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impossiblepluto · 2 days ago
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@quincymorris (hello, oh my goodness, i love these tags, also ouch, you're grounded)
"You need to break the time loop. Stop trying to save me. I love you."
[This message has been played 18446744073709551615 times. Would you like to hear it again?]
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ahappydnp · 2 days ago
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Happy do you know where the Phan ship name originates? I assume it came from the fandom then was at some point acknowledged by Dan and Phil? Also why was it that they never tagged #Phan on their tumblr posts but mentioned it by name in vids? Ty x
blame user danisnotonfire
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cheers-to-you-th · 3 days ago
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Don't Play Games (my heart is too fragile)
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Pairing: Streamer!Seungcheol x Reader
Genre: Fluff, smut !MDNI!, s2f2l (kinda)
Tags: Fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, smut, Streamer!AU, former college classmate!Seungcheol, very short period of angst, slow burn
WC: 21k
Summary: Getting addicted to watching hot men play video games was definitely not on your year's bingo card. Getting addicted to watching Choi Seungcheol of all people? The idea would have been laughable.
Warnings: Smut, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (they’re dumb, you shouldn’t be: wrap it before you tap it), pet names (princess), bigdick!Seungcheol, praise, some angst, lmk if I missed anything
taglist: @christinewithluv @cherry-zip @orngejuic @duckieo
The first time you stumbled upon Seungcheol's stream, it was an accident, a shocking one at that. It was just another boring day at work, your normal podcasts weren't doing it for you- listening about murders while writing a report on "harassment" between two employees who were simply arguing gave you some ideas that would not be very HR Manager of you- so you instead decide to go on twitch, your coworker had once told you it was perfect background noise.
You clicked on the first stream in the gaming category: Val w/coups by 'everyone_woo'. The stream had opened and the face of your old college classmate filled your screen and you nearly got whiplash from the double take you did.
Apparently the aforementioned "Coups" was the former infamous president of Chi Beta Zeta, Choi Seungcheol. It makes sense, you suppose- that they'd be friends- having been in the same frat, but the idea of shy Wonwoo from Engineering and not-so-shy Seungcheol, your fellow Communications major, was a little off-putting. That is, until you remember the other thing they had in common along with the rest of CBZ: sex.
Rumors constantly circulated: who Seungcheol brought upstairs at the last party, what girl Wonwoo was seen dragging into the supply closet near the library; although you were never a part of the rumors they spread like wildfire.
You shoved those thoughts aside as you finished the report, and when the rest of the day went by quicker than normal, you reminded yourself to thank Jeonghan later.
(And you definitely maybe went home and looked up "S.coups" on your computer before deciding his gravelly voice would be your new favorite white noise machine.)
Soon enough listening to him had become a habit; you were working? He was raging over a new fps he was trying; you were cleaning the house? He and Wonwoo were trying a new game pre-release. 
On Wednesdays you, Minghao, and Jeonghan have a tradition: the three of you meet at a whole-in-the-wall cafe to gossip catch up with each other outside of work-talk.  It started back in college, an agreement to always meet in the middle of the week for a break from everything—stress, assignments, life. Even now, years later, with jobs and responsibilities pulling you in different directions, Wednesdays remained sacred.
Today the three of you find yourselves in the same dimly lit restaurant you’ve all sworn by for years. It’s not anything fancy, but its quiet, comfortable, and, most importantly, they have a bartender who never questions the amount of time you all spend loitering at a table long after the food is gone.
Minghao is already there when you arrive, scrolling through his phone with the slight air of disinterest he always carried. Jeonghan shows up moments later, his usual carefree smile in place as he slid into the seat across from you.
“You’re late,” you tease, setting down your bag.
Jeonghan waves a hand dismissively. “Traffic.”
Minghao snorts, locking his phone. “We chose this place because it’s closer to your office so you can walk here.”
“Exactly,” Jeonghan says, grinning. “Too many people in my way.”
You roll your eyes but let it slide, already used to his antics. The three of you order your usuals, conversation flowing easily between catching up on work drama and not-work drama. It’s comfortable, familiar.
Then, as if on cue, Jeonghan’s eyes gleam with mischief, and you know what is coming before he even opens his mouth. “So,” he starts, resting his chin on his hand, “how’s our favorite Twitch streamer?”
You groan. “We’re not doing this.”
“Oh, we absolutely are,” Jeonghan counters. “Minghao, did you know our dear friend here has been religiously listening to Choi Seungcheol rage at video games?”
Minghao raises a brow, intrigued. “Seungcheol? That Seungcheol?”
You huff, sinking into your seat. “It’s just background noise. I put it on while I work.”
Jeonghan’s smirk widens at your dismissal. “Sure. Background noise. Because out of all the streams in the world, you just happened to choose your old college classmate’s?”
Minghao, ever observant, takes a sip of his drink before adding, “You know, he mentioned you a couple times.”
You blink. “What?”
Jeonghan nods enthusiastically. “Oh yeah. Back in CBZ, there was a few months where all he could talk about was you. He thought you were cute and would get really annoyed when you brushed him off. It was super funny seeing him finally get rejected, even if it was just because you were too oblivious to notice him flirting with you.”
“Dense,” Minghao supplies. “That was the word he used.”
You roll your eyes at them, “I wasn’t dense or oblivious, I don’t even remember talking to him for more than ten seconds. I was too focused on trying to graduate, plus he wasn’t my type.”
“Suuuuuure.” Jeonghan leers, “That’s why you listen to his voice on a daily basis now. Regret some things?”
You don’t roll your eyes at him, focusing intently on your drink as you swirl the liquid in your glass. “Whatever, I just thought it was more interesting to listen to someone I kind of knew instead of some random person.”
Jeonghan and Minghao exchange a look that makes it clear this conversation is far from over, but, mercifully, they let it go—for now.
A week later they grill you about Seungcheol one more time before finally deciding to let it go, thinking finally you can live in peace. 
That’s why you’re almost having a heart attack as you exit the elevator to see the very man of your dreams standing outside the apartment adjacent to yours, moving boxes in hand. Frozen, you stand there gawking looking at him. As if he can feel your gaze, Seungcheol looks over at you and raises an eyebrow in question, looking borderline nervous and irritated. It broke whatever trance you were in as you introduced yourself (trying your best not to stutter) as a former classmate. He visibly relaxed at that while his eyes lit up in recognition.
“Professor Han’s class, right? We had a study group together one time.” You nod, thinking back to how girls had glared at you during class for daring to be randomly grouped with Seungcheol. The session had gone by quickly, slipping your mind until now.
“Uh, yeah, for midterms practice I think. I’m surprised you remember.” Your response has a smile pulling at the corners of his (annoyingly perfect) lips.
“Hard to forget such a pretty face.”
His words cause your eyes to roll, some things never change you suppose. You hum in response, “Except when I first came up here and you looked like I had insulted your entire bloodline or something.” 
Seungcheol’s smile, you decide, is your favorite sight. His eyes crinkle at the sides, the cutest dimples form on his cheeks when his lips curl upwards, a chuckle escaping them. “Sorry, I just thought- it doesn’t matter. It was really good seeing you again though.” A matching smile on your face, you offer to help him with any boxes but he only shakes his head.
“I was taught to never let a lady carry her own things, carrying mine? Unheard of. Although if you want to cheer me on I wouldn’t mind seeing your face more.” He winks and you just shake your head, ignoring the heat rising to your cheeks. You respond with something about outdated views before excusing yourself to the safety of your apartment, taking a deep breath to calm your racing heart.
Over the next few weeks, the two bump into each other frequently; exiting your apartments, entering the complex; each time briefly chatting before going your separate ways. Some nights you would get a notification about a stream, only to hear him talking through your bedroom wall. Part of you felt bad watching him play, guilt gnawing away at your thoughts and distracting you. 
It’s fine you tell yourself as you write the marketing team’s monthly performance report.
It’s fine you delude yourself as you hand said report to your deskmate, Minghao, to review.
It’s fi-shit you finally are snapped out of your denial when Minghao hands your report back covered in red pen marks and shame. He says your name with concern lacing his voice, “Have you been doing okay? You seem kind of… off and I’ve never seen this kind of work from you before.” 
You shake your head, burying your face in your hands, “Sorry Hao, it’s nothing I can’t handle.” 
He just tilts his head and tells you that, if you ever need to talk, he’s here. That was the downside of working with your best friend– you could never hide anything from him. Normally you’d take him up on the offer- tell him your woes and such- if it wasn’t so goddamn embarrassing. You brush him off before taking a deep breath and steel yourself as you weigh your options. You could either tell Seungcheol that you watch his streams or stop watching them altogether, and you sure as hell wouldn’t be inflating his ego anymore (at least that’s the reason you tell yourself, it’s definitely not that you don’t want him to feel uncomfortable around you).
The rest of the day goes by at a torturing pace, no commentary in the background to make time fly quicker. By the time you get on the bus, you’re half-asleep, and then you’re full asleep, head lulled to the side, bouncing uncomfortably on the window, not that you notice. 
“..am? Ma’am this is the last stop. You need to get off now.” The driver of the bus stands in front of you while you rub the sleep out of your eyes and look around. Taking note of the darkness outside the window and unfamiliar street, you sigh and lean your head against the window again, flinching at your slightly bruised head. 
Could this day get any fucking better.
You apologize to the driver, who just looks at you with pity, and get off the bus, gauging your surroundings and sighing, breath fogging in front of you. Your bus stop is one of the last ones, meaning after a second you realize where you are and groan, pulling out your phone to call a car. Except of-fucking-course your phone is dead. It’s late, the watch on your wrist reading 11:56 (thank god at least something of yours is working) and look around one more time, hoping a taxi would drive by and save you from the cold night. Shoulders slumped in resignation, you start walking towards your apartment, it’s only a few blocks away, a maybe twenty minute walk, as long as your notoriously shitty sense of direction screws you over, which it does. By the time you reach your building you’re shivering, nose and fingers red as you reach into your bag for your keys. 
Keys.
Keys.
Keys that you remember setting on your desk at work but don’t remember picking up. You want to scream. And cry. Mostly cry, if you’re gonna be honest because now your shitty day turned into an even shittier night. Morning, you realize as your watch now reads 12:34. A shaky laugh escapes your lips as you slump down next to the apartment complex’s glass door that seems to taunt you, as if it's rubbing in your face how close relief is and how unreachable. 
You feel your throat start to tighten and tears begin to well in your eyes.
“Y/n?” 
You think you’re starting to go insane from the cold until a warm hand lands on your shoulder, a shadow crouching in front of you. Looking up hesitantly, you come face to face with your new neighbor, plastic bag in hand from what you assume to be a late-night snack run. The tears in your eyes start to fall as you begin to sob, if you were in your right mind this would be the most embarrassing moment of your life, but right now you’re cold and hungry and scared and this man appeared like an angel sent from heaven just to help you.
“Oh my god, you’re freezing. What are you even- nevermind that come on.” Seungcheol’s arms wrap around you as he helps you up, getting into the building with his keys and walking with you to the elevator. When it starts to ascend, Seungcheol sets his bag on the ground and takes his jacket off, wrapping it around you. You don’t even have the strength to argue with him, all of it spent on the tears that now slowed to a stop as you look down at your feet, shame starting to kick in. You don’t want to imagine the look on his face right now, knowing it’ll be the same pitying glances you’ve received all day. 
The elevator dings as it arrives on the correct floor. Your feet start moving, muscle memory kicking in until you’re at your door, realizing you still don’t have your keys. When an arm once again wraps around you, you don’t even protest, allowing Seungcheol to guide you into his apartment, where he sets blankets and pillows on his couch. When you move to lay on it, he stops you.
“What are you doing? I’m sleeping on the couch, you can take my bed.” The words seemingly bring you out of the numb trance-like state you’d been in ever since you stopped crying. 
“I- what?! No, oh my god Seungcheol no, I couldn’t- I mean you’re already doing so much for me and-” A warm hand cups touches your forehead, promptly cutting off your rambling as your frantic eyes meet Seungcheol’s warm gaze. Fuck he shouldn’t look at you like that. 
“No offense Y/n but you look like you’re on the verge of hypothermia, you need the bed more than I do.” His hand moves from your cheek to pat the top of your head as you huff, letting Seungcheol guide you to his room where. You can’t help but feel guilty as you watch him rummage through his closet before emerging with a victorious smile and a large T-shirt. 
“Wear this- before you argue,” He cuts off your protests before they can even start, “think of it as me not wanting dirty clothes on my bed and, as much as I would love to see it, you are way too cold to be sleeping in panties tonight.” 
Your face flushes as you grab the shirt he holds out to you, avoiding his gaze. “Thank you Seungcheol. Really. I’m sorry that you have to do this, but I really do appreciate it.” Glancing up at him, you watch as his teasing smirk melts into something different, softer.
“Don’t apologize. I’ll always be here if you need help with something, what are neighbors for?” walking towards the door, Seungcheol looks back at you one more time, “I normally wouldn’t let you sleep without at least having a warm bath to stop a cold, but I think you’d pass out in the shower if I tried. Get a good night’s rest, yeah? I’ll see you in the morning.” And even after he leaves the room, his warmth stays, the soft gaze he’d given you burned into your eyelids as you drift to sleep.
The scent of coffee and bacon wakes you from deep sleep. For a second, you're disoriented, the unfamiliar surroundings causing a brief panic before switching to embarrassment as memories of last night flood back. You're in Seungcheol's bed, wrapped in his sheets that smell faintly of pinewood and something uniquely him.
Sunlight streams through gaps in the curtains, painting stripes across the room. You stretch away the ache in your muscles from the cold and stress of yesterday, tugging the oversized shirt Seungcheol lent you down as you swing your legs over the side of the bed.
Your bare feet hit cool hardwood, as you shuffle towards the bedroom door, following the enticing smell of breakfast. In the kitchen, Seungcheol stands at the stove, his broad back to you.
As you approach, Seungcheol turns, spatula in hand, and flashes you a heart-stopping smile. "Morning. How are you feeling?"
You run a hand through your sleep-mussed hair, suddenly self-conscious. "Better, thanks to you. I can't believe that happened."
"Hey, don’t worry about it," he chuckles. "I figured you could use the rest. Coffee?"
You nod gratefully while he pours you a steaming mug. Seungcheol plates up eggs, bacon, and toast. The domesticity of the scene isn't lost to you - here you are, in his clothes, sharing breakfast in his kitchen. It feels dangerously intimate.
"Thanks," you murmur, accepting the plate he hands you. "You really didn't have to do all this."
Seungcheol waves off your gratitude as he settles across from you at the small kitchen table. "It's no trouble. Besides, I couldn't let you face the day on an empty stomach after last night."
You take a bite of the perfectly crispy bacon, trying not to moan at how good it tastes. As you eat in companionable silence, you can't help but sneak glances at Seungcheol. His hair is slightly mussed from sleep, a slight sleepy haze in his eyes. He looks softer like this, less like the polished streamer and more like the boy you’d seen in college.
"So," he says after a while, setting down his mug. "Want to tell me what happened last night?"
You hesitate, your fork hovering over your plate. What were you supposed to say? That you had been thinking of him non-stop for the last 24 hours? That you were a mess whose sense of direction was almost as bad as your work-life balance? That you'd been caught in what was arguably one of your worst moments, by none other than the main cause of your original turmoil?
He seems to sense your internal conflict because he leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. His tone softens, playful but not prying. "You don’t have to, y'know. I just figured you might want to talk about it. Seems like you had a long day, I won’t judge."
You sigh, feeling the weight of exhaustion creep back in. "It’s not even that interesting," you start, avoiding his eyes. " It was just... one thing after another. Fell asleep on the bus, could’t call a taxi caus’ my phone died, forgot my keys at work; Honestly, the world was conspiring against me the whole day, I swear."
Seungcheol hums thoughtfully, swirling the last of his coffee in his mug. "Sounds rough. No one likes walking around in the freezing cold with no way to get inside. It was a good thing I went out when I did, maybe it’s a sign I should take more midnight snack runs."
