of those moments and more contributed to your present feelings for Din.
You realised how deeply you cared for him when you first noticed your overwhelming desire to please him. The fact that, without even realising it, you had learnt how he liked his ration packs prepared even if you could never enjoy a meal together, given the helmet restriction. You realised that you had attentively watched how Din polished his weapons and studied how he stored them so that you could alleviate some stress when he returned from another hunt and needed to rest. You have noticed that, even though your lives are in many ways different, you both retain the same core values and principles. Honesty, integrity and loyalty are traits you both hold dear.
Only moments ago, it had crushed you to think you would never get to enjoy such moments with Din again.
Now, you stand here, practically bursting with joy as you realise you will soon be back with the man whose presence you yearn to always be in. You can hear his feet hitting the rungs of the ladder that leads up to the cockpit and take a deep breath to steady yourself, even though your entire body quivers with the last dregs of adrenaline and the anticipation of seeing Din again.
The door opens. The familiar glint of the Beskar you had been expecting to see earlier finally comes into view, soothing your nerves instantly. Din surges towards you. You barely have time to react before his arms are around you. He brings a gloved hand up to your chin, holding your face in one hand while he secures his other arm snugly around your waist. You are grateful that he is holding you so tightly. Without his strong arms, you are unconvinced whether you could remain vertical. 
“Oh, cyare," Din exhales, his voice trembling under the weight of his emotions. "I was so worried when I saw the body down there. What in Maker’s name happened here?” Din asks, deep voice full of concern.
“I heard footsteps that I assumed were yours, but when I got there, the door opened. You weren't there, Din. I was so scared," you confess, your voice trembling too.
"Dank farrik!" Din harshly exclaims. You startle in response, and he tightens his hold around you, bringing your chest flush to the cold metal of his armour, before apologetically adding, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's okay, Din," you whisper in reassurance.
"Forgive me for my outburst. I was just frustrated that I couldn't be there for you. The same group, I assume, ambushed me. It took me a while to fight them off. I should have been here," Din shakes his head, "Anyway, do you want to tell me about what happened?"
You nod, your bottom lip trembling. You take some breaths to steady your nerves as you try your best to ignore your reflection in Din's helmet. If you pause for too long and perceive how fragile and broken you appear, you know you will crumble entirely.
"Well, I stepped up to the top of the ramp expecting to see you. Instead, that man was standing there. He held a blaster up at me. I was so scared that he was going to shoot," you squeak, voice barely above a whisper now. Din moves his hands up and down your back in soothing motions, comforting you enough to continue: "I managed to distract him enough to retreat with my hands up. Then I pretended to stumble and push the button on the control panel, which discharged the pressurised gas. It gave me the cover to grab your blaster on the workbench. And then, well, you saw...” you squeak out as you feel hot tears trail down your cheeks.
You permit yourself to fall apart now, knowing that Din is here to pick your pieces up and place you back together. He brings a hand to your cheek, wiping your tears away with his gloved fingers. A smile ghosts across your lips at the sensation of the buttery texture against your skin.
“You did so well, cyare,” Din whispers. "I promise you, you're safe now. No one will hurt you," he adds soothingly.
Din brings your head into his cowl. He gathers you to him and protects you from the anguish. From this position, you can faintly feel the warmth which emanates from the man beneath the beskar through the coarse yet soft material. The dark brown material is a sharp contrast to the hard, coldness of his armour, a sliver of humanity amongst the many facets of the formidable Mandalorian warrior. You never feel safer or more protected than when Din takes you into his arms and holds you close. The relief is immediate, but it does not stop the emotional outburst. Tears continue to stream down your face.
“I was so scared Din,” you manage out between the sobs that have suddenly overwhelmed your fragile state of mind.
“I know, I know. But I’m so proud of you,” Din says.
His ordinarily steady voice trembles with emotion except when he emphasises how proud he is of you. To know that Din Djarin himself is proud of you makes your chest ache with joy. You have made this strong, stoic warrior proud. It makes your head swim with glee. Yet, it only adds to the myriad of emotions which overwhelm your trembling body.
Din holds you close, but you cannot stop crying. The embarrassment you feel at your outburst further contributes to your distress. The tears flow in earnest now, Din’s cowl surely becoming damp with the moisture that has escaped your swollen, irritated eyes.