You laugh softly and promptly ignore the stuttering of your heart, "Hopefully it won’t happen again," you admit. "And… either way it’s not exactly something I want to bother you with."
He raises an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. "You weren’t a bother at all. Besides, I think helping you out is the bare minimum of what neighbors should do, don’t you?"
Neighbor. The word feels heavier than it should, he’s right; all you are to him is a neighbor, nothing more nothing less. You try to play off the feeling of your heart dropping into your shoes, shaking your head with a small laugh. "I have to admit, I’d never have guessed you were the knight-in-shining-armour type. At-night-in-UnderArmour maybe, but this is unexpected"
Seungcheol grins, his dimples flashing. "Hey now, don’t let the frat guy rep fool you. I’ve always been nice."
You laugh at that, the tension in your chest loosening. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."
As he rinses the dishes, you take a moment to look around his apartment. It’s cozy, a mix of modern furniture and personal touches—a stack of books on the coffee table, a framed photo of what looks like his old frat brothers on a shelf, and a ridiculous number of gaming peripherals on his desk. It suits him, you think, the same way his easy smile and annoyingly perfect hair suit him.
"So," Seungcheol says, drying his hands before turning to face you. "Any plans today? Or are you planning to crash and catch up on sleep?"
"Work," you groan, already dreading the thought of going back to the office. "I have to deal with a report I butchered yesterday."
"Rough," he says, leaning against the counter. "Tell you what—after work, if you’re up for it, I’ll make dinner. Consider it part two of my neighborly duties."
The offer catches you off guard, but you manage to nod despite the sudden flutter in your stomach. "You don’t have to keep feeding me, you know."
Seungcheol just shrugs, a teasing glint in his eye. "I know. But I want to. Plus, you owe me. You cried on my shirt last night, remember?"
Your jaw drops, heat rushing to your face as you groan. "I did not—!"
"You totally did," he interrupts with a laugh, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. "It’s okay, though. It’s a good story."
"You’d better not go spreading this around mister." you say, pointing a warning finger at him. But the smile tugging at your lips betrays you, and Seungcheol just grins wider.
"Hmm I make no promises madam."
As you gather your things and prepare to face the day, Seungcheol’s warm gaze and easy laughter lingers in your mind, making you feel giddy and guilty at the same time. And as you step out of his apartment, you realize you’re already looking forward to the evening.
The day drags on slower than you’d like, each hour feeling like an eternity between the mountain of emails, the endless meetings, and the painstakingly slow process of fixing your stupid report.
By the time you get back to your apartment (with your keys this time, thank god), exhaustion is settled deep in your bones. You drop your bag by the door and kick off your shoes, barely making it to the couch before collapsing in a heap. The thought of getting up, even to change out of your work clothes, feels like an impossible task.
A soft knock at your door jolts you out of your half-asleep state. For a split second, you consider ignoring it, but then you remember Seungcheol’s offer(demand?) from this morning. With a groan, you drag yourself up and shuffle to the door, opening it to find him standing there, a grin on his face and a grocery bag in hand.
"Thought you might be too tired to make it over," he says, holding up the bag. "So, I figured I’d bring the dinner to you."
You blink at him, caught off guard. "You… didn’t have to do that," you mumble, though the smell wafting from the bag has your stomach growling in protest.
He laughs, brushing past you into the apartment. "I know. But you seemed like you had a long day, and I wasn’t about to let you skip a proper meal. Plus, I’m not sure I trust you to make anything edible in your state."
"Hey!" you protest, following him into the kitchen. "I’m perfectly capable of cooking, thank you very much."
He raises an eyebrow, eyes scanning your kitchen clearly unconvinced. "Sure you are. When was the last time you had something that wasn’t instant ramen or takeout?"
You open your mouth to argue, but the words die on your tongue because… well, the empty takeout boxes in your kitchen speak enough. Instead, you cross your arms and huff. "Fine. You win. But only because I’m too tired to argue."
"Glad we’re on the same page," he says, already unpacking the bag and setting up in your kitchen like he owns the place. You watch as he moves with practiced ease, pulling out ingredients and utensils like he’s done this a million times before.
It’s oddly comforting, watching him work. The kitchen feels warmer, cozier, with him in it. You find yourself leaning against the counter, a small smile tugging at your lips as he chats about his day—about how his coworker accidentally sent an email to the entire company, or how he nearly slipped on ice outside his building.
Before you know it, the smell of something delicious fills the air, and your stomach growls loudly, earning a laugh from Seungcheol.
"I guess you’re hungry," he teases, sliding a plate in front of you. 
You roll your eyes but can’t hide your grin as you pick up your fork. "If this is bad, I’m never letting you live it down."
He smirks, leaning against the counter as he watches you take your first bite. The flavors hit your tongue, and you can’t help the satisfied hum that escapes you.
"Okay, fine," you admit, reluctantly. "This is… not bad."
"Sure, not bad. Dare you say good?" he says, his grin widening. "You’re welcome, by the way."
The two of you eat together, the conversation flowing easily. It’s light and playful, with just the right amount of teasing to keep you on your toes. By the time the plates are empty, you realize you’re smiling more than you have in days.
As he helps you clean up, you find yourself glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. There’s something about the way he moves, the way he laughs, that makes your chest feel a little too tight and your thoughts a little too scattered.
"Thanks for this," you say softly as he dries the last plate. "I really needed it."
He looks at you, his expression softening. "Anytime," he says simply. "That’s what neighbors are for, right?"
Neighbor. There it is again, that word. But this time, it doesn’t feel as heavy. Because maybe, just maybe, it’s not about what you are to each other now, but about what you could be.
A few days pass in a blurry haze. Seungcheol’s number was now saved in your phone, his occasional texts making you more giddy than you’d like to admit. The two of you occasionally see each other in the hallway, tonight he knocks on your door with food in hand, claiming he made too much and offering you some. You invite him in to share the meal (you’re just being a good neighbor), laughing and joking around as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And honestly, it kind of was. 
Seungcheol insists on brewing you a cup of tea before he leaves, claiming it’s the perfect way to wind down after a long day. You let him, mostly because you’re too tired to argue but also because, well… It's nice having him here.
He chats while the kettle heats up, leaning casually against the counter like he belongs in your kitchen. The way he speaks, the rhythm of his voice, fills the quiet space in a way that feels natural—like he’s not just filling silence but adding something to it.
When he hands you the steaming mug, his fingers brush yours briefly, and you try not to overthink the spark of warmth that lingers long after he pulls away.
"So, any big plans tomorrow?" he asks, settling into a chair at your kitchen table. It feels oddly domestic, like this is something the two of you do all the time. You shake your head, cradling the mug in your hands. "Just work. Again. Though I’m praying for fewer disasters this time."
He chuckles, resting his chin in his hand as he looks at you. "Sounds like you could use a break. Maybe take the weekend off, do something fun."
You snort softly. “Like what, go clubbing or something? Not really my vibe."
"Doesn’t have to be that extreme," he says, grinning. "It could be something simple. A walk in the park, binge-watching a terrible reality show, or trying out that café down the street you keep mentioning but never go to."
You raise an eyebrow at him. "Are you suggesting I take myself on a date?"
"Hey, self-care is important," he says with a shrug, though the teasing glint in his eye suggests he’s enjoying himself. "But if you need a plus-one, I might be available."
The words hang in the air for a moment, and you’re not entirely sure how to respond. Is he joking? Probably. But there’s a softness in his expression that makes you wonder if there’s more to it than that.
"I’ll think about it," you say finally, trying to sound casual. "But don’t get your hopes up, Cheol. I’m not easy to impress."
He smirks, leaning back in his chair. "So it’s Cheol now, huh? Don’t apologize- I like it." he once again practically reads your thoughts, “And here, once you’re done thinking, let me know, yeah? Or in case you get locked out again.” Seungcheol slides over his phone with a new contact open as you roll your eyes, typing your number in anyways.
It’s late by the time he finally leaves, the mug you used now washed and drying on the counter. As you close the door behind him, your apartment feels quieter than it did before. Not in a bad way— the kind of quiet that lets you think. You find yourself replaying the evening in your head: his laugh, the way he somehow managed to turn your chaotic kitchen into a space that felt warm and inviting, the way his gaze didn’t leave you once when the two of you talked.
Shaking your head, you force yourself to focus on getting ready for bed. It’s nothing, you tell yourself. He’s probably just trying to make some new friends in the neighborhood.
But as you crawl under the covers, your mind drifts back to his earlier word, "If you need a plus-one, I might be available." The thought lingers, a soft thread of warmth that wraps around your chest as you grab your phone, typing a message before you can change your mind. Your fingers hover over the screen for a moment before you close your eyes and press send.
You: So how about that date?
The text felt heavier as the three little dots that blink back at you in reply. You hold your breath, heartbeat thudding in your ears.
When his text pops up on your phone, a shy smile automatically spreads across your face as you read it.
Seungcheol: How about Saturday?
Seungcheol: I’ll plan it—just be ready by 10.
The squeal you let out could rival one of a teenage girl on her first date as you kick your feet giddily in bed. Fuck, you were already down so bad. When you hear a chuckle through the wall your phone drops to the floor with a thud as it buzzes again..
Seungcheol: Careful, I might start to hope you’re looking forward to seeing me
This arrogant correct motherfucker. Your fingers type a quick response, trying to save whatever dignity you have left.
You: Saw a spider
You: Anyways where should I meet you?
His response makes your eyes roll with endearment annoyance.
Seungcheol: I think your memories are getting mixed up, spider was what everyone called Hoshi, not me. And no spoilers, just dress comfortably.
Two days later, Saturday morning rolls around, and you’re standing in front of your mirror, staring at your outfit for the third time. He said casual, so why are you frantically searching for the perfect attire? 
It’s fine, you think, not over the top. He doesn’t know what your closet looks like anyways, for all he knows you always wear this kind of clothes.
Your cozy beige sweater is paired with jeans and ankle boots, casual but still nice. Your makeup is light, natural. 
A knock on your door makes your heart jolt. Grabbing your bag, you take a steadying breath before opening it.
Seungcheol stands there, hands casually tucked in his jacket pocket, a grin already spreading across his face. His eyes flick up and down your body once, twice, hitching in some areas before finally settling on your eyes.
“You-” He clears his throat, “You look really good.” His eyes flick away from yours briefly, you swear you hear him mutter something along the lines of too good but it must be your imagination, flustered by how the man in front of you seems almost shy.
“Thanks,” you reply, giving him a similar once over to the one he’d subjected you to earlier. 
Black cargo pants with a dark denim jacket (that somehow looks warm) over a white graphic T. The outfit might look sloppy on someone else, but Seungcheol makes it look like he should be on a runway, the clothes draping over him perfectly as though everything was custom-made for him. 
“You don’t look half bad yourself.”
“You really are hard to impress huh?” he teases. “Lucky for you I’m always happy to deliver. Ready to go?”
The two of you walk to the parking outside as you chat, getting into his annoyingly nice car. You can’t help but wonder where he’s taking you as the roads out the window blur. No matter how hard you try to pry the information out of him, he doesn’t budge. A lesson in patience, he tells you. When the car finally stops, you look around, surprised– an amusement park.
“Seriously?” you ask, poorly trying to hide your smile as you stare at him.
“What? Too childish for you princess?” he says with a sly grin. You just hum in faux indignation, giving up on any attempt at hiding your smile.
The park is alive with bright lights, lively music; the smell of popcorn and funnel cakes wafting through the chilly air. You wander through the attractions, playing a few games and riding the tamer rides to start. At one of the stands, Seungcheol picks up two pairs of animal ears, holding them where you can’t see. 
“Pick a side.” he states with a sparkle in his eyes, hands behind his back.
You roll your eyes at his antics and do as he asks.
“Good choice,” he said, handing you a pair of floppy bunny ears, putting the other set- wolf ears- on his own head. “How do I look?”
You snort. “Ridiculous.”
“Come on princess, I think yours suit you perfectly,” he teased, tugging gently on one of the ears now perched on your head. He drags you over to one of the photo-booths scattered around the park and pulls you inside as you laugh.
His arm is wrapped around you, who instinctively leans into his shoulder as the screen counts down. After some more silly shots, the last timer runs on the screen. The two of you are posing when you impulsively turn your head and press a kiss to his cheek as the flash goes off. Before you can try and see Seungcheols expression you quickly get out of the booth, crouching down to wait for the photos to print. A shadow surrounds you but you ignore it, grabbing the two photo stips and standing up, actively avoiding looking at the man behind you until you feel strong arms circle around your waist.
“Don’t get shy on me now, princess.” Seungcheol’s voice is low and quiet, his breath tickling you neck. He gently turns you around in his arms, forcing you to face him. When you do, you can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips.
His eyebrows raise, expression soft and questioning as you raise your hand to his cheek. “You’ve uh.. Got a little something on here.” Before you can wipe off the lipstick mark a hand grabbing your wrist stops you. Seungcheol just hums, the smile on his face growing as he responds. “Leave it there, I like it.”
You look away, flustered, “It might stain.”
His smile only grows further as his hands squeeze your waist reassuringly, “Even better.”
A few more hours fly by in a blur of laughter, shared glances, and the occasional screaming as you ride a roller coaster. As the day winds down, Seungcheol leads you toward the Ferris wheel.
“Ending with a Ferris wheel ride at sunset huh?” you tease with a smirk. “Classic.”
He chuckles. “You’re smiling, so I think it’s worth being cheesy.”
Your face flushes as you step into the car with him, the soft glow of the park lights casting everything in a dreamy haze. As the wheel lifts you higher, you take in the moment—simple, sweet, and perfect.
The car sways gently as it begins to ascend, the world growing smaller beneath your feet. Seungcheol leans back in the seat across from you, his arm casually draped across the edge, as though the intimacy of the situation didn’t seem to bother him at all. Meanwhile, your heart is racing, the memories of the day making it difficult to keep your composure as you keep your eyes trained on the park as it gets smaller and smaller.
“Nice view,” the man across from you murmurs. When you sneak a glance at him, his eyes aren’t on the horizon—they’re focused on you, his soft expression making your breath hitch.
You bite the inside of your cheek, turning to face the window again. “Yeah, it’s beautiful,” you agree, your voice coming out shakier than intended. The warmth of the sunset casts a golden glow across the park below, lights beginning to twinkle as the day faded.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Seungcheol shift slightly closer. “You’ve been smiling all day,” he comments. “Do I get some credit for that, or was it just the funnel cakes?”
You laugh, turning back to meet his gaze. “Oh definitely the funnel cake, But you’re decent company too, I guess.”
He grins, leaning forward just slightly. “Decent? Come on, you can do better than that.”
You raise a brow, trying to hold your ground despite how his closeness makes you feel like melting into the seat. “Don’t push your luck.”
For a moment, there’s nothing but the distant hum of the park and the creak of the Ferris wheel as it carries you higher. His expression softens, and he tilts his head slightly, as though weighing his next words carefully. “You know,” he starts, his voice low, “I wasn’t kidding when I said I hoped you were looking forward to seeing me.”
Your breath catches, and you search his face for any trace of teasing, but his expression is nothing but sincerity with a tinge of nervousness. “Maybe I was,” you admit quietly.
His smile widens, dimples returning with full force as the confidence that had momentarily wavered in his eyes returns. “I’m glad. Maybe I was hoping to see you too.”
The car comes to a stop at the top of the wheel, leaving the two of you suspended in the sky. The view is breathtaking, but all you can focus on is the way Seungcheol’s eyes shine, on the curve of his nose, where your lips are stamped on his cheek, how soft and welcoming his own lips look. His fingers brush your own and your heart is pounding so loudly you’re sure he can hear it.
“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice smooth and steady, as if sensing your hesitation.
You nod, your gaze flicking between his eyes and the hand now gently covering yours. “Yeah. Just… you make me nervous.” As soon as the words leave your mouth you want to jump out of the ferris wheel.