“Shhhhh my love, ner kar'ta,” Din soothes as he rocks you, “You’re safe now. I've got you. You’re safe.” 
With his comforting words and the way Din holds you, your sniffles eventually subside. Still, Din holds you until you can barely stand anymore.
When you can stand no longer, when your body finally succumbs to the emotional toll of the day, Din is there to coax you into moving. Somehow, 
Din manages to skillfully manoeuvre you into descending the ladder. You are too tired to question quite how it happens. The next thing you know, you are tucked up in the bunk. There is barely enough room for Din, yet he manages to lie beside you, holding you until you drift off.
Finally, you allow yourself to fall into the warm embrace of sleep…
✯✯✯
You remain confined to your bunk for most of the return trip to Nevarro. The skirmish took its toll on you. In your lethargicness, you struggle to have the energy to do anything other than sleep. Din is patient and attentive with you, taking care of all the maintenance jobs and meal preparation that you usually assist with.
Yet, it is not just the stress of events and the inescapable fact that you have claimed your first life which weighs on your mind. It is trying to figure out what the future looks like for you and Din. 
You have never met anyone like him. He is intelligent, caring and skilled in anything he turns his hand to. He provides for you. Since you began travelling together, you have wanted for nothing physically or spiritually. Din is diligent and attentive, always on hand to pick you up if things prove too much. He makes you laugh like you never have with anyone else you have met. Until your ribs ache and your cheeks hurt from grinning. You think of the hours spent together sitting in the red chairs of the cockpit as the blues and silvers of hyperspace streak outside the windows, illuminating Din's armour in a way that leaves you mesmerised.
When you first started travelling with Din, you were sceptical that you would ever grow close to a man who kept so much of himself a mystery. His face was hidden behind a helmet and you knew him only as Mando. How could you ever form a bond with someone so elusive?
Now, you understand that you do not need to see a person's face to know them entirely. There is no doubt that you completely understand who the man underneath the beskar is. You trust Din Djarin with everything you have. 
Although it took him long enough to honour you with knowing that name, now you speak it often. While he vows that he will know yours eternally, for it is the Mandalorian way to say, “I love you.”
You cannot imagine your life without him. 
However, as much as you care for Din and are certain he cares for you in return, you know you will never have what it takes to become Mandalorian. It is why you have held back from your feelings, never permitting yourself to return the sweet words and affectionate nicknames. Your destinies lie in opposite directions. You will never be truly worthy of his love.
It is a thought that leaves you thoroughly despondent as you lie in the bunk. If you are this distressed after taking a life in self-defence, how would you ever be able to participate in his culture, his identity, which is so dear to him?
Without that fighting spirit within you, you are sure you would never be able to be Mandalorian. Without being Mandalorian, it will be impossible for Din to build a life with you.
Whatever relationship the two of you have is more than likely fleeting. You will part when it becomes apparent that you are too fundamentally different to prove a compatible pairing. You know that. 
Yet, it does not stop the melancholia that such a fact provokes in you.
You understand that one day, Din Djarin will leave your life.
Knowing that evidence of your fundamentally opposing ways of life will become evident once more shortly leaves you inconsolable. Once the Razor Crest lands in Nevarro so the bounties can be offloaded Din will leave you alone for an indeterminate amount of time to be with his covert. 
Since you are not Mandalorian, you are forbidden from joining him. 
The thought of not being with him devastates you. Yet, the prospect of being alone on a planet without Din downright terrifies you after your brush with death.
Although you are frightened, you are determined not to let him see your discomfort. 
After all, it would be unfair of you to hold Din back from spending time with his tribe.
You know you will never be able to join him, yet you still respect Din's creed. You admire his devotion to his Way. You do not judge him for it, even if you are baffled by some rules Din must adhere to.
Yet, there is another reason you keep your emotions to yourself. 
You do not want to worry Din any further.
Following your brush with death, Din has been fussing over you so much that you almost feel smothered. He is watching you intently to check that the fact you have taken another’s life does not leave a scar on you. He constantly reassures you that it was self-defence and that you did the right thing. When you wake up screaming after terrible visions haunt you, Din is there in an instant to soothe your anguished soul.
Even though you are grateful for how much he cares, you want to be left alone. You feel guilty, as though you are a burden to him. Here you are, taking up so much of his precious time and energy when you are not even a member of his tribe. 
So, when Din informs you he will depart the Razor Crest to join up with his covert after the old ship finally touches down on Nevarro, you are glad to see him go.
Even if being on such a skughole makes you unsettled. You wish that you had Din’s comforting presence around to soothe your soul. But non-Mandalorians are not permitted to enter the covert’s hideout, and you respect that rule. 
So, you are alone. 
You pass the time polishing and reordering Din's assortment of weapons so they are exactly how he likes him upon his return. It is penance for the tremendous amount of extra effort he exerted in taking care of you during your journey here.
After you finish cleaning Din's most prized possessions, you stand before the weapons locker, adjusting each blaster and rifle until they are arrow straight. Din is fastidious when it comes to organising his armoury. You want to please him.
It is a task that you are still engaged in when you hear the ramp whirring. The noise makes you panic initially. Until, for your benefit, Din calls your name to reassure you that it is him returning; no one is here to harm you.
Your initial anxiety is soothed instantly by the sound of his deep voice. The apprehension is replaced by a smile at the way the syllables of your name warble through his vocoder.
You hastily close the doors to the locker. You weren't quite finished with your task yet. You do not want Din to catch a glimpse before everything is perfect.
"You're back quicker than I expected," you observe, greeting him with a look of surprise across your features.
"There was only one matter I wished to settle," Din shrugs.
"Oh?" you raise your eyebrows, wondering if it is connected to the drawstring pouch made of dark material he carries in one hand.
"Concerning you," Din simply says.
You are rendered speechless. Your initial concern is that Din has confessed to travelling with a non-Mandalorian. Perhaps it is forbidden for his tribe to befriend outsiders. Your stomach drops as you panic that Din has been forced to leave his covert in disgrace.
What if, after the skirmish, Din decided to leave you behind here on Nevarro and simply needed to ask his tribe's leader for advice so his nerves did not waver?
Your frantic train of thought halts at the thuds of Din's footsteps approaching you. Mercifully, it seems you are about to discover the nature of their conversation.
"I have something for you," Din explains as he reaches into the drawstring pouch and produces a shiny object attached to a string.
You are curious about the mysterious relic before you. You do not hesitate to reach your hand out, your palm up, ready to accept it. It glints in mid-air before Din places it into your palm. 
The sensation of the cool metal of the mysterious object
proves to be an intriguing yet comforting presence in your hand. It soothes you instantly. It is a grounding sensation you badly need. Especially after the dark places your mind has wandered to. Terrible visions and eventualities your imagination has frequented a lot recently since your brush with death.
You realise now that it is in your hand that Din has brought you a necklace. Peculiar. You wonder what in the galaxy an item of jewellery could have to do with his covert.
The metallic pendant is a shape you do not recognise; there is a long, thin strand of dark brown leather attached to the charm.
“Do you know what this is?” Din finally asks after he has left you alone to survey your gift.
You shake your head, looking up at him questioningly.
“This is the Mythosaur, an ancient creature our ancestors once rode. It is a symbol that belongs to all Mandalorians,” Din explains, gesturing a gloved fingertip at the shiny object.
You see now that the metallic outline appears to be the skull of a creature you have never heard before. With its sunken black eye sockets and intimidating, sharp features; the Mythosaur is a little intimidating. Still, you are mesmerised by its pointy teeth and long tusks. It is quite unlike anything you have ever seen. You run your thumb over the ridges, enjoying the sensation of the metal in your hand.
"I had it forged by my tribe's Armorer from the excess beskar of my new armour," Din explains, "The chain is taken from a strip of my bandolier, too."
"The craftsmanship..." you whisper, awestruck, "It's beautiful."
Then, Din says something which catches you completely off-guard. 
“I want you to be part of my Clan, cyare,” Din announces.
Your mouth falls open. You look up at Din, stunned at his declaration. He does not want to leave you behind or cast you out. He wants you to be with him forever. You begin to feel the rumbling of tears somewhere deep inside your gut. You almost allow yourself to smile.
Almost.
Your moment of happiness shatters when you realise joining Din's Clan likely comes with an expectation to be Mandalorian. You hope the necklace does not come with the assumption of committing yourself to something you remain unsure that you want for yourself. 