He chuckles softly, the sound halting your thoughts. “Ditto.” he remarks and you swear your heart stops as he leans closer, his voice barely above a whisper. His face is inches from yours, the space between you charged with tension. You could feel the warmth of his breath mixing with your own, the weight of his presence grounding you and making your head spin all at once.
And then, as though the universe decided it hated you, the car jolts slightly, the Ferris wheel beginning its descent. The tension clears, and you both laugh as it dissolves into something softer and more familiar. When you both reach the ground, Seungcheol offers you a hand as you step out of the gondola, not letting go until the two of you reach his car. 
Seungcheol opens the passenger door for you, his hand lingering on the frame as you step in. He waits until you’re settled, closing the door with a gentle thud before walking around to the driver’s side. As he slides into the seat, the soft click of the doors locking echoes in the quiet night.
The drive home is comfortable, the radio humming a mellow tune as the city lights streak past the windows. Neither of you speak much, but for once you don’t mind the silence, it’s comfortable, as if the events of the day are still settling in your minds. 
When the two of you finally arrive at your adjacent apartments, he turns to look at you.
“So,” he begins, his voice carrying that familiar teasing lilt, “did I live up to your standards of being ‘decent company’?”
You roll your eyes, biting back a grin. “I guess you weren’t terrible,” you reply, feigning nonchalance.
He chuckles, shaking his head as he leans against the wall. “I’ll take it. Progress is progress.”
The silence that follows isn’t awkward—it’s heavy with the weight of the day, the laughter, the quiet moments, and the words that neither of you seems quite ready to say.
“Well,” you finally say, your hand moving to the door handle, “thanks for today. I really needed it.”
Seungcheol doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out the photo strip from earlier at the amusement park. He holds it out to you, his fingers brushing yours when you take it.
You glance down at the photos—the silly poses, the bunny ears, the surprised look on his face as you kissed his cheek—and your chest tightens in the best way possible. “Thanks,” you murmur, your voice almost lost in the stillness.
When you look back up, he’s watching you, his expression unreadable. He shifts, fingers lightly grazing yours.
“Hey,” he says quietly, his voice steadier than you feel. “If you’re up for it… we should do this again sometime.”
Your breath catches, and for a moment, all you can do is nod. “Yeah,” you manage, your voice soft. “I’d like that too.”
His smile grows, and for a split second, you think he might lean in, but instead, he squeezes your hand gently before pulling back. “Get some rest.” he says, his tone light but his eyes lingering on yours.
As you open your door, the apartment inside feels emptier than normal. You pause, glancing back at Seungcheol.
“Text me when you’re free,” he says, his grin now fully teasing. “Or, you know, just knock on the wall or something.”
You laugh, shaking your head as you softly close the door. Your heart races as you lean against it, the photo strip still clutched in your hand. You glance down at the images, your smile widening as you run your thumb over the glossy surface.
You were screwed—completely and utterly fucked—but for the first time in a long while, you didn’t mind one bit.
Jeonghan is late again, you’d think he’d learn to use his time better on Wednesdays but some things never change, you suppose. You sit across from Hao, sipping on your coffee as he eyes you suspiciously.
“So,” he begins, placing his tea on the table, his voice carrying that signature teasing lilt. “You went on a date.”
You nearly choke, coughing into your hand as you set your drink down. “Excuse me? How do you know that?”
He just smirks, leaning back in his chair with an air of triumph. “I was just guessing but you just confirmed it.”
Your jaw drops at his audacity. “That’s not fair—you tricked me!”
“Hardly,” he replies, stirring his tea with mock innocence. “You’re just too easy to read. So was it good?”
Before you can fire back, a familiar voice cuts in, smooth and teasing. “What’s this about a date?”
You turn to see Jeonghan strolling toward your table, his blazer slung over one shoulder and his hair annoyingly perfect, as if he’d stepped out of a magazine, not his office. He grins as he pulls out a chair to join you.
“Oh, great,” you mutter, sinking into your seat. “Now it’s both of you.”
Jeonghan raises a brow, clearly delighted. “Both of us? This sounds like a story. Go on, I’m listening.”
Minghao smirks, pointing at you with his spoon. “She went on a date.”
“Stop saying it like that,” you shoot back, narrowing your eyes at him.
Jeonghan’s eyes light up as he leans forward, resting his chin in his hand. “Ooh, let me guess, the new neighbor you told us about?”
You sigh, knowing you’re outnumbered. “Okay, okay fine. Yes, with the neighbor, and it was nice. That’s all you’re getting.”
“Nice?” Jeonghan repeats, feigning disappointment. “That’s all? Come on, you can do better than that. You haven’t been on a date in god-knows how long and all you can say is ‘nice’?”
“Why are you even here?” you snap, though you couldn’t help the laugh that slipped through.
Minghao tilts his head thoughtfully. “Was it ‘okay’ good or ‘planning another date’ good?”
“I’m betting it’s the second one.” Jeonghan said, his voice lilting. 
You groaned, dropping your face into your hands. “Why do I tell either of you anything?”
Jeonghan flashes his signature cheshire smile, nudging your arm. “Because we’re your favorite. Now, come on. Was there a spark? A magical moment? Did you trip over something and land in his arms? Don’t leave us hanging.”
“Nothing like that, you dork.” you respond, trying to hide your smile but failing miserably. “It was just... fun. Exciting. Better than I thought it would be.” Jeonghan and Minghao exchange a look, one of those silent, unspoken conversations that only the three of you could understand.
“Definitely planning date two,” Minghao says, deadpan.
You groan again, but the warmth of their teasing—playful and supportive—makes it impossible to be annoyed. “I hate you guys,” you mumble, though your laugh gives you away.
“And yet,” Jeonghan teases, raising an imaginary glass, “you keep us around. To your nice, hot neighbor for finally getting you out of your apartment!”
Minghao raises his tea to join in. “Cheers to that.”
Rolling your eyes, you clink your mug against theirs. “You’re both insufferable.”
“For sure,” Minghao says with a smile, “that’s why you love us.”
Weeks pass in a blur of updating your nosy friends and texting Seungcheol, soon enough you find yourself looking forward to his messages, giddy feelings replaced with warmth and comfort. The banter is light but always at the edge of something more lingering between every word.
Cheol: So u finally going to admit that you miss me?You: I don’t wanna lie to you Cheol.Cheol: You say that now, but wait until this weekend. You’ll be begging for more.You: Oh? What if I have plans this weekend? You know, being busy and all that.Cheol: Then I guess I’ll have to cancel my dinner reservations :(You: We can't have that can we?
The next message is an address and the words: 7pm
Saturday evening comes faster than you expected, and when you glance at the clock, the realization hits that you’re running behind. You rush to get ready, a mix of excitement and nerves churning in your stomach as you pick out an outfit matching the nice restaurant Seungcheol had sent you. You want to show him a side of yourself that’s more than you coming home or leaving for work.
You choose a dark red dress that hugs your curves in all the right places. The neckline dips just low enough, an elegant slit running up the side. Paired with black heels and a sleek necklace dangling almost dangerously low, it feels just right. You spend a little extra time on makeup, defining each feature and topping it off with a red lip that matches your dress. By the time you’re finished, you feel more confident than you have in a while.
A knock at your door sends a rush of adrenaline through your veins.You check the mirror one last time before stepping toward the door, trying to keep your composure.
When the door opens Seungcheol just stands there for a second, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. The intensity of the gaze almost has you feeling self-conscious, until you see the way his eyes take on a slightly glazed quality instead of the usual teasing glint.
“Damn,” he finally breathes out, his voice low and shaky. “You look… wow.”
You bite back your smile, feeling your cheeks heat up at his gaze. “Thanks,” you say, trying to act nonchalant, but failing miserably.
He steps closer, his gaze still lingering on you, and you can almost feel magnetic pull in the space between you. “I… ” His eyes flick down to your heels and then back up to your face, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “I might need to take a second to adjust.”
You chuckle, feeling the warmth of his hands burning your hips through the fabric of your dress, “Well, would you look at that? Choi Seungcheol is actually tongue-tied.”
Seungcheol’s grin widens, “How could I not be speechless when you look like that?”, he asks before taking your hand and leading you to his car. The ride is short, but this time, it feels different. The air between you is thick with anticipation, neither of you speaking much—words feel unnecessary when the moment speaks for itself.
When you arrive at the restaurant, the valet greets Seungcheol like an old friend, and you can’t help but notice the way he carries himself—confident, composed, like he belongs in this world. He guides you through the entrance, a small smile on his face as gently takes your hand.
The restaurant has an air of quiet elegance, the kind that feels effortlessly luxurious. The lighting is soft, casting a golden glow on the crisp white table-cloths, the flickering candlelight adding a comforting warmth. The faint murmur of conversation fills the background, but you feel as if the two of you are in your own little world.
Seungcheol pulls your chair out for you as you sit, and you can't help but feel a little overwhelmed by how natural he makes everything feel, despite the grandeur of the setting. You settle into your seat, your hand instinctively resting on the edge of the table, your fingers brushing the silverware as you glance around. The atmosphere is luxurious, yes, but there’s something reassuring about the way Seungcheol carries himself, like he’s right at home here.
Once the menus are set in front of you, Seungcheol doesn’t hesitate. He scans the offerings with a casual air but glances over at you as you study the menu in your hands. "Don't let the fancy setting fool you. The food here is surprisingly good. I’ve been here more than once.” he says, his voice smooth and low, the confidence he carries in all things evident in the casual mention.
You chuckle, glancing up at him. “Take a lot of your dates here, do you?”
Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, that signature smirk tugging at his lips. “Only one.” 
You can’t help the shy smile that spreads across your face, “Who would have known you’re secretly a softy.”
He leans forward slightly, lowering his voice as though sharing a secret. “I’ve got layers, princess. Lots of layers.”
The way he says it, so effortlessly confident, causes your stomach to flutter a lot little. You take a sip of your water, trying not to let him see how much he’s affecting you. “I’m sure. I bet you’re the life of the party at places like this.”
Seungcheol smirks and leans back in his chair, clearly pleased with your reaction. “I can be. But I also know when to appreciate the quiet nights. Sometimes it’s better to enjoy the little things.” His gaze shifts to meet yours then, a quiet intensity in his eyes. It’s a subtle change, but one that makes your heart race.
You swallow, suddenly acutely aware of his gaze. You glance at the menu again, though you haven’t truly registered anything on it. “I’ll take your word for it,” you manage, trying to keep your voice steady.
When the waiter returns to take your order, Seungcheol speaks for both of you, his choices seemingly effortless. You take the time to fully appreciate the man in front of you; the way his red tie is the same hue as your dress, how his white button up stretches across his chest giving an outline of a fit physique further supported in the way his sleeves strain against his arms. 
Seungcheol clears his throat, and you realize you’ve been caught red-handed, so you decide to just shrug because yeah, he’s hot. There’s something more serious about the way Seungcheol watches you now, his eyes tracing the curve of your neck, the way the candlelight plays in your hair. It’s as if the energy in the room has shifted, becoming a little more personal.
“I have to admit,” he says after a long pause, his voice softer than before, “I’m having a really good time.”
You laugh, but it’s not from nervousness. It’s a genuine sound. “You’ve been teasing me nonstop for days. I’d hope you at least had a good time after all that hard work.”
His lips curve into that familiar teasing smile. “I’ve been doing more than teasing. You just don’t realize it yet.” He tilts his head slightly. “I’m glad you came, though. Really.”
The words, simple as they are, catch you off guard. It’s one thing for him to be flirty, but for him to show this side of him, this quiet sincerity... you weren’t prepared for it.
Before you can respond, the drinks arrive—a crisp white wine for you, a rich red for him. The clink of glass as it’s set on the table draws you back into the moment. Seungcheol raises his glass, his eyes locked on yours. "To good company," he says, his tone earnest but playful.
You smile and clink your glass against his, the material cool against your fingers. “To good company,” you repeat, your voice just as soft.
The conversation flows easy after that, not forced, but natural. He talks about his favorite restaurants, his travels, and how he’s surprisingly fond of quiet nights. You find yourself opening up more than you intended, sharing stories about your childhood, what drives you, what you love most about your work. He listens intently, his gaze never wavering, his attention fully on you. As if every word matters to him, every sentence is important.
It’s hard not to notice how his gaze shifts from playful to something more thoughtful as you speak, his eyes locking on yours with an unreadable emotion that makes your breath catch every time. You don’t want to admit it, but his attention feels like a constant pull on your thoughts, something that you can’t seem to escape.
When your meal arrives, the soft clink of silverware against the fine china is the only sound for a moment. You both pause, then Seungcheol leans back slightly, eyeing your plate with a mischievous grin. “You’re not going to finish that, are you?” he teases. “I’ll be happy to help.”
You raise an eyebrow, shooting him a playful glance. “I think I’ll manage just fine.”
The two of you laugh easily over the shared dish, the comfortable intimacy of it all settling around you like a familiar blanket. It’s rare to feel so at ease with someone in this kind of setting, but with Seungcheol, it’s effortless.
At some point during dessert, Seungcheol reaches across the table and gently runs his thumb along your hand. The motion is slow, deliberate, and for the first time, he’s not teasing. His touch is softer, and his eyes—god those eyes—hold a sincerity that has you feeling like you’re the only person in the room–in the whole world even.
“You know,” he murmurs, “I’m really glad you agreed to come out with me tonight.”
You hum, feeling a flutter deep in your chest. “So you’ve mentioned.” 
After a moment you respond again, “I am too.”
You both sit in silence for a moment, the tension between you now wrapping around your mind and dulling the outside world. The soft clink of glasses, the quiet hum of the restaurant, the distant murmur of conversations... it all fades into the background.
Finally, after a long moment of simply looking at each other, Seungcheol stands and walks around to your side of the table, offering his hand. “Let’s go,” he says, his voice low but steady.
By the time you’re at the door to your apartment, the tension between the two of you is almost suffocating. You invite him inside, and Seungcheol takes a deep breath, “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. I don’t think I’ll be able to hold myself back.”
And when you lean close to his ear and tell him then don’t, it’s like floodgates open. Seungcheol shuts the door behind him, crowding you against it as he leans close to you, hands finding your hips and breath warm against your ear. “Do you even know what you’ve been doing to me all night?” he asks, voice so low it's almost a growl.
You smile, hands trailing up his torso to wrap around his neck, “I guess I clean up well.”
Seungcheol chuckles darkly, experimentally squeezing your hips,  “Too bad I’m gonna get you all dirty again.”
When he tilts your chin up to meet his lips, you expect the kiss to be hungry, as desperate as he has you feeling, instead Seungcheol kisses you slowly, tenderly with a sweetness rivaling ambrosia. Your arms wind themselves around his neck, pressing yourself harder against him as if even a second apart would be painful because, quite frankly, that’s how kissing him felt. He takes his time to savor each brush of your lips on his, each sigh that you breathe into his mouth.
Seungcheol looks absolutely ruined. His pupils are blown out, hair messy with your hands in it and red lipstick smeared on his swollen lips. You’re sure you don’t look much different, as the two of you crash back together at the same time. This kiss is how you expected the first to be, hungry, desperate, and hard.
Even when your lungs burn for air your lips chase after him when he separates from you, pupils blown out, hair messy, your lipstick smeared across his mouth, Seungcheol looks absolutely ruined. 
The only thing you can hear is breathlessness before you’re tangling your fingers into his hair to crash your lips together again. Seungcheol presses into even more, hands pushing against your door as he intoxicates you once more. The kiss isn’t soft this time, lust taking over and pulling the two of you into each other. His hand moves to your jaw, switching the angle and taking away any last bit of brain function you have because even when kissing you with such passion Seungcheol still isn’t rough with you. He kisses you with a confidence and control that has you whimpering into his lips.
The sound clearly affects him, his tongue prodding at your lips and a small breath leaving him when you open your mouth further. He starts exploring your mouth as his hands move to explore your body, sliding up and down your waist to your thighs, where he squeezes before lifting you up seemingly effortlessly. 