Yet bringing that up to Din would surely disappoint him, a terrible prospect. His Way is of utmost importance to him.
“But, Din… I’m not Mandalorian,” you whisper, your eyes filling with tears as you remind him of your differences.
“It doesn’t matter,” Din shakes his head.
"Are you sure?" you breathe, stunned.
"I'm positive, cyare. You can take this necklace to any Mandalorian and say my name. If you present this to a Mandalorian covert and tell them Din Djarin set you, they will ensure you are protected and safe for as long as you need. No matter where you are in the galaxy.”
“Even though I’m not Mandalorian?” you whisper, astonished. 
“Yes. One does not have to walk The Way in order to be protected by us," Din nods.
You are stunned. For so long, you had mistaken Mandalorian covertness for exclusion. You had believed they disliked and distrusted anyone who did not follow their way of life. Now you realise that you had entirely misconstrued their seclusion. Mandalorians, it transpires, are fiercely protective over anyone they care about, an honour not restricted to their own kind.
"After what happened, I want to feel reassured by knowing that you would have somewhere to turn to for refuge if something like that were ever to happen again. More than that, I want you…” Din sighs, steadying himself. “I want you to be part of my Clan,” he adds, his voice full of certainty.
“I couldn't possibly be worthy of such a thing,” you shake your head, unable to meet his gaze, "I shot one nerfherder in self-defence and look at the toll it took on me," you scoff, fiddling with the necklace and avoiding Din's gaze.
Din is unsatisfied with your words. He brings his hand to your chin and tilts it upwards until your eyes are level with the steely gaze of his dark T-visor.
“You are absolutely worthy,” Din adds with finality and certainty in his voice that causes your chest to constrict, “You have shown as much fight and resolve as any Mandalorian warrior would be proud of. You may not be Mandalorian, but you have our spirit. Our manda, our soul. You do not have to be Mandalorian to be loved by one. So, it would be the honour of my life if you would join my Clan, cyare,” Din adds solemnly.
He takes his hand from under your chin and balls it into a fist. Then he raises his clenched fist to his chestplate and holds it over his heart. He bows his head in your direction, wordlessly demonstrating his affection for you.
With his beautiful words and deferent actions, how could you refuse such an offer?
“Then, I will happily join your clan, Din Djarin,” you whisper.
You watch with curiosity as Din takes the necklace from your hand. Then, he softly places a gloved hand on your shoulder and gently turns you around. You realise what he is doing when the pendant slides down over your chest. You smile as you feel the cool metal make contact with your skin through the cloth of the simple clothes you wear. The thin leather is a comforting presence around your neck, especially when combined with the weight of the Mythosaur.
You turn around to face Din once again. You are unable to prevent the grin that spreads across your features. For the first time since that terrifying encounter with that ghastly man, you feel a true sense of tranquillity. You no longer find yourself plagued by fear for the future.
You realise that you should probably make some profound speech of gratitude. Instead, you sigh in contentment as you stand before Din. You are too happy to find words, perfectly content merely to stand before the man you adore. A man whom, thanks to the necklace you wear around your neck, you are now bound to. 
Din brings his hands to your sides, resting them against your body as his thumbs rub fond circles into your hips. There is no fear, no uncertainty anymore.
The future for you and Din is bright.
Din eventually sighs fondly, cupping your chin with his gloved hand.
“It suits you,” he nods in approval.
You smile at the gesture and turn your lips into his fingers, placing a kiss on the soft leather there. Then, Din brings your forehead to his helmet in a gesture he has assured you is akin to a kiss in his eyes. For now, at least, it is the only way he can kiss you.
You stay like that for a few moments. 
Eventually, Din's deep voice breaks the silence. 
“Ner aliit,” Din whispers. Then adds in basic, for the benefit of your ears:
“My family.”
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wonwoonlight · 1 year
Text
chocolate rum cookies | jeon wonwoo
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➝ Wonwoo x Reader
➝ nonidol!au // friends with benefits to ?? // fluff // ...slice of life? // angst if u squint
➝ word count: 3.5k~
➝warning: no smut scenes but there are mentions of sex and implications of it so minor dni!! mentions of alcohol, food, curses. very self indulgent bc i write this for my birthday hehe. this wonwoo made an appearance <3
➝A/N: hi. so this wasn't exactly... planned. i was just randomly sitting down with my google doc open and suddenly i finished writing... this in one day. gotta say that, when you do write for yourself, it is much easier to write and it's been quite some time since i'm actually happy with what i put out. but also just to put it out there, this fic is actually finished somewhere before february ended but i decided to post it for my birthday because i did start writing it with the thoughts 'i miss wonwoo' and 'i kinda wanna post smth on my bday' so. enjoy. i'm happy to say i'm content with how this one turns to be. here's to turning 25 lol
[✾✾✾]
You hear the door open, signalling Wonwoo’s arrival, and when you feel his presence nearby, you don’t even look up from your phone when you say, “No.”
Wonwoo smiles in amusement, irking an eyebrow as he settles next to you. “I haven’t said anything though?”
“You’re gonna ask me out again.” You roll your eyes, already used to his antics. You don’t even pretend to care about his mock heartache anymore when he clutches his chest.
You’re not sure what Jeon Wonwoo has in his mind, but he’s been asking you out on dates everytime he sees you since last month. Problem is, you see him a lot. A little hard not to with the friends with benefits situation that has been going on between you and him for the last six months.
Even right now, you’re in his place. You’ve been here since almost half an hour ago, entertaining yourself as you wait for Wonwoo to get home because he’s out when you called, and when he said you’re allowed to use the access he’s given you some time ago, you decided to barge into his place like it’s your own.
You’re practically here more often than in your own dorm, anyway.
It almost feels like a second home to you.
But you don’t want to think too much about it. Not about the fact that you have access to Wonwoo’s place. Not about the fact that you’re basically exclusive. Not about the fact that you talk to him practically everyday.
Nope.
“You don’t even pretend to consider it anymore.” He sighs, and you hate that you can’t tell if he’s joking or not. You’ve been telling him to cut it out, but it surely doesn’t look like he has any plans of listening to you. “Here, I got this for you.”
Now that catches your attention, and you actually jump a little on the sofa before you take the small package, take Wonwoo’s face in your arms, and kiss him square in the lips as a thank you.
“You won’t go on a date with me but will kiss me over some cookies. Nice,” he grumbles, though the grin blooming into his face when you pull away betrays him.
Clutching the cookie into your chest like it’s the most precious thing in the world, you regard him with stars in your eyes. “Where did you even find this? I’ve been looking for this forever and I couldn’t find it! I don’t even know the name of the shop that sells this?”
“I’m just capable like that.” He shrugs like it’s nothing, telling you he was out with a friend and the packaging looked familiar so he got it just in case. You’ve been telling him about that craving of yours, a chocolate rum cookie that some random classmate offered some time ago–one that is so good but you don’t know the brand, only remember the flavour and the packaging.
And you can’t even ask that classmate again because she was an exchange student that you’ve only spoken for a total of two times in your life, and she has returned to her country.
You don't even know her name.
“You have to tell me where you got this.” The packaging just has to be so empty; a very simple but elegant design that doesn’t state the shop’s name whatsoever.
“Mmm. Perhaps if you say yes I’ll bring you there.”
“No.”
“Hard pass then.” He chuckles and messes your hair. “Eat. I’ll buy you some more if you’re a good girl.”
The innuendo is not purposeful on his part, and it’s two seconds later that he realizes what he’s just said and he cringes so hard that you laugh, because as much as it’s physical between the two of you, Wonwoo absolutely abhors that particular… moniker. It’s always been an on-going joke between you two, and you laugh some more when his frown deepens, launching yourself into his lap and peppering kisses on his jaw.
“You want me to be one?”
“Shut up.” He grunts, though his arms wrap around your waist anyway and he bends his neck to give you more access.
“I can be if you want to, you know?” You whisper against his ear, not missing the way his hold tightens around you. You’re suddenly very aware of the fact that the only thing separating you and him is the clothes you’re wearing.
“Shut up.” He repeats and kisses you some more. When it gets almost hard to breath, he doesn’t forget to get the cookie out of your grasp and carefully places it on the coffee table before hauling you up and carrying you into his room, your squeal and laughter echoes throughout his empty apartment.