“Your room?” Seungcheol murmurs into your mouth. You break apart from him once again, hands on either side of his face, forehead resting against his. “Same layout as your apartment.” You recall, resuming the kiss once more as he carries you over to your bed, gently setting you down on the edge.
He drinks the breathy sound that leaves your mouth when his fingers find the zipper on your back, slowly drawing it down and caressing each new plane of skin revealed to him. You lift your hips, helping him get the dress fully off your body and thrown somewhere on the floor. You try to pull him in closer to you but Seungcheol is frozen. You wiggle impatiently and he just shakes his head at you, a breathy laugh leaving his kiss swollen lips.
“Be patient baby, let me appreciate you, fuck.” The last word comes from a deep place in his chest, an almost guttural sound as his hands gently trace up your legs, hips, waist, settling just below your dark red lace bra that matches your now discarded dress. He looks at you with an awe equal to that of meeting a deity, as if he’d never seen anything more captivating and never will in this lifetime. His gaze makes you flush because you’re just you, sure you put on a pretty matching set but even then you didn’t think he’d be this into it. You apparently verbalize your thoughts unintentionally because Seungcheol looks up at you once more, this time gaze filled with disbelief.
“Just you? Just you? God, you really don’t know how beautiful you are, do you, princess?” The nickname causes a shiver to go down your spine, his hands gently as they move behind you, unclipping your bra. “So perfect, so pretty for me.” His words are accompanied by his hands slowly massaging your now bare chest before he dives into you, mouth ravishing every inch on your skin as he pulls sounds from you. Your fingers find their way to his hair, tugging when he nips at your skin. After thoroughly stealing your breath his lips start making their way down to where you need him most. His nose presses against your core causing an embarrassingly depraved whimper to leave you.
“Fuck princess, you’re so ready for me,” he says as he pulls your panties away from your body, holding them up for you to see the ruined fabric. You don’t have time to think about them as he starts to leave hot open mouthed kisses on your inner thigh before dipping his tongue ever so slightly into your weeping hole. Your hands tug slightly on his hair and seemingly break whatever resolve he has as he starts to devour you. He knows exactly when to slow down, licking your cunt up and sucking in ways that have your head spinning. Your insides clench around nothing, leaking arousal as his lips wrap around your clit. He drinks all of your juices, his tongue collecting your wetness like water. 
When he focuses his tongue on your hole, prodding timidly inside you as your walls beg to be stretched, your hands tug harshly at his hair, making him moan right into your cunt, as if he’s enjoying the pull of his hair as you use him for your pleasure. Your orgasm approaches at the speed of light, quicker than you’d ever thought a man could pull from you.
You spasm with each swipe of his tongue that gets faster as he notices how close you are. When he decides to focus on teasing your clit, something snaps in you and you come undone on his tongue. 
He practically makes out with your cunt, stretching out your orgasm and making your legs tremble at his sides. You can feel the big smirk across his lips through your pleasure-induced haze. He doesn’t move away even when you start to feel over stimulated, you tug on his hair.
“You can give me one more, right princess?” He looks like something straight out of a porno, mouth covered in you, hair messy between your fingers, how could you possibly resist such a sight, especially when his finger runs up and down your entrance teasingly.
“Please” is all you have to say before he disappears once more between your legs. His fingers start to stretch out your walls, tongue lapping up any juices that escape. The pounding of his fingers inside you drag you close to the edge faster than before, and when his fingers graze one spot you’re seeing stars.
“There, right there fuck Cheol please–” your words get cut off by a breathy moan as he sucks on your clit, vision going blurry as you come on his fingers. When you’re coming down from the high, you watch as he takes said fingers and licks them clean with a groan, “You might just be my new favorite meal, princess.”
Your eyes roll at the comments as you shakily climb to your knees, earning a raised eyebrow from Cheol as you grab his shirt to pull him towards you, “You’re looking way too clothed to be saying that right now.” You mutter, making quick work of his buttons. His laugh turns into a groan when you press a kiss to his neck, sliding his shirt off of him and running your hands across the expanse of his torso. His muscles are firm and defined, and you don’t resist the urge to bend over and softly bite his chest, reveling in the choked sound he makes. His hands grab your head, pulling you into a wet kiss as you pull at his pants and boxers, sliding them down his legs to free his hard cock. As you look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, long, thick, deliciously curved, this man will be the end of you. 
Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips. A whimper escapes you, and Seungcheol hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, princess. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he thrusts his hips up, causing your movements to stutter as you gag. “You can take a bit more, yeah?” his question ends with a groan, his fingers tightening on your hair. 
You lower your head further in response, taking in another more of him. His hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair.
“Fuck, just like that baby, want you to choke on it,” his voice is gravely and low, the sound going straight to your core. The tip of his cock hits the back of your throat and your eyes start to water. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure.
“Fuck my throat,” you beg ask, “Please”
A smile dangles on the corner of his lips as he guides himself into your mouth, smirking at how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “Well since you asked so nicely.”
You whimper around him, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. Suddenly he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with a sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. He crashes his lips to yours in response before pulling away suddenly.
His eyes widen as he looks around, suddenly looking frantic, “Shit, condoms. Stay here, I’ll quickly get dressed and run to my–”
“Are you clean?”
Seungcheol’s eyes go wide at your suggestion before slowly nodding, “I got tested last month, you’re not suggesting…” His voice trails off.
Have you ever let anyone hit it raw? Absolutely not. Did you have the patience for him to go to his apartment and grab condoms? Also absolutely not.
“I’m on birth control, clean, and way too fucking horny for you to be anywhere except inside me.” You state blankly. He shakes his head in astonishment before climbing on top of you, kissing you once more. 
“God, you’re perfect.” he sighs, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks at you one more time for approval. “Ready?”
“Please— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head slides inside you, eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. He barely pulls out before fucking into you with a little more force.  “Shit, you’re so tight, fuck.”
“Cheol please,” you gasp, not quite sure what you're asking for when you latch onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. You’ve never felt this full in your life as Seungcheol waits for you to adjust, pussy spasming around him in ways that make his eyes roll back. When you give him the okay he pulls out slowly, so you can feel every vein as it drags on your walls before he fucks back into you.
His pace starts to get faster and the sounds from both of you sound straight from a porno, but you don’t care because all you can think about is how good his dick feels inside you, how full you feel. From this position, you can see the way his face contorts in pleasure, brows furrowed and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips and sucks hard. “Fuck princess, you’re so perfect shit– pretty pussy made for me, huh?”
“For you,” you pant, thoughts reduced to just the feeling of him inside you. “All for you Cheol.”
His mouth curves into a soft smile as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Seugcheol’s hand slides down to grasp your hip, squeezing the soft skin and pulling you harder against him, impossibly closer. 
“You’re perfect princess, my perfect pretty baby,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he repeats, more to himself than to you, voice strained as he tries to hold himself back, chasing your release before his own.
The pressure inside you builds up, tightening, and you’re sure you look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, but the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Cheol, I’m—” 
He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you baby, let go for me. I’ll take care of you,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall (thank god his room is the only one next to yours). Your body obeys him, a gast tearing through you as you moan Seungcheols name like a prayer. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, fucking you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, his expression as wrecked as you feel. “Tell me where—.”
“Inside.”
“Shit, are you sure?”
“Fill me up Cheol, please. Want it so bad.”
He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. He buries himself inside you, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls. He ruts against you, his body trembling against yours before he collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms and kissing you gently. You almost cry when he slips out of you, hating the feeling of being empty as he finds your bathroom and returns with a towel to clean you up, eventually lulling you to sleep.
The first thing you register when you wake up is warmth— you soft sheets tangled around your limbs, the lingering scent of cologne woven into the fabric. The second thing is weight, the steady rise and fall of a chest beneath your cheek, an arm draped around your waist, fingers splayed possessively over your hip.
Your eyes flutter open, and for a moment, you’re disoriented. The golden morning light filters through the curtains, casting lazy patterns across the room, but it takes another second for reality to catch up.
Seungcheol.
His presence is unmistakable, the solid warmth of him anchoring you even before you tilt your head up to look at him. His face is relaxed in sleep, soft in a way you don’t think you’ve seen before. His lashes rest against his cheeks, lips slightly parted, one hand still gripping your waist as if unconsciously keeping you close .
You take a slow breath, careful not to wake him just yet, allowing yourself the luxury of watching him like this. The confidence he always carries, the sharp smirks and teasing remarks—none of it is present in this moment. Right now, he’s just Seungcheol.
Your fingers move instinctively, tracing the curve of his nose, the contour of his lips. His grip on your waist tightens slightly in response, and you hear the low, raspy sound of his voice.
“Mmm.” A deep inhale, then a groggy mumble. “It’s too early.”
You laugh softly, then for a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your breathing, the quiet of the morning stretching between you. His fingers skim along your spine absentmindedly, tracing patterns into your skin. It’s dangerously intimate, this kind of quiet closeness, and you find yourself holding your breath as you wait for him to say something.
When he finally does, his voice is softer than before. “Did you sleep well?”
You nod against him. “Yeah. You?”
His thumb brushes over your hip, slow and deliberate. “Best sleep I’ve had in a while.”
There’s something unspoken in his words, something that lingers between the two of you, but neither of you address it. Not yet. Instead, you stay like this for a while longer, wrapped in each other. Eventually, though, reality has to creep back in. You sigh, shifting slightly. “We should probably get up.”
Seungcheol groans dramatically, pulling you tighter against him. “Or we could just stay like this.”
You laugh, pushing at his chest again, this time with more force. “You have things to do, and I—”
“—have to stay here and cuddle me,” he finishes smoothly, peeking one eye open again and giving you a peck on the lips. “Sounds like the perfect plan, right?”
You roll your eyes but don’t immediately pull away, allowing yourself one more stolen moment of peace before finally sitting up. Seungcheol watches you, his gaze heavy-lidded, filled with something you can’t quite name. Then, just as you’re about to move off the bed, his hand catches your wrist, stopping you.
You glance back at him, and his expression is unreadable for a beat before he smirks, tugging you down just enough to brush his lips against yours.
“Morning,” he murmurs, and it feels dangerously close to something more.
You swallow, the weight of the moment settling over you, but instead of overthinking it, you smile. “Morning.”
A week later you find yourself lying in the same bed, missing the man who had laid with you. The two of you haven’t seen each other since—your schedules never quite aligning—but the texts haven’t stopped. If anything, they’ve only gotten more frequent and flirtatious.
Cheol: You avoiding me or just giving me time to miss you? You: Are those the only options? Cheol: Unless you’d rather admit you can’t stop thinking about me. You: You’re so full of yourself. Cheol: And you love it.
You hate how much you do love it.
You turn and nearly walk into two people standing in the hallway.
“Whoa—careful,” a deep voice says as a steady hand catches your elbow.
It’s Seungcheol. Of course, it’s Seungcheol. He’s standing in front of you, that familiar grin spreading across his face. Standing next to him is a man you instantly recognize—Wonwoo. His calm, sharp features are exactly as you remember, though he seems a little more refined since college. You school your expression, feigning polite curiosity.
“Hey,” you manage, adjusting your grip on the bag.
“Hey yourself,” Seungcheol says, his grin widening. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Uh, I live here,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light despite the sudden thumping in your chest.
Wonwoo clears his throat, glancing between the two of you. “Cheol, are you going to introduce me, or should I do it myself?”
“Right.” Seungcheol gestures toward him. “This is Wonwoo—friend, buddy, compadre, if you will, and frequent pain in my ass. Wonwoo, this is…” He pauses, “Her.”
Wonwoo raises an eyebrow but extends a hand to you. “Nice to meet you, ‘Her.’ Or, nice to see you again, I guess.”
You laugh, shaking his hand. “Nice to see you too. I’d remind you of my real name, but apparently Seungcheol forgot it.”
“Hardly, you’re the only thing he’s been talking about recently. You were friends with Kwan’, right? I think I crashed your study sessions a few times.”
The mention of Seungkwan brings a smile to your face, he’s now roommates with Jeonghan, even though he’s grown so much since you first met him the younger boy will always have a special place in your heart, “Yeah probably, he always had someone tagging along with him. That kid was a real social butterfly.” Wonwoo opens his mouth to respond but Seungcheol cuts him off.
“Yeah, great, glad you guys are close.” Seungcheol crosses his arms over his chest, tilting his head as he studies you. ”Small world and such.”
Your stomach twists slightly, but you keep your expression neutral. “Yeah, crazy coincidence. It’s almost like we went to the same school.” you say sarcastically, “So, what games will you be playing today?” 
Seungcheol narrows his eyes at you, “Who said anything about playing games?”
You swear your heart stops at that moment.
“Oh-uh,” Think, think, think, “Well the walls don’t do a very good job at masking your swearing at night, just assumed that’s what was going on.” 
Wonwoo, ever the observant one, stays quiet, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—like he’s connecting dots that you’d rather he didn’t.
“Sure,” Seungcheol responds, still watching you closely. “Anyways, we should get going.”
You nod, stepping back toward your door. “Yeah, it was nice seeing you both. I should put these away before they melt.”
“Uh huh,” Seungcheol mutters, stepping aside. Wonwoo simply nods politely, his expression calm but unreadable.
Once inside your apartment, you set the groceries down with a sigh, your mind racing. You didn’t slip up that bad, right? At least you had covered your mistake pretty well? Still, there was something about the way Seungcheol looked at you– like he was trying to piece together a puzzle– that left a sinking feeling in your stomach.
Another few days pass before you hear from Seungcheol outside of the usual teasing texts. You’re curled up on your couch when your phone buzzes.
Cheol: So, are you going to keep eavesdropping through the walls, or are you finally going to come over and play?
You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.
You: Who says I want to play?
Cheol: You wound me. But fine, if you’re too scared to lose, I understand.
You: Oh, please. Like you could actually beat me at anything.
Cheol: Prove it. Tonight. My place.
You hesitate for a moment. It’s one thing to comment on him playing games, but actually playing with him? You can’t be sure you won’t slip up again. But then again, you can’t let him think you’re scared.
You: Fine. What time?
Cheol: 8. Wonwoo will be there. And a few others. Don’t be late.
You stare at your screen for a moment before shaking your head. There’s no way this is a good idea, but you’re already getting up to change.
At 8:03, you knock on Seungcheol’s door. He opens it almost immediately, as if he had been waiting for you.
“You’re late,” he says, pouting slightly.
“It’s literally been three minutes, you big baby.”
“Three minutes too long.” He steps aside, letting you in. “Come on, the others are already here.”
His apartment is warm and filled with an easy kind of chaos. Wonwoo is lounging on the couch, a controller in hand, looking perfectly unbothered as he glances up at you. “She showed.”
“She did,” Seungcheol confirms, closing the door behind you.
At the other end of the room, four other guys are gathered, already deep into conversation. Seungcheol gestures toward them. “These are the guys. That’s Jihoon—" he points to the one sitting cross-legged on the floor, focused on a laptop. Jihoon barely glances up, offering only a short nod. “Vernon—” the boy next to Jihoon gives a small wave, expression relaxed. “Mingyu—” the tall one grins and throws an arm around Seungcheol’s shoulder. “And Soonyoung.”
Soonyoung—who you recognize from random campus events back in college—immediately brightens. “Wait, I know you! You were friends with Seungkwan, right?”
You laugh, nodding. “Yeah, that was me.”
“Small world, huh?”
Seungcheol claps his hands together. “Alright, now that introductions are out of the way, let’s get down to business.”
“Games,” Mingyu supplies helpfully.
“Winning,” Seungcheol corrects, looking directly at you.
You raise an eyebrow. “You wish.”
He grins. “We’ll see.”
The first game is an intense round of Mario Kart, and to no one’s surprise, Wonwoo dominates. “You guys suck,” he mutters as he crosses the finish line first yet again (as if you and Seungcheol weren’t on his tail the whole time).
“Okay, okay,” Seungcheol says, waving a hand. “Let’s switch it up. How about teams?”
You find yourself paired with Jihoon, who simply shrugs. “You ready?”