You don’t get to eat your chocolate rum cookie until later that evening, already showered and dressed in Wonwoo’s oversized hoodie as you cuddle into his chest with a movie playing in front of you.
[✾✾✾]
You don’t know what’s taking Wonwoo so long, but he’s already fifteen minutes late without any text messages so you decide you’ll just get some drink first and let loose. He’s probably going to be pissed because he’s never liked it when you go to a bar by yourself (something about men looking at what’s his, whatever that means) but whatever, it’s his fault for being late and you’re currently not relaxed enough to wait for him by yourself in a place full of people. 
The whiskey burns your throat in a pleasant way, though now that you think about it, you shouldn’t have drunk everything in one go when you still have moments to spare as you wait for Wonwoo. But, then again, you can always just order more.
You’ve never been to this bar before, but after hearing how good the vibe is from a friend, you decided to go to check it out. Clubs have never really been your style–people are way too drunk and the music is too loud.
Your friend is absolutely correct when she said you would fit right with this particular bar; there are just enough people for it to be crowded but not really crowded that you get dizzy. Plus, the music is up to your taste and you find yourself nodding to whatever’s playing in the background as you scan through the sea of people while you lean on the wooden bar.
You were just about to order again when someone joins you by the bar, a tall, handsome man that doesn’t look sleazy at first glance. And he’s offering to buy you a drink. You subtly try to check him out; this guy is definitely taller and bigger than Wonwoo, though he doesn’t look harmful and he doesn’t look like he’s hunting for prey. His smile when he offers to pay for your drink looks… honest, if anything. The guy doesn’t even look flirty. Perhaps he thinks you’re interesting and are in need of some company.
The side of your lips lift in an amused smile, Wonwoo will be pissed as fuck if he finds out, but do you care? No you don’t. You’re not going to turn down free drinks from a handsome stranger that doesn’t look dangerous.
“So how come you’re by yourself?” He bends to your height, not too close that it makes you uncomfortable, and just enough for you to hear him over the music. “I’m Mingyu, by the way.”
Hmm. Handsome and with manners.
“Why do you want to know?” You answer with a teasing smile, sipping on your cocktail. Mingyu laughs when you say you’re not telling him his name, if only because he hasn’t earned it yet, and you’re pleasantly surprised when he says it’s understandable and he’s glad you know how to play your cards. “What about you, why are you by yourself?”
“Eh. I just feel like drinking tonight and you seem to be someone who doesn’t mind talking to strangers.”
“Ouch. Is that how I look like? Easy?” You pretend to be offended, and it’s almost cute how Mingyu laughs yet again and rephrases his words. If this was you six months ago, you’d definitely flirt with him and eat up everything that comes out of his mouth, perhaps you’d even end up going back with him. The guy is handsome and you can actually hold conversations with him, which is already a very big difference compared to a lot of guys that have tried talking you up in places like this.
But alas. Your eyes twinkle as you catch the figure of the man who’s the exact reason why you’re not flirting with Mingyu making his way towards you, why you don’t feel the excitement that used to rush through your blood at times like this, and why ‘handsome’ is the only thing you think of Mingyu even though he seems much more than that.
You don’t care enough to think about Mingyu in different aspects.
The way Wonwoo immediately grabs your waist is almost funny, and you have to actually bite your lip and clutch the cocktail glass between your fingers to stop yourself from grinning. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Your boyfriend?” Mingyu asks goodnaturedly–almost concerned, even–making sure he’s not some random guy who’s grabbing you without consent. 
“Yes.” Wonwoo almost growls, and you have to plant your palm on his chest to calm him down, telling him Mingyu is harmless even though your ears are heating up from his word. You’d need to get back to that boyfriend thing later.
Mingyu sends you a look, and you’re absolutely, thoroughly would’ve swooned if you’re… uh… single (you are) and you’re not seeing… anyone (huh?). But you send him a smile, an actual smile this time, and you nod before you tell him it’s nice meeting him.
Wonwoo refuses to look at the interaction, but you can tell that he’s more relaxed than he was seconds ago and his grip on your waist is now replaced with his thumb caressing you through the material of your dress.
Would it hurt to push his button one more time?
“Hey.” You call to Mingyu once again when he’s about to leave, making both guys turn to you in confusion–Wonwoo more so in betrayal–and when you tell him you’d love to see him again someday and finally tell him your name with a wink, Mingyu gets exactly what you’re playing at. Another laugh bubbles out of his throat and he returns the gesture with a ‘have fun!’ before making his way out of your sight.
“What the fuck was that?”
It’s not often that Wonwoo curses, and you know you’ve pushed just enough of his buttons for him to react this way. If anything, though, adoration fills your chest and you have to physically hold yourself back from squeezing his cheeks.
“What? You were late and he accompanied me. Nice guy, right?” You try to play innocent, placing your glass on the bar and turning in his arm to face him. He looks especially nice today, with his hair styled a little and a denim jacket that you haven’t seen him worn before. You can feel your heartbeat picking up the longer you stare at him, and you don’t register what’s coming out of his mouth because you’re lost in your head.
Your eyes fall to his lips, and it’s when he clicks his tongue that you finally look back at him, eyes meeting his in mock innocence.
“You’re not listening to me, are you?”
You shake your head to confirm his suspicion. The guy can't even get mad at you even if he wants to.
“So.” Wonwoo raises his eyebrow in question, urging you to continue. “Boyfriend, huh?”
Wonwoo opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t give him room to talk more because you already dive into his lips, your palms on his shoulders and his arms wrap around you once again–probably muscle memory at this point. There’s no rush in this kiss though, you really just feel like kissing him and you do exactly that. Wonwoo doesn’t seem to mind either, because his lips chase yours when you’re about to pull away.
“Won I–”
“Hmm?”
“I need to–”
“Mmm.”
“Need to–”
“To what?” He finally pulls away, annoyed that you keep on trying to pull away. Even in the dim lighting of the bar, you can tell that he’s a little flushed too and there’s something about it that makes your heartbeat speed up once again. Were you two just… kissing in a public space for no reason at all?
“Need to breathe, baby.” You finish your sentence, suddenly shy now that you’re looking at each other. You dive into his neck before he catches your embarrassment though, and he simply chuckles before he takes a sip of your drink, whatever annoyance in his chest from looking at you and Mingyu, whoever that guy is, disappears just like that.
God, it’s not funny how whipped he is for you.
“What are you doing tomorrow?”
“Nothing.”
“Let’s go on a date.”
“Not a chance.” You beam, though you reject him with a kiss on his cheek and you tell him to finish your drink because you don’t feel like being here anymore. You won’t let him ponder too long on your rejection though, your fingers caressing his neck and your lips finding his ear. “Actually, let’s go back to your place. I don’t have anything to do tomorrow.”
Wonwoo shudders a little at that, still not used to the way you’d get vocal about what you want when you’re tipsy. That’s your code of saying you want to have rough sex all night–or however he would have you, really.
So Wonwoo finishes your drink in one go and grabs your hand to pull you out of the bar, missing the way you exchange grins with Mingyu as you accidentally catch his eyes before you exit the place.
[✾✾✾]
“You know you’ll spend less money if you just tell me where to buy these cookies?” You pout, still trying to get it out of him.
He doesn’t relent though, simply shrugs and places your hot chocolate on the table. “I don’t mind buying you things.”
“But whyyyy.” You whine, crossing your legs to face him on the sofa.
“I told you I’d bring you there if you go on a date with me.”
You stare at him, mind wandering to how easy it is for him to say this over and over again. You still don’t know why he’s suddenly so adamant about that, and while you actually do feel butterflies in your whole body everytime he does it, sometimes you wonder if he’s just messing with you.
Does he really mean it?
But if he does, wouldn’t he eventually be done with you because you keep on rejecting him?
But if you say yes and he’s actually just joking–what does that make you?
What if you try it out and it… messes things up?
You’re happy with whatever you have with him now, and you trust each other enough to know you are exclusive. Is there really any need to put a label between you two?
“Hey, you okay?” He asks, snapping you out of your daze.
“Huh. Yeah, sorry. You were saying?”
You see the way Wonwoo presses his lips together and you can tell the gears are turning in his head. But he beats you to it before you can ask, and your heart breaks a little at how soft he sounds.
“Am I making you uncomfortable?”
“What? No!” You sit straight, taken aback from the sudden turn of the conversation. “What makes you say that?”