You smirk. “Let’s kick some ass.”
“Hell yeah.”
The match starts, and it’s immediately clear that Seungcheol is more competitive than he let on. The room is filled with laughter, shouts of victory, and groans of defeat. Soonyoung nearly falls off the couch at one point, yelling dramatically when your car pulls ahead of him.
Through it all, you feel yourself relaxing, the nervous energy from earlier fading away. When you glance at Seungcheol, he’s already watching you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he grins again.
As the night stretches on, the games gradually give way to easy conversation and laughter, drinks appearing in everyone's hands. Mingyu pours shots for everyone, insisting on a toast to new friends, while Soonyoung—already a little tipsy—challenges Jihoon to a battle of wits (which mostly consists of Jihoon sighing heavily while Soonyoung rambles on).
You find yourself nestled into the couch, comfortably warm from the drinks, the buzz of conversation wrapping around you. Seungcheol drops down next to you, draping an arm along the back of the couch. “Having fun?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.
You let out a quiet laugh. “Guess you’re not as unbearable as I thought.”
“High praise.” He grins, taking a sip from his glass.
Eventually, the night winds down, one by one, the others heading out or claiming their spots to crash for the night. You stretch, standing up to grab your things. Seungcheol watches you with an amused glint in his eyes. “Need someone to walk you home?”
You raise an eyebrow, a huffed laugh leaving you. “What, for the whole two feet I need to walk?”
“Exactly,” he says, standing up and smirking. “Wouldn’t want anything to happen to you in the five steps it takes to get there.”
You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips as he walks you to your door anyways. As you turn the key to your apartment, you look back at him, maybe it’s the alcohol in your system, or maybe it’s the confidence from meeting his friends that has you leaning up to place a soft kiss on his lips, “Goodnight, gamer boy.”
You realize your mistake the next morning, hoping he didn’t.
Still, life goes on, months pass by with you and Seungcheol seeing each other but never giving what you have a label. Your affection for the man starts to pile more by the day along with your guilt, feeling as if you’re betraying him with every brush of your skin on his. Tonight you’re curled up comfortably by his side, his TV playing some rom-com in the background as the two of you feast on fried chicken and soju, a perfect evening. You don’t know when your conversation became talking about your childhood, but you don’t care as Seungcheol tells you a story of the messes he got into with his older brother.
“You’ve always been a trouble-maker haven’t you?” you exclaim, kissing the tip of his nose. He giggles, humming in response and you admire the way it makes his face light up, warming your heart. Everything is so perfect, the way his arms wrap around you, the way the alcohol makes your brain slightly fuzzy. How he presses kisses all over your face as you laugh, finally getting a real kiss pressed to your lips as he lays you down on his couch. Sweet, gentle, and full of an emotion you don’t want to name. When he pulls back the same emotion fills his eyes.
“I really like you, you know?” he says shyly. You nod in response, smiling up at him. “We should make things official then, yeah?” You’re about to nod when the guilt you’ve been suppressing comes back stronger than ever, “I- I’m sorry.” You tell him. Before he can question you further, you stand up, rathering your stuff, “I’m really sorry Cheol.” You say once again before leaving his apartment, too drunk and too scared to face him.
The next day, as much as you try to avoid him, you run into Seungcheol in the hallway and he stops you. His teeth worry at his bottom lip, brow furrowed, “We need to talk about last night. Did I do something? I thought we– I thought things were going well but– just.. Tell me what I can do. Please?”
His words shatter any resolve you had to keep things from him.
“I know you stream.” the words fall from your mouth and make the man in front of you go ridged, “I mean, I’ve watched you a few times– more than a few– I found you a few months before you moved in and didn’t really know what to do.” You wring your hands together, too nervous to look him in the eye.
A few moments pass before he replies, “So what, you just planned on never telling me? Even after we started hanging out? After we… after everything?” His voice sounds defeated, broken. You shake your head but no sound comes out of your mouth. What could you say? Had you ever planned on telling him? You never knew things would get this far, if you did would you have told him sooner. You can feel Seungcheols heavy gaze on you, prompting you to speak, “I— I don’t know Cheol. I’m really sorry I just- I don’t know.”
He nods in response, and you can practically feel your heart drop, “Give me some time.” Is all he says before walking away, leaving you feeling empty.
Another week passes without a word from Seungcheol. Then another. Guilt is eating you from the inside, you don’t know what Seungcheol is thinking, if he’ll ever talk to you again. You can’t say you’d blame him if he didn’t. Once again at work you start slipping up, eventually Minghao decides that enough is enough. 
“Spill, now.” He says when you take your usual seat across from him. You try to convince him to wait until Jeonghan arrives but he’s firm in his insistence.
“Tell me what's going on, from the beginning. No lies, no excuses, no ‘I’ll figure it out on my own’ bullshit.” And so you do. You start from the beginning, Jeonghan's recommendation, the comfort it had brought you until your new neighbor appeared, the dates, the late-nights, the avoidance. You spill your guts out and Minghao listens. When you finish your tangent he just shakes his head.
“I know I’m an idiot Hao, but what was I supposed to do?” You defend yourself, from what exactly, you aren’t sure. Your throat starts to tighten and Minghao places his hand atop yours on the table, “Hey, it’s going to be okay. You’re overthinking it.” He talks the panic out of you like he has so many times before, guides your breathing and soothes your nerves.
“Just because you’re an idiot doesn’t mean you can’t fix things.” His statement makes you laugh, his hand squeezing yours reassuringly. “Trust me, I’m sure you and your little gamer boy can work things out. Just tell him the truth, the same way you just told it to me.” You nod in response. The rest of the break the two of you talk like you always do, laughing and jabbing your coworkers as Minghao just rolls his eyes at you. 
“Y/n?”
Your name from across the room breaks the comfortable bubble you’d been in with your friend. Seungcheol stands a few feet away from your table, betrayal evident in his eyes. You stand up to go towards him, but his scoff makes you stop in your tracks. He turns on his heel and walks out.
“What are you doing? Go after him, dumbass.” Broken out of your trance you hurry out the door, ignoring how the cold wind bites at your skin, your jacket left behind you. Seungcheol’s back is towards you as you chase after him, grabbing his arm and forcing him to face you.
“Wait a second, I-” 
You’re cut off when he yanks his arm from your grip. Your chest aches when you see the look in his eyes. It’s unfamiliar, the face of the man you once found comfort in contorted into something else, something that scared you.
“Don’t start with me Y/n,” his tone is harsh, cutting through the cold air straight into your chest, “I trusted you, you know that? I really trusted you, I thought- it doesn’t even matter because you turned out to be the same as everyone else. This is all, what, some sort of twisted game? You wanted to get into my life and have a piece of me like every other crazy bitch that watches me, right? Well congradu-fucking-lations, you win. Your sick game is over now.” His eyes looked at you, filled with anger, betrayal, hatred, “And to think, after I started to believe that maybe, just maybe you had a reason to lie to me, that you actually cared about me, I see you with another guy. You can’t even go one week without finding a new boy-toy to play with, can you? You’re just another attention-seeking whore.” 
His words hit you like a slap in the face. Here you are, freezing your ass off to try and explain yourself all for what? Finally all the emotions that have been boiling under the surface start to bubble over, “Excuse me?” Your voice comes out dangerously calm, seemingly stopping Seungcheol’s next sentence. 
“First of all,” you clarify, “you’re the one who moved in next to me, let's not get things twisted. And yeah, I didn’t tell you I knew who you were, you wanna know why? Because the first time I saw you it looked like you were about to have a nervous breakdown because I recognized you. Of fucking course I said I knew you from college, I wasn’t about to make you more uncomfortable than you already were! I haven’t watched a single video since that day out of respect for you and your privacy. You are the one who kept talking to me, you are the one who asked me out, you are the one who kept doing things that would make it impossible for me to not start falling for you. A whore? I’ve been so worried about you that I make stupid mistakes in the simplest fucking tasks at work and my coworkers started to get worried, my friends started to get worried. So I finally tell them what's going on and when they convince me to come clean and explain everything to you, you decide to jump to conclusions. You can say whatever you want, Choi Seungcheol, but don’t you dare think for a second that I don’t care about you.” Hot tears stream down your face, but you don’t care, the words come pouring out from you, and you watch as Seungcheols expression morphs from anger, looking away before you can see what it turns into. His hand reaches out for yours but you pull away, not looking at him because you know if you do it’ll change your mind. “I hope you can find an attention-seeking whore to play with Seungcheol because I can’t do this. Not anymore.”
When you return to the cafe, Minghao doesn’t scold you for letting your emotions control you, offering instead to cover for you so you could go home but you refuse. Because what is home, you think, without Seungcheol. 
You stay at Jeonghans for the next few days, calling out sick from work to instead watch dramas with Seungkwan. He doesn’t question your sudden appearance, nor the tears that fall whenever the drama leads would interact, which you’re thankful for. He gives you a steady shoulder to cry on and a reliable source of laughter to cheer you up. The two of you are currently huddled under a blanket, watching as Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams run towards each other in the rain. Your hands are holding his tightly under the blanket as you both squeal when they kiss. When the movie ends tears stream down both of your faces and Seungkwan bumps your shoulder lightly, “Whatever you’re going through must be serious, you never cry during The Notebook.” 
You roll your eyes at his statement, laughing along with him as you turn the T.V. off. He turns to face you, suddenly serious and you know what's coming.
“You’re not kicking me out, are you?” The smile accompanying your joke doesn’t quite reach your eyes, and Seungkwan notices with a sigh.
“You know I would never, but you also know you can’t avoid going back forever. Eventually you’ll need to go back to your apartment.” He gives a pointed look at your too-big hoodie and sweats courtesy of Jeonghan. “Listen Y/n, you know I love you but–”
“I know Kwan’, I know. I’m just scared. Even if I know you’re right. I don’t think I’m ready to face him yet.” You cut him off, tears welling in your eyes once more. Seungkwan clasps your hands in his.
“Remember my senior year when I had a mental breakdown and called you at ass-O’-clock in the morning?” You nod, the memory vague but there. He continues, “I went over to your house and told you I was scared, that suddenly everything felt so real with job applications, interviews, and graduation getting closer. I didn’t know what to do, I wasn’t ready to be an adult yet and suddenly life was being shoved in my face and I didn’t know how to cope. Do you remember what you said to me?” A small smile forms on your face among the tears, Seungkwan giving you a reassuring one in response.
 “There are some things you’ll never be ready for, but the clock still ticks and the Earth still spins, no matter how terrified you are. You just have to do it scared.” 
You recite the words with him, words your parents had told you when you were eighteen and unprepared for college life, words you lived by since then, that had gotten you through your darkest times and happiest moments. Words that you had somehow lost in the chaos of adulting. 
You wipe your face on your sleeve, small laughs replacing your sobs as you look at your lap, “Thanks Kwan.” 
You don’t need to say anything else, he knows, like he always does. Like all of your friends always do because at the end of the day no matter how tough things get you will always have an amazing support system full of amazing friends. No man could change that, no amount of distance could break the bond your little entourage have. Because they, you realize, are home.
Seungkwan wraps you in a warm embrace as you tear up some more, not sad this time. The two of you rock back and forth for a while before pulling away and making eye contact. 
“Tomorrow?”
“Can’t we wait until the weekend?”
“Fine, you stubborn pain in the ass. Saturday. Morning.”
You groan in response but don’t bother to hide the smile on your lips.
Saturday morning comes faster than you’d like. The moment your eyes flutter open, reality crashes into you like a wave, heavy and unrelenting. For a fleeting moment, you consider burying yourself deeper into the blankets, pretending that you could stay in Jeonghan’s guest room forever. But Seungkwan’s words from the night before echo in your mind. You just have to do it scared.
With a deep breath, you push yourself out of bed. Jeonghan is already in the kitchen, sipping his coffee with an all-knowing smirk when you walk in. "So, today’s the big day, huh?"
You roll your eyes, reaching for the mug he’s already set out for you. “You act like I’m about to get married.”
“Considering the dramatics, it might as well be.”
You groan, dropping your head onto the counter. “Can you not?”
Jeonghan chuckles, patting the top of your head before walking away. “Just rip the bandaid off, Y/n. You’ll feel better once you do.”
You’re not sure about that, but you know he’s right.
By the time you reach your apartment complex, your heart is pounding so loudly that you can hear it in your ears. The familiar hallway feels foreign, your feet carrying you toward your door on autopilot. You turn the key in your apartment door, the familiar creak of the hinges sounding louder than usual in the quiet hallway. The space is just as you left it—dim, still, and eerily empty. It feels foreign, like you don’t quite belong here anymore. Maybe because, for the past few days, you didn’t. With a heavy sigh, you drop your bag by the door and toe off your shoes, making your way to the couch. The exhaustion from carrying the weight of everything settles into your bones. You lean back, eyes fluttering shut, trying to steady your breathing.
It takes a few days for you to settle back into your apartment. At first, everything feels too quiet. You find yourself reaching for your phone to text Seungcheol before remembering the way things ended. You distract yourself with work, with cleaning, with anything to keep your mind from wandering to the ache in your chest. But no matter how much you try to push it down, it lingers.
You haven’t seen him since that night. You don’t expect to. Instead you go back to how things had been before he moved in, ignoring the ache in your chest whenever you hear him through your thin apartment walls. 
Some nights, you lie awake, staring at the photo you had taken with him on your first date, wishing to go back in time. You listen to the faint sounds of his life bleeding through the walls, wondering if he does the same, or if he threw the picture away all together. The murmur of his voice on the phone, the clink of dishes in the sink, the low hum of his TV. It’s almost cruel how easily he seems to slip back into routine while you feel like you’re unraveling. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. That you’ll get used to it. But the silence in your own apartment is deafening, and the space he left behind feels colder than it should.
You start wearing headphones more often. It helps, a little. Drowns out the ghost of his presence. Keeps you from wondering if he ever pauses, mid-conversation, mid-laugh, mid-breath, thinking about you. You don’t let yourself hope.
But late one night, when you’re standing at your sink rinsing out a mug, you hear it—your name. Soft, hesitant. Muffled by the wall but unmistakable. Your breath catches, fingers tightening around the ceramic. You wait, straining to hear more. A part of you wants to move closer, to press your ear against the wall, to pretend that he’s just on the other side, that nothing has changed. But then you hear footsteps, the creak of his door opening.
And then nothing.
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You tell yourself it was nothing.
But you don’t wear your headphones that night.
The next morning, you wake up with the imprint of your phone against your cheek, the playlist you put on last night long finished. Your first thought is that you dreamed it—his voice, his hesitation. That your mind is just playing tricks on you because it wants so badly to believe he still thinks about you.
But then, as you move through your morning routine, you catch yourself hesitating near the front door. You don’t know why. Maybe it’s the weight in your chest, the feeling of stepping into the world once again without him waiting to greet you. You push the feelings aside.
When you finally open the door, you nearly step on something– small and familiar, sitting right in the center of your doorstep.
Your scarf.
You freeze. Your fingers twitch at your sides.
The scarf you’d left at his place weeks ago, back when you still had a place there too. It’s neatly folded, like he took care with it, but there’s no note, no explanation. Just the scarf. You swallow hard, your fingers tightening around the fabric as you pick it up. It still smells like his apartment, like the faint trace of his cologne, like something that used to feel like home.
You stand there too long, cold air slipping into your apartment through the open door, numbing your fingers, your face. Your mind races with all the possibilities—did he find it by accident? Did he mean to leave it for you himself? Did he hesitate, just like you are now?
You don’t know what to do with it.
So you do what you always do—you tuck it away, shove it into the depths of your closet like you can bury the feelings that come with it.
But that night, when you curl into bed, your hand drifts toward the closet door. Before you can stop yourself, you pull the scarf back out. Hold it in your lap. Press it between your fingers. Like maybe, if you close your eyes, you can pretend—for just a little while—that you never had lied to him in the first place.
The scarf stays on your nightstand after that. You don’t wear it. You don’t even move it. But you don’t put it back in the closet, either.
It’s stupid, you tell yourself. It’s just fabric. Just something that happened to be left behind. He probably didn’t think twice about it. He was just returning something that wasn’t his, nothing more.
You keep going to work, settling disputes with coworkers who seem to have nothing better to do than fight (you ignore the way you almost reach for your phone to listen to Seungcheols voice as you work).
You keep meeting Jeonghan and Minghao on Wednesdays, occasionally Seungkwan joins the three of you (you ignore the way they glance at you with pity).
Everything is where it’s supposed to be (you ignore how everything you do feels like it’s missing something).
It’s late, and you’re lying in bed, not really asleep, not really awake. The walls between your apartments have always been thin—thin enough that sometimes you can catch pieces of his voice, low and tired, when he’s on the phone late at night.
But this time, there’s no conversation. Just footsteps. The sound of a drawer opening, then closing. A pause. And then, so quiet you almost miss it—your name.
Your stomach twists.
You tell yourself it was just in your imagination, don’t let yourself dwell on why he might have said that because he didn’t (you ignore how you know that’s a lie).
The next morning, you wake up feeling like you never really slept at all. Your body is heavy, your mind clouded with something you don’t want to name. You go about your day like normal—like nothing happened. Like you didn’t hear him say your name. Like it didn’t send a crack through the carefully constructed distance you’ve been trying to build.
But it lingers.
You don’t mean to, but you start listening to him more. Not on purpose—at least, that’s what you tell yourself—but your ears tune in anyway. You notice the little things: the way he moves around his apartment, the late nights he stays up, the mornings he leaves just a little later than he used to.
And then one evening, when you step out of your apartment to grab something from the corner store, you nearly run into him.
You freeze.
So does he.
For a moment, neither of you speak. He looks… tired. Like he hasn’t been sleeping well either. Like maybe he’s been feeling the same weight pressing down on him. Your throat is tight. You should say something. You should walk away.
But then his gaze flickers, just briefly, to your door. To you.
When he starts to turn around Seungkwan’s reminder rings in your head.
Do it scared. 
And before you can stop yourself, before you can think better of it, his name slips past your lips, “Seungcheol.”
His breath catches.
You take a deep breath to steady yourself, “We should talk.”
Seungcheol freezes, hand hovering above his door knob for a second before dropping to his side. When he looks up at you his eyes are full of so many emotions it makes your heart ache; shame, regret, hurt, hesitation. It almost makes you change your mind, but then you see it, the tiniest sliver of hope behind his gaze, that helps you keep going, inviting him into your apartment. He hesitates before entering, you walk in after him, closing the door.
Seungcheol doesn’t sit, so you don’t either. Instead, you stand near the couch, gripping your hands together to keep them from shaking. It’s silent for a moment, you aren’t used to his presence anymore.
“I meant what I said before,” you begin hesitantly. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
His gaze flickers with something unreadable. He responds softly, voice sounding almost broken, “Then why didn’t you just tell me?”
You exhale, the numbed frustration and regret rising again in your chest. “At first I thought it wasn’t important, you were just my neighbor, and you looked nervous when we first met so I figured you’d rather stay anonymous. But then we started to get to know each other and suddenly I was keeping a huge secret and I didn’t know what to do. I-,” You take a deep breath to calm yourself down and stop your rambling, “I was scared. I didn’t want to ruin whatever this was—whatever we were. I thought if I told you the truth, you’d push me away.” You let out a small, humorless laugh. “Looks like I managed to do that anyway.”
Seungcheol sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. “You should’ve given me the chance to decide how I felt about it instead of lying to me.”
You nod slowly, the weight of his words pressing down on your chest. “I know,” you whisper. “I should’ve told you the truth. I should have done so many things differently, but I didn’t, and I hurt you.” You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to meet his eyes even though it makes your stomach twist. “I’m so, so sorry.”
Seungcheol looks at you, nodding, “Me too. For what I said.”
“Don’t worry, I get it, you had every right to be mad.” You protest. 
He flinches, shaking his head. “Not like that.” His hands ball into fists at his sides before he sighs, running one through his hair. “Yeah, you should have told me. And yeah, it hurt. But what I said to you?” His jaw clenches. “That wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve that.” His voice is thick with guilt, his brows furrowed in frustration—at himself, not at you as he looks away. “Did you- when we would be together who were you thinking of?”
You tilt your head in confusion, so he elaborates, “I guess what I’m asking is if you just thought of me as S.coups, if you thought it was just another game.” When he meets your gaze once more it’s as if all the confidence was drained from him, he looked unsure, raw vulnerability in the way he bites his lip and wrings his hands together. 
“It was never a game, not for me at least. To me you’ve always been Seungcheol, even when you first moved in, I didn’t really think about your job other than being worried that I would make you uncomfortable by knowing. Even when I’d watch you play, when you were having fun you were Seungcheol playing games like you used to during class. On days you didn’t seem as into it you were Seungcheol doing your job.”
You hear Seungcheol inhale sharply as you continue, “Back then and now you mean so much to me, I never meant to hurt you, but I did. And I don’t expect you to forgive me just because I apologized. If you still hate me that fi–”
You’re cut off by lips on yours, gentle and nervous until you kiss back. After so long it feels like the world finally clicks into place, a hand sliding into yours gently as your tears mix with his.
When you separate Seungcheol’s hand grips yours tightly, eyes still closed as if he’s scared you’ll be gone when he opens them. “I don’t hate you, Y/n.” His voice is softer now, barely a whisper. “I never did.” This time you lean into him, pressing your lips together once more. His free hand moves to cradle your face, yours lightly gripping the front of his shirt. Muttered ‘I missed you’s are scattered between kisses as you make your way to the couch, placing yourself on Seungcheol’s lap when he sits. Neither of you can help the tears on your faces. 
After who-knows-how-long you’re still in Seungcheol’s embrace, his strong arms wrapped around you, drawing slow patterns on your back as the two of you sway back and forth gently. His heartbeat is steady beneath your ear, a quiet rhythm that makes you feel like you can finally breathe easy. You don’t know how long you sit there, tangled together on your couch, his arms around you like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go. Maybe he is. Maybe you are too.
“Thank you. For coming back.” Seungcheol murmurs into your hair. His voice is soft, careful, like he’s afraid of saying too much, of pushing too hard.
You shift slightly, just enough to look up at him. His eyes are still damp, lashes clumped together, and the sight of it twists something in your chest. “Always,” you whisper. “I’ll be here as long as you still want me.”
His breath shudders as he exhales. “I do.” He presses his forehead against yours, voice thick with emotion. “Always did, always will.”
You close your eyes, soaking in the warmth of him, the weight of his hands resting at your waist, grounding you. “No more hiding. No more running.” you say softly.
Seungcheol nods, his grip tightening like he’s holding onto something fragile. “No more running,” he agrees. For a while, neither of you speak. You just exist in the quiet, in the warmth of each other, letting the weight of everything settle. Eventually, Seungcheol chuckles, breath fanning against your cheek. “I don’t want to move,” he admits.
You smile, brushing your thumb against his cheek. “Then don’t.”
His lips twitch into a grin. “You’ll let me stay?”
You pretend to consider it, tilting your head. “Depends. Are you planning on stealing all the blankets again?”
Seungcheol laughs, the sound vibrating against your skin. “No promises.”
You sigh dramatically. “I suppose I’ll allow it.”
His arms tighten around you, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to yours. “Good,” he murmurs. “Because I don’t think I can let go just yet.”
Neither do you.
“You ready to lose again?” Seungcheol asks, raising an eyebrow, the usual playful confidence in his voice.
You roll your eyes, scoffing. “In your dreams, Cheol.”
It’s silly, how normal it is, how easy it was to slip into the rhythm of this again. Your friends around you in his apartment, all laughing and having fun.
"Hoshi, I’m going to kick your ass!" Seungkwan yells from across the room, his voice high-pitched with mock frustration.
"You've got a lot of nerve talking, considering you're in last place," Soonyoung teases back, his grin wide and infectious.
"I can’t believe we’re playing this game again," Mingyu groans dramatically, even though he’s clearly enjoying himself despite the complaints.
"You’re just mad because I hit you with a shell. Like this," Jihoon shoots another shell at Mingyu’s cart, the corner of his lips curving upward as he hears Mingyu’s swears.
Seungcheol laughs, his usual confidence shining through as he skillfully handles his character. Every now and then, his hand would brush yours, and in those moments, it felt like time had slowed just enough for you to savor the simple joy of being surrounded by friends—by family.
"You’re about to lose!" Jeonghan said, voice full of amusement as he leaned over to look at the screen.
Seungcheol shot him a mock glare. "You’re not even playing."
But despite the teasing, the tension was long gone. No more waiting for the right moment to speak, no more hiding. It isn’t perfect—nothing ever is—but it's real. And that's enough.
You lean back against the couch, your head resting against Seungcheol’s shoulder as you pull into fourth place with a groan.
Seungcheol leans in, nudging your shoulder lightly with his. “So, when do you plan on winning?” he teases, his grin wider than before.
You glare at him, but the corners of your mouth betray you, lifting into a smile you can’t fight. “I’ll win when I’m good and ready, it’s not my fault my boyfriend is a professional.” you reply, your voice playful as you pout at the man in front of you. He laughs and presses a kiss to your lips, “Boyfriend, huh? You’re trying to use my weaknesses against me aren’t you?” You look up at him with the best innocent face you can manage, “That depends, my dear, is it working?”
“Maybe.”
“Ugh, get a room, you two.” Seungkwan’s complaints cause a wave of laughter as Seungcheol just pulls you closer into his side, sticking his tongue out at the younger boy. The teasing continues for a while longer, but you can feel how the warmth in the room isn’t just coming from the shared space or the game. It’s the laughter, the familiarity, and that makes a smile spread onto your lips. No distance, no walls. Just warmth, joy, and the comfort of being surrounded by people who cared. People who you knew would be by your side through thick and thin because the clocks still tick and the Earth still spins, time moves forward with them by your side to move with it.
A/N: Wooo she’s finally done!! Thx @orngejuic for being my beta reader ilysm.
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tan1shere · 2 days ago
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My Winner
Billie Eilish x female reader !
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A/n: This is how we cope ladies and no gentlemen. Enjoy my loves <3
Summary: after the grammys, Billie finds a way to forget. But you find it hard. Knowing that nothings truly ok. (You'll see.)
Warnings: angst, but heavy on the comfort I promise <3 reader has anxiety so mentions of that
Tags: @trulyy-yourzz @eilishslut @chrissv4mp @n0vabug @dollyvuu @dollarbils @sweetcherriexs
^comment if you want to be added^
Masterlist
What an anxiety filled night. It was nearing the end. The grammys. You know, the big event that always either turns someone's life around or ruins it. You had been anxious all day, surprisingly Billie wasn't. She was so excited to just be there. Happy to be with you especially. But you knew as soon as you took your seats she was masking how anxious she was.
The red carpet was full of stars, full of heaps of people you didn't know either. There was always something about your anxiety, and ever since you had the hunch that your anxiety could always tell you if somethings up, you've been listening to that hunch heavily. Billie also knew of this, but you tried keeping extra quiet currently. If she knew you were anxious that'd set her into a complete state of worry. Knowing you seem to get this way when something is up later on. You couldn't let her get anxious about the night. You hold her hand, walking along as photographers took your photos.
You were next to Finneas and Claudia also, Finn spotting your anxiousness in seconds. You really thought you were hiding it better. He pokes your arm as an interviewer talks to Billie. "Hey whats up?" You look up at him. "What do you mean?" His brow raises. "I've known you for how many years now? Don't bullshit me what's up?" His hand rubs your arm, you grab it softly removing it. "I-" You sigh. "Ok, I'm really anxious for today, I have this odd feeling. I don't want her to see me like this though. She's enjoying herself and I'd like to keep it that way."
"Y/n." - "Please don't say anything." He's now the one to sigh. "Fine, but if she notices something is up, tell her. You know she always worries about you." You nod. "I know I know, just want her happy." He gives you a soft smile, kissing the top of your head. It was nice, he was always so brotherly towards you, you always wanted an older brother. "Like I told her, if we don't win anything it'll be ok." He pipes up. You were about to say, everything about the fact she deserves this though, she has a great right to earn this achievement. But you stay quiet, knowing he is right. You just want what's best for her. Knowing she's always so gracious.
She walks back over to you guys. "Hey, it's almost time to go, you ready?" You nod at her, giving her a smile. As she leads you out with such excitement, you look back at Finneas. He gives you a reassuring nod. Settling some nerves within you. Your mind talks as you get there, finding your seat and such. Telling yourself that this will all be ok. If it doesn't turn out good, you can be there for her. Give her encouragement, telling her she did amazing regardless- "Hello, earth to Y/n." She says standing infront of you. You snap out of your trance. "Hm?" She giggles at you. "Silly cutie." The name eases everything within you, looking into her eyes.
"I said here are our seats." She beams. You sit down, watching everyone else do so. "You excited to perform baby?" You smile sweetly at her. She smiles back. "Hell yeah. I mean a little bit nervous but this is honestly second nature to me now. I'm pumped." You could see how genuinely happy she was. It sooths everything you had previously been worried about.
But not for long, when they were up there singing your chest feels heavy, ignoring it like usual, even not in this situation you enjoy your girlfriends performance. But it doesn't go unnoticed by Claudia. "Babe, you alright?" You turn to her. Her comforting tone makes you let go for a moment. "Im still worried, I don't even know why I said in my mind whatever happens it'll be ok." She places her hand on your shoulder. "I think you're more worried about this than her." You lower your head. "I know." Sighing, but Claudia gets you to look at her. "And that's fine I hope you know, you care so much about her. It's really sweet." You felt teary. "I just want her growing more, this place can be a bit.. stingy." She laughs.
"Yep, don't we all know it." She goes to wipe one tear, but you stop her. "It's best if I get then out now so I won't- just in case of anything." The two if you share a laugh, it felt nice. Considering you usually talk to Billie about your anxiety. But that was off limits right now. You pay attention to her again, feeling calmer after your talk with Claud. Vibing to the music, less stressed. But now the roles were reversed. As the categories she was nominated for go on she seemingly is off, not as bubbly as before. But she puts up a front. "That's ok there's heaps more." You reassure her. She turns to you and smiles, wrapping an arm around you. "I'm so glad you're here." Your eyes flutter shut. "Glad I could be here baby." Her grip on you tightens a bit. And it makes you worried.
Nonetheless you push that down, you wanted to be strong for her. Be there for her. You rub her back going to sit back up as more people come to perform.
Billie was off taking some photos, you spotted her loosening up again, enjoying herself. You just thank whatever. Happy she's not as worried. You though, your anxiety was starting to come back. Little did you know it was all for a different reason. Because as soon as that last nomination comes round you didn't feel as worried, your anxiety was still present but it was for something you couldn't put your finger on. The last one was called and as they spoke, you immediately look at Billie, not hearing her name. Feeling devastated but ready to comfort. Your hand lands on her shoulder.
Noticing her eyes glaze over. You weren't expecting that to be quite honest. I mean sure upset, but it catches you off guard. You gently kiss her cheek. "You're amazing. You're my winner." And it's like she flips some sort of switch, smiling at you. But not saying a word. Odd. She claps like the rest, standing up, randomly seeming different from her state a few seconds ago. You saw it though, you knew she wasn't ok. The flip so fast, it couldn't possibly be all alright. The night ends and you all leave, getting in her car in silence. It was worrying you more. You go to speak but she does before you. "Let's go to Paris."
Your head turns towards her faster than anything. "Billie- what?" You were struck with confusion. "Let's go, get away. I know you've been talking about wanting to go for months, years even. Let's do it." You were at a loss of words. "Baby, you have tour this month, not to mention it's going to take us half a day to fly over there." She shrugs. "Yeah, but tours not until the 18th we have plenty of time." You had zero clue on what to say. "Billie-" You say concerned. She knew you were going to say something so she speaks. "Come onnn let's be spontaneous. Let's get out of here. We can go home and pack or I can just buy you whatever when we are there."