Wonwoo sighs and repeats his words. But he faces you this time and, for the first time since he asked you the question he’s been asking you the past few months, it’s obvious how unsure he is, as if he’s suddenly questioning himself on what he’s been doing.
“Am I making you uncomfortable by asking you out on a date?”
“Oh… Wonwoo…” You take his hand, your desire to comfort him bigger than anything. You don’t like seeing him like this, and as much as your own thoughts have been haunting you, you suppose you do need to talk about it one way or another. “No, you’re not. But… Can I ask you something?”
He doesn’t answer, but you take the way he squeezes your hand as a ‘yes’.
“Why?”
He doesn’t seem to get your question, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean why?”
“Why do you suddenly want to date me?”
It’s almost comical the way he blinks slowly, then repeatedly, like he doesn’t get why you’d ask that. He thinks carefully before he says his next words though, and he mentally winces at what he’s about to say but there’s really no other way to say it.
“We’ve been… sleeping together for, like, six months.” He starts, and his face contorts like the words personally offend him. But the more you listen to him talk about all the things you’ve been doing the past few months, how you’re basically a couple without the title, the more you feel both warm and afraid about however this talk is going to end.
You don’t realize you’ve been holding his hand tighter, but he doesn’t say anything and you realize how protective you actually feel of Wonwoo because it doesn’t sit well with you that he seems to consider himself so small.
“It’s not… sudden. I’ve just finally gathered enough courage to ask you.”
“I’m afraid.” You throw it out there the moment you open your mouth, not sure how to tell him except to just go straight to the point.
“Of what?”
“Falling in love.” You cast your eyes down to where your hand and his are joined. “Of being attached to you.”
For a moment, the air around you seems to tense ten-fold that you’re sure you can cut through it with a knife. But when Wonwoo doesn’t say anything, you brace yourself for more honesty and continue.
“I’m… already attached to you more than I thought I could be with anyone. And it scares me sometimes. What if you leave me? I think I’d be able to cope better if you decide to end things with our current… relationship than an actual one. It scares me.”
You feel his hand letting go of yours, and you panic that he’s finally had enough, but he cups your face in his palms to calm you down, and as much as you’re anxious, you can feel yourself calming under his gaze.
“If you want me to be honest, I think I already like you more than whatever you probably feel for me.” He smiles so softly you almost cry. And when you’re about to refute his words, he gently places his finger on your lips to keep you silent. “And no, that’s not something I want to debate with you. I’m fine with liking you more. I want to like you more than you like me. Will you let me do that?”
You open your mouth to say something–anything, but nothing comes out except for your tears so you simply nod and fall into his embrace. Your tears dry up almost immediately after that, but you sniffle a little as his words echo in your mind. Wonwoo probably doesn’t know what he’s talking about, because you’ve liked him for as long as you can remember. Probably not long after you started your deal with him.
He doesn’t know how you melt every time he takes care of you. How you’d try to stay awake longer after he falls asleep after another night of passionate sex, his arm over your body and your back against his chest, just so you can pretend it’s real between you two. How you’d remind yourself that it’s not real when you wake up in his place even though you’d still drag yourself out to make breakfast for him, willing your heart to calm down when he wakes up moments later, hugging you from behind even though you tell him to move away.
You probably already love him more than he can imagine.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” You ask once you’ve calmed down, getting out of his embrace to look into his eyes.
“Nothing. Why?” He tilts his head, a little confused at the sudden change of topic.
“Let’s go on a date?” You ask shyly, though your eyes immediately cast downwards again once you realized you can’t handle looking him in the eye as you ask him this. But that’s why you missed the way his face blooms into a grin, missed the way his eyes suddenly twinkle brighter than every single star in the universe combined. “I think you promised to tell me where you buy those cookies if I go on a date with you.”
He laughs at that and throws his arms around you, so tight that it hurts a little. But you don’t say anything, happy that you’re here in his arms and a little giddy now that everything’s out of your chest.
Wonwoo pulls away and cups your face once again, then searches for something in your face before he closes his eyes and gives you the softest kiss you’ve ever experienced in your life. A promise. One that says he’s not going to leave and he’s going to try his best to remove every single doubt you have in your mind.
[✾✾✾]
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A/N 2: and for my birthday wish, hopefully i'll get to see you even once in this lifetime.
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