To say the least you were overwhelmed. Turning your head, looking infront of you as she drives. You tossed with the decision. Maybe it would be cool to get away. You suspected she didn't want to talk about anything tonight, so you'd leave it for a few days. "What do you say huh?" She seemed too pumped, it made your worries linger. "Yeah, sure. Let's do it." - "Yes! That's what I like to hear."
You had packed things that you'd need. But it wasn't distracting you from the events of tonight. Not like it is seeming to do with Billie. "Have you told Finn or Maggie and such yet?" She shakes her head. "Nope, it'll be fineee." That set your stomach on edge. No it wouldn't, you always kept in contact. "Better yet as soon as we get there lets put our phones on flight mode!" She goes to grab your zipped up suitcase. You let out a sigh. "Letsgooo." She says, heading for the door. "Baby." You then say, and she freezes. "Leave something?" She looks at you avoiding everything that leads to tonight. Talking, comforting. Crying.
Maybe she needed this, needed to forget, you keep to your word of doing so in a few days. "Nope, just wanted to say I love you." You smile. She comes over to kiss you. "I, love. You. Right to Paris we go!" This could potentially be fun now the moments sinked in, and you had been wanting to go for quite some time. You follow her out the door heading onto your travels.
Sitting and waiting for the flight, in a silence. Again. But it truthfully didn't last long, almost as if she didn't want to be left with her thoughts. "Ok, let's turn our phones off." You were a bit hesitant. But maybe that'll also make the trip more fun. Just with one another, enjoying the moment. You grab your phone going to do so, noticing she had posted a photo on her story of the airport. You decide to keep quiet, thinking on if this whole thing really was a good idea. You hand her your phone. "It's off." She smiles. "So is mine." You tap your your foot, moving your knee feeling that anxiety coming back. Oh. This is what your body was telling you earlier...
This.
It was 20 minutes away. You had taken a nap, had some food. Billie? None of that, they brought food around but she insisted on you having it. Making your heart tighten. Feeling so wrong still. Nor had she been asleep for all of those nearly 15 hours, staying up all day and night. It wasn't good. "Hey look at the sunshine." She points out the window. You turn your head, seeing it. Then everything floats past you. "Wow." You say amazed. You had always dreamed of coming here. It's just now set in that it's a reality. "That's, the Eiffel Tower!" You beam with excitement. "Sure is." It was beautiful. All the buildings. You smile contently.
When you land and get out, you're greeted by people with their beautiful accents. "bonjour!" Someone greets. You smile, having had practiced a tiny bit of French. "Salut!" They smile at you. "Wait you can speak French?" You nod. "Just a little. Told you this was my dream." You both smile at one another. "You're going to love our hotel room then! Looking right at the Eiffel Tower." You open your mouth. "A- wha- are you serious?" She nods, smiling more. "Oh my god!" And her plan was slowly working, not for too much longer when you figure it out though.
You arrive at the hotel, settling in. "This is breathtaking." You go out on the balcony. "Is this even real I feel like I'm in a movie." She comes out with you. "Very real my love." Then it strikes you on why she's doing this- But her mind was quicker than your own. "You see the tower there?" She points, making your mind distract as you look. "Got us a table at the restaurant there." You're shocked. "What?! How?" She smirks. "I have my ways." You laugh at her. "Say, why dont we go shopping just in time for tonight?" You nod, going to go for a pee.
She sighs a little. "Back on track." Her eyes wander off to the scenery, taking it all in.
Shopping was heaps of fun, all the pretty clothes, all the beautiful sights. But almost all of these were too expensive. "Maybe we could just-" Billie grabs the handful you were about to put back, putting it near the till. "Why don't you get those shoes you liked!" You stood there for a moment. "Billie.. Those are so much I-" "Nonsense, go go!" It took you a second to snap you out of, well honestly. None of this felt real. Then that heaviness returns to your chest. When you go to protest she had already paid for it. Shoes and all. "Baby I-" Her finger waves in your face.
The reality truly hit you. She was distracting you, she was avoiding everything. She goes to pick up the shoes heading out. You trot after her. "Can we-" "Oou let's go find a cute Cafe!" Your brows lift upwards, sewing together. Your worries were starting to fly right back. But she takes your hand as you go off to do whatever.
This was far from normal. You were getting ready, doing your makeup but you can't shake the feeling of the past 24+ hours. You felt like your mind was going to explode. You had to talk to her, you couldn't wait another day. You walk out of the bathroom, dress on and everything noticing she was dressed up to. You had nearly forgotten the topic that you wanted to discuss. "Uhm, babe?" You say, she turns around, jaw dropping. "Woah." You swallow. "Are you ready? You sure look it oh my god." You walk over to her. "Can we talk for a second?" She knew exactly what was about to come. "We don't want to be late, I made the reservation for 7." She goes to leave but you grab her arm.
"Baby-" She sighs. "I'm getting a bit peckish, are you?" She was avoiding it like the plague. You wait a moment. "Yeah, sure." She smiles, kissing your cheek. "Sweet!" And so it went on, you get to the beautiful and iconic tower, mesmerized. "Oh wow it's beautiful." She grabs your hand. "Not as beautiful as you." You stare lovingly in her eyes, such a romantic city, a forgetful one too apparently. Because just like that you were focusing on it more, finding yourself getting hungry.
The night goes on, it was peaceful. But your mind was not. There was a voice in the back telling you to just say something, but the other is battling it, saying you should enjoy this moment and the fact it doesn't happen very often. The food was delicious the view was unbelievable. Just for tonight.
It's now two days later. You cursed yourself at the fact you haven't tried talking about it. But that ends today, she needs to just let it out. You know it's hurting her deep down. The way she's handling it wasn't healthy. You were currently out getting a massage, 'her treat' which is basically been the moto this whole trip. You didn't want to waste it or seem ungrateful. But you had snatched your phone from her bag, you had to see if anyone texted. And surprise surprise they had. Maggie blowing up your calls. Finneas texting you non stop. Fuck. You regret it getting this far. You wanted to tell them but not until you talked to her first. Your finger moves to tiktok, watching all that was going down.
People saying that we've gone missing and that no ones heard from us. "Jesus." You whisper. "You alright my love?" The sweet French lady asks. How the hell did anyone even know so quick. "You're very tense." - "Yeah just- just some stuff going on right now. Sorry." She chuckles. "No need to apologize my dear. That's why you're here, to relax and be calm." You take in a deep breath, feeling her massage you further. You wish Billie was here with you, but she had been off for a run when you had woken up, seeing the little note and directions to come here. Then your eyes flutter shut and you soon fell into a peaceful slumber. One you hadn't had the night before. Due to all the tossing and turning.
Billie wasn't facing you but you knew she wasn't asleep. Fuck sake. You just can't not talk about this anymore. "Thank you, for the lovely massage." She nods gently. "Look after yourself mon amour." You give her a smile. "Merci." You reply politely. You head back, opening the hotel room to see her sitting there. "Oh you're back! How was it?" You plop your bag down. "Good but can we-" "On my run I saw this cute little wine tasting Vinyard ad, we can get a taxi and head out to it tonight! We could also stay-" You breathe slightly. "Billie-" "Or maybe that'd be too much we could stay there for the rest I know they can do-" "BILLIE!" You finally snap.
Silence.
Dead, fucking silence.
You stare at one another, and you go to speak. "Talk to me please." She averts your gaze. "I dunno what you want me to talk about." Your eyes look up, hating this weird behavior. "Billie you're frightening me. You've never done such a thing before." - "May want to elaborate." You just wanted her to let you in. "Stop shutting me out then and maybe I will!" More silence. "Please, I'm begging you lets just tal-" "I don't want to talk." She gets up but your body moves in her way. "No, you are. I'm done trying to forget, you need to let whatever this is out and this time you will not distract me." She had no. Emotion on her face. "Baby please." Your eyes were teary. "Let me help. Please." You start to sob quietly.
That's all you wanted to do, ever since that night. And there it is, her own sobs cascading down her cheeks. You nod. Proud to see it. She goes to you, hugging you, putting her head in your neck. You kiss her head over and over, trying to calm your heart down. "Its ok, I'm here. I promise." You hold her tight. "Let it in, it'll feel better afterwards." She sobs uncontrollably, having had it built up for days. "I'm so fucking sorry." You shake your head, getting her to look at you. "Don't, you didn't do anythin-" "I did, I went all fucking weird, took you here to forget, just move on. And that look on your face before fuck I'm so s-" This time you cut her off. Putting your hand over her mouth.
"Can I say something?" She nods. You go to wipe her tears. "Theres no need to apologize. If anything I'm sorry for not just doing this sooner, I thought you needed time then you'd come round. But I couldn't anymore. You were hurting and that was hurting me. I couldn't bear it any longer." She swallows. "Since I didn't get to say it then. I'll say it now. I am so fucking proud of you. You don't need some silly shiny award that honestly means nothing in the long run. You are amazing regardless." She hugs you tight. "I don't want to loose you." Your brows furrow. Confused. Then you realize why she's done all of this. She could've resulted to drinking but it was this cold outburst instead.
She was afraid she'd loose you over some silly award. You get her to look at you. "Is this why you took me here? To the place I always wanted to go buying me all this stuff?" She nods sheepishly. "Baby.." Your head shakes. "When did we meet." Now she was confused. "2015 ofcourse." You nod. "When did you first get recognized?" ... "2017 ish.." You hold her face. "I've loved you, as a friend, a partner way before any of this even happened. If that's what you're worried about, think again. Because you could loose all those trophys and I'd still be here. You matter more to me." You smile softly. "You're the only trophy I need." She says. You kiss her sweetly. "Soo, are you calling me a whore?" Her face panics making you giggle. "I'm teasing you baby." Her eyes roll.
"You're a doofus." "I'm your doofus and you're stuck with me." She smiles. "I can certainly live with that."
Everything felt clear. You two did stay in Paris for a few more days, this time with no worry in the world. Truly enjoying yourselves. That is after she texted her family back.
You sat out on the balcony, drinking your whine and her some bubbly water. The night air, cool but refreshing. "You know." She began. "There was a category I was nominated for that they didn't mention." You turn your head, utterly confused. "Having the best girlfriend." Your smile creeps on your face.
"And I fucking won."
:,) ugh cuteness.
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superhgb · 2 days ago
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same with jews, not all jews or israelis are diplomats for israel, do you ask the chinese about the chinese government, NO, BECAUSE YOU ARE ANTISEMETIC AND DON'T KNOW NUANCE
Queer 👏 people 👏 are 👏 not 👏 all 👏 fucking 👏 activists 👏
Stop quizzing us on queer history and asking us questions we aren’t qualified to answer about the world and about politics and about our identities
Stop trying to back us into a corner so you can justify your discrimination on the basis that we don’t know what we’re talking about or can’t “defend” ourselves to you
Stop treating every queer person that stands up and says “I want to be treated like a person” as if they’re an activist
Cut that bullshit out
Marginalised people just want to exist and be happy
I don’t know everything, and that doesn’t make me undeserving of your respect or my human rights you fucker
I don’t even owe you the stuff I do know- I still am entitled to basic fucking respect
TLDR; Queer people shouldn’t have to be historians or scientists for you to not be a fucking dick
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fandommothfreak · 2 days ago
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I think movie buff Duke Thomas should force Jason to watch the LOTR movies and literature nerd Jason Todd should force Duke to read the books.
They should make a movie night out of it and then a weekly book club that's really just Jason periodically hacking comms during Duke's patrol so he can yell at him to finish each chapter like a deranged English teacher that follows you around at work. And then they should get into heated arguments about Tom Bombadil; and Duke should get really invested in overanalyzing all the poetry in the book trilogy; and Jason should rewatch all three movies like seven times at least so he can scribble thoughts into the margins of his paperback copies, write dissertations in his head about the effectiveness of different story changes, and cry at Sam's "But I can carry you!" without having to stop reading.
And then they should repeat all of this with The Hobbit. They're both a little psychotic about it and the rest of the family is tired.
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woniedarlin · 2 days ago
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XO,I'm Yours
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pairing: Jungwon x fem! Reader
genre: XO, Kitty au
synopsis: Having a massive crush on Jungwon is tough. Every time he’s around, your brain malfunctions, and instead of acting normal, you… avoid him. He’s calm, chill, and entirely out of your league (at least, that’s what you tell yourself). Enter Kitty, the matchmaker, determined to make things happen. With her “help,” you find yourself in the most awkward yet heart-racing moments with Jungwon.
The worst part? Jungwon is noticing you now. And it’s making everything so much more complicated. But maybe… Kitty’s plan wasn’t so bad after all.
author's note: This was requested by @firstclassjaylee . Thank you for this idea!!! Please let me know the pronouns for the og XO Kitty characters! I wasn’t sure, so if I got them wrong, I’d happily change them immediately. Apologies in advance for not being able to mention all the characters. Happy reading!
caution: This fic contains extreme secondhand embarrassment and an excessive amount of Jungwon-induced butterflies. Read at your own risk!
permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n
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The plan was simple. Avoid Jungwon at all costs.
It wasn’t that he was mean. That was the problem. Jungwon was nice. The kind of nice that made your stomach do flips and made you feel like an idiot for getting so flustered over someone just existing. So, instead of embarrassing yourself, you settled for admiring him from afar. No eye contact. No unnecessary conversations. Easy.
At least, it was easy...until Kitty found out.
“You have a massive crush on him,” Kitty said one afternoon with her arms crossed.
“No, I don’t.” You knew lying was pointless, but still, you had to try.
Kitty gave you a look. “You walked into a door last week because he was standing near it.”
Your face burned. “That was an accident.”
“Sure,” she said unimpressed. “Look, lucky for you, I happen to be amazing at matchmaking. And I happen to have a plan.”
You blinked. “A plan?”
“Step one: Stop avoiding him.”
You immediately shook your head. “Absolutely not.”
“Too bad because I already started.”
Your stomach dropped. “Kitty. What did you do?”
She just grinned. “You’ll see.”
And just like that, your quiet little crush? It was about to become very complicated.
💌
You should have known Kitty wouldn’t waste any time. The very next day, you find yourself in an unavoidable situation.
It started in the Library. You had just settled in your usual corner, buried in a book, when Kitty slid into the seat across from you.
“What are you—”
“Shh.” She put a finger to her lips. “Just act natural.”
That’s when you saw him.
Jungwon.
He was scanning the shelves a few feet away, oblivious to how your entire body tensed at seeing him. Your brain screamed at you to run, but before you could, Kitty leaned in and whispered, “I told him you needed help with your econ homework.”
Your eyes widened in horror. “You did what?”
And right on cue, Jungwon turned, eyes landing on you.
“Hey,” he said as he was walking over.
Kitty beamed. “Perfect timing! She was saying how she’s completely lost in econ.”
You snapped your head toward her. Liar. You were literally top of the class.
Jungwon pulled out the chair beside you and sat down without hesitation. “I can help.”
You swallowed. Oh no.
Kitty’s grin was way too smug. “Great! I’ll leave you two to it.” Then, before you could protest, she was gone.
Leaving you. Alone. With Jungwon.
You looked down at your phone, noticing a message from Kitty
“You’re welcome ;)’’
💌
You tried to focus on Jungwon's explanation for the first few minutes. Really, you did.
But how were you supposed to concentrate when he was sitting this close?
He leaned over the table, pointing at your textbook, his voice steady as he explained some economic theory. You nodded along, pretending to listen, but in reality, your brain was short-circuiting.
“Does that make sense?” he asked, turning to look at you.
You blinked. “Huh?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You weren’t listening, were you?”
Your face heated. “I was! Kind of. Maybe.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re bad at lying.”
You groaned, then covered your face. “This is embarrassing.”
“Why?” He tilted his head. “It’s just me.”
Exactly.
It was just him. Just Jungwon, who you had spent months avoiding because he made you feel like a walking disaster. But he didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he seemed amused.
“I don’t bite, you know,” he said. “You don’t have to be scared of me.”
“I’m not scared of you,” you blurted out.
He smirked. “So you’ve just been avoiding me for fun?”
You clamped your mouth shut.
Jungwon leaned back in his chair, watching you with a knowing look. “Huh.”
You frowned. “What?”
“Nothing.” His smirk deepened. “You’re interesting.”
Your stomach did a backflip.
Oh, you were so doomed.
Later that night, Kitty found you in your dorm room, looking too pleased with herself.
“So?” she asked, flopping onto your bed. “How did it go?”
You groaned. “I made a fool of myself.”
Kitty laughed. “Define ‘fool.’”
“I blanked out. He caught me staring. I admitted to avoiding him. And he called me interesting.”
Her eyes widened. “Wait. He called you interesting?”
You nodded miserably.
Kitty squealed. “That’s huge!”
You frowned. “How is that huge?”
“Because Jungwon doesn’t just call people interesting, my dear hopeless friend. You caught his attention.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “You think?”
“I know.” Kitty grinned. “And trust me, this is only the beginning.”
You groaned again, flopping face-first onto your pillow.
Kitty just laughed.
After all, the matchmaking had only just begun.
💌
“Okay,” Kitty clapped her hands, grinning as she stared at you. “Today’s the day we level you up.”
You blinked and were confused. “Level me up?”
“Yes! You like Jungwon, but you get all shy and awkward around him,” she pointed out. “So, if you want him to notice you, we must work on your confidence.”
You groaned, already feeling embarrassed. “Kitty, this is so unnecessary.”
Kitty ignored you and stepped forward. “First lesson: Posture! Stand straight, shoulders back. Confidence comes from the way you carry yourself.”
You hesitated before adjusting yourself, trying to mimic the way she stood. “Like this?”
Kitty nodded. “Good. Now, when you see Jungwon, don’t look away all nervous. Hold eye contact. Make him feel like he’s the only person in the room.”
You gulped. “The only person in the room? Kitty, I can’t even look at him for three seconds without feeling like I’m about to pass out.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s exactly why we’re practicing! Here, pretend I’m Jungwon.”
You stared at her. “Kitty, this is weird.”
“Do it!” she urged.
Taking a deep breath, you slowly raised your head, looking her in the eyes. You managed to hold it for two seconds before covering your face. “Nope. I can’t do this.”
Kitty groaned dramatically. “Okay, let’s try something else. Flirting! Sometimes, a little playful teasing can go a long way.”
You hesitated. “Like… what kind of teasing?”
Kitty smirked. “Try complimenting him, but make it sound casual. Like, ‘Wow, Jungwon, you look so good today.’”
You cringed. “That doesn’t sound casual at all.”
“It’s all about the tone!” Kitty explained. “Say it naturally, like you’re just making an observation.”
You sighed and cleared your throat, trying to sound confident. “Wow, Jungwon, you look so good today.”
Kitty immediately burst into laughter. “Why do you sound like a robot?”
You groaned and covered your face again. “I told you I’m bad at this!”
She patted your shoulder. “Okay, okay. Let’s try something easier…Oh! What about smiling? When you see him, could you give him a little smile? Not too big, not too small. Just a hint of a smile.”
You nodded and tried it. Kitty examined you for a second before shaking her head. “No. That looks scary.”
“Kitty!!”
“Okay, okay! Let’s just—oh wait, Jungwon’s coming!” Kitty suddenly grabbed your shoulders.
Your eyes widened in pure panic. “WHAT?!”
“Relax! Just do what we practiced!” she whispered urgently.
Jungwon walked past, glancing at the two of you. You froze utterly, your mind going blank. Then, at the last second, you remembered Kitty’s advice. You quickly straightened your posture and gave him a small smile… except you accidentally bared your teeth like an awkward grimace instead of a confident smile.
Jungwon slowed down slightly, his brows furrowing. “Uh… are you okay?”
‘’Pfft’’ Kitty covered her mouth, trying not to laugh.
You, wholly mortified, quickly turned away. “Yes! Totally fine! Just… stretching my face!”
Jungwon blinked, clearly confused, before nodding slowly and walking off.
The moment he was out of sight, you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Kitty, I hate this.”
Kitty finally burst out laughing. “Okay, maybe that wasn’t your best moment, but hey! At least you tried!”
“I just embarrassed myself,” you muttered.
Kitty grinned. “Relax. Slow and steady wins the race. You’ll get there.”
You sighed, not entirely convinced, but Kitty’s encouragement made you feel slightly better. Maybe with time—and much more practice—you’d finally get the confidence you needed.
…Hopefully, before you died of embarrassment first.
💌
After your absolute disaster of a confidence practice session with Kitty, you decided there was only one solution.
Avoid Jungwon.
At all costs.
Your already massive crush on him had now turned into full-blown mortification. Every time you so much as thought about how you awkwardly bared your teeth at him, you wanted to disappear into the earth. So, naturally, when you spotted Jungwon walking down the hallway, you did what any logical person would do.
You grabbed the nearest person and used them as a human shield.
“Minho,” you hissed, ducking behind his tall frame.
Minho barely flinched while sipping on his collagen water. “Oi, what’s this then?” he drawled,
You gripped his shoulders. “I need to hide.”
Minho sighed, already used to your antics. “Lemme guess—Jungwon?”
You nodded frantically.
Minho shook his head but didn’t move. “You know, mate, you can’t keep running forever.”
“Yes, I can,” you whispered.
Unfortunately, fate had other plans.
“Minho,” Jungwon’s voice suddenly called out, catching your breath.
You peeked over Minho’s shoulder just in time to see Jungwon stopping before him, looking too good for your heart to handle.
Minho, unfazed, nodded in greeting. “Aye, mate. What’s up?”
Jungwon started talking to Minho about something you were too distracted to process. Because while he was addressing Minho, his eyes kept peeking over Minho’s shoulder—straight at you.
You immediately shrank further behind Minho.
Jungwon’s lips twitched slightly. “Hey,” he said, this time directed at you.
Your brain is short-circuited. Oh no. He’s talking to me. Abort mission. Abort mission.
Minho, ever the instigator, casually stepped to the side, exposing you completely.
You had no choice but to face Jungwon. “H-Hi,” you managed weakly.
Jungwon tilted his head slightly. “Are you hiding from me?”
“What? No! Pfft, that’s crazy,” you blurted out and laughed nervously.
Minho smirked and sipped his collagen water. “Yeah, mate, totally crazy.”
You kicked the back of Minho’s shoe.
Jungwon didn’t look entirely convinced but let it slide. “Alright,” he said before flicking his gaze back to Minho.
You thought you were in the clear—until you noticed that Jungwon kept glancing at you even as he continued his conversation with Minho. Every few seconds, his eyes would shift back to you.
It was subtle, but it was enough to make your stomach flip.
Then, as Minho made some joke in his relaxed drawl, Jungwon suddenly interrupted, his eyes locking on yours. “You don’t have to hide, you know,” he said softly.
Your heart stopped.
After thoroughly enjoying the situation, Minho took a long sip of his drink. “Oi, look at that, would ya? Some real tension here.”
You kicked him again.
Jungwon only smiled slightly before looking away as if he hadn’t just destroyed your ability to function.
And just like that, your plan to avoid him had backfired entirely.
You were so doomed.
💌
The sound of typing and the flick of pages turning was the soundtrack of your days lately. You had been buried in textbooks for what felt like forever. The stress had accumulated, leaving you exhausted. Your face was pale, and dark bags were under your eyes from the sleepless nights, but you couldn’t stop. You had to push through. A vast project was coming up, and you couldn’t afford to fail.
You propped your head up with one hand, barely able to keep your eyes open as you glanced over your notes. The words blurred, your mind already foggy from overworking. Before you knew it, your head dropped onto the table with a soft thud.
“Ugh…,” you mumbled as you fought to stay awake.
The door creaked open, and you heard the familiar sound of footsteps entering. Kitty’s voice followed soon after. “Hey, are you still at it?”
Jungwon’s calm tone responded, “She’s been studying for hours now. I don’t think she’s taking breaks.”
You groaned, too tired to even lift your head. The sounds of them approaching grew closer until you felt the soft pressure of someone standing beside you. You sighed and tried to sit up, but the weight of your exhaustion made it hard.
As you lifted your head, you saw Kitty’s shocked expression first. She gasped, her hand coming up to her mouth. “Oh my gosh! You look like you haven’t slept in days! Your face… it’s—”
You blinked slowly, too tired to defend yourself. “I’m fine,” you mumbled, attempting to give a smile, but it came out weak and crooked.
Kitty’s eyes softened with concern. “You need to take a break. Look at those bags under your eyes. Are you even eating right?”
Before you could reply, you heard Jungwon’s voice. “There’s nothing wrong with your face,” he said unbothered. He bent down to your level. “You’re still pretty, even with all that stress.”
The compliment caught you off guard. You couldn’t help but blush despite how exhausted you were. “W-well, thank you…” you stammered, a little embarrassed.
Kitty rolled her eyes playfully. “See, Jungwon knows what to say! But seriously, you need to rest.” She crossed her arms, and her frown replaced her concern. “This is way too much. You’re going to burn yourself out at this rate.”
Jungwon nodded slightly. “Kitty’s right. You won’t get far if you can’t even stay awake.”
You sighed, both too tired and too embarrassed to argue. “I… I need to finish this.”
Kitty leaned closer and whispered as if sharing a secret, “How about I help you get this done faster? You can relax, and I’ll take care of the rest.”
You blinked slowly, still too drained to think straight. “Are you sure?”
She smirked. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. You need to close your eyes for a bit.”
Jungwon shot you a small and reassuring smile. “Take a break, okay? You don’t want to make yourself sick over this.”
You hesitated momentarily before nodding, grateful for their support even if you still felt guilty. You slid down in your chair, resting your head against the backrest and briefly closing your eyes.
Kitty moved to your side, pulling out her phone to check her messages. Jungwon stayed silent nearby, giving you an almost protective glance as you rested.
“Good. Now, take a nap. No more studying for the rest of the day,” Kitty said with a smile as she gave you the space to rest.
You breathed a sigh of relief and closed your eyes, hoping the rest would help ease the weight of the world you’d been carrying.
💌
You sat quietly on a chair, Minho beside you, applying your skincare. He had been your skincare mentor for a while, helping you with all the little tricks you needed. “Alright, make sure you really press it in,” Minho said, gently patting the moisturizer into your skin.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever do it as well as you,” you murmured. “But thanks for teaching me.”
Minho smiled. “Of course. You’re a fast learner,” he said, dabbing the cream across your cheek. “Maybe you should start your skincare vlog or something.”
You chuckled softly, “I’d probably mess it up on camera.”
Minho shook his head and let out a grin. “You’d be perfect. Trust me.”
You both laughed; the room felt safe. There was no pressure, no expectations, just good company. Then the door creaked open, and you looked up. Jungwon stepped in, looking casual, but something about his presence made the atmosphere feel different…tense, almost.
Minho waved at him, still oblivious to the sudden shift. “Hey, Jungwon! Just helping out with her skincare. You should join us.”
You froze for a moment, catching Jungwon’s eyes. Your heart skipped a beat, but you quickly looked away, too shy to hold his eyes for long.
Jungwon’s lips twitched in an almost a frown. “I’m good,” he said; his eyes were focused on you and Minho, how you both were laughing and talking comfortably.
Minho, clearly unaware of the undercurrent between the three of you, laughed again. “You sure? I think I’m pretty much a skincare pro now.” He gently patted your cheek again, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly.
You noticed Jungwon kept looking at your face, then back to Minho’s hand. There was a slight tension in his posture now. His arms were still crossed, and his eyes had narrowed just a little. “I think she’s got it covered,” Jungwon’s voice a little colder. “You’re always helping her with something.”
You looked down, trying to avoid his gaze as his words were uncomfortably in the air. Your heart beat faster than usual, and you were too shy to respond. Why was it that whenever Jungwon was around, you lost all ability to act normal?
Minho didn’t seem to notice anything wrong. “What can I say? I’m just a helpful guy,” he replied with a wink.
Jungwon’s eyes flickered between the two of you. He uncrossed his arms and took a step closer. “Well, maybe she doesn’t need that much help,” he said, a little irritated. His tone wasn’t even harsh.
You flinched slightly, but you didn’t say anything. You just sat there, hoping the ground would swallow you whole.
Minho noticed the shift. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop making her feel like a project,” he teased, though it was clear he was a little confused by Jungwon’s sudden change in attitude. “I was just trying to be helpful.”
You bit your lip, feeling the awkward silence settle over the room. Jungwon didn’t respond immediately; they just looked at you for a beat longer than necessary. Then he exhaled and glanced at the door. “You should probably get some rest,” Jungwon said softer now. “It’s late.”
You nodded quickly. Unsure of what to say. “Right, I’ll—uh, I’ll head to bed.”
Minho, still oblivious, smiled. “Get some sleep. We’ll finish up tomorrow.”
You nodded again, glancing briefly at Jungwon as you left. Jungwon’s voice stopped you before you could walk out. “You’re… you’re fine, right?”
The question caught you off guard. You hesitated. “I’m fine,” you replied quietly while avoiding his gaze.
He nodded, then gave you an unreadable smile. “Okay,” he said before turning back to Minho.
You walked out of the room quickly,
Was that… jealousy?
That’s impossible.
💌
“You have to wear this,” Kitty declared, holding up a dress that made your stomach tense.
“Kitty, no.”
“Kitty, yes.”
You glared at her through the mirror, but she just grinned as she shoved the outfit into your hands. “Trust me,” she said. “Jungwon won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”
You swallowed hard at the thought. Jungwon. Seeing you. In this.
It wasn’t like you hadn’t dressed up before, but this outfit felt… different. More intentional. It's more like you were trying to get his attention.
Which, okay, you were, but still—
Kitty snapped her fingers in front of your face. “No overthinking! Just wear it. Come on, it’s a party! You’re supposed to look hot.”
You groaned but ultimately let her win (not that you ever had a choice).
By the time you were ready, you were nervous to the point that you needed to go to the restroom for a second. Your reflection in the mirror was almost unrecognizable. Kitty had curled your hair and given you subtle but effective makeup; the outfit made you feel… good.
“You look amazing,” Kitty whispered and squeezed your shoulders. “Now go show Jungwon what he’s missing.”
You rolled your eyes but smiled. You felt a little bit braver as you followed her out.
The party was in full swing by the time you arrived. You weren’t even inside for a full minute before you felt the weight of someone’s eyes on you.
And when you turned—
There he was.
Jungwon.
Standing across the room, eyes locked on you with a similar unreadable expression on his face. For a moment, neither of you moved. The world around you blurred, and all you could focus on was how his eyes slowly traveled over you before he looked away.
Kitty, standing beside you, definitely noticed.
“Oh,” she whispered and nudged you with her elbow. “He so noticed.”
You felt your face heat up.
Jungwon, however, had turned away, disappearing into the crowd before you could react.
The party was energetic, but you barely registered anything. Kitty had practically forced you into this dress, hyping you up, fixing your hair, and making you promise you wouldn’t shrink away if Jungwon talked to you.
But here he was—talking to you—and you were about two seconds from running.
“You look different.”
You looked up at him with your fingers gripping your cup tighter.
“What?”
His gaze was enough to make you feel self-conscious.
“You don’t usually dress like this,” he said.
You swallowed. “Oh. Yeah. Kitty—”
“Makes sense.”
Your brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”
Jungwon took a sip of his drink and then met your gaze again.
“It means you look pretty.”
If that makes sense, your brain wholly short-circuited, and you felt like your stomach was twisting again.
You needed to escape.
But the second you tried to move, a gentle hand wrapped around your wrist.
“Don’t run away,” Jungwon said softly.
You froze.
His grip wasn’t tight or forceful—just enough to hold you there, to make you look at him.
“You always do that,” he murmured.
Your throat went dry.
Jungwon tilted his head slightly, “You’re always avoiding me,” he continued, “but then you’re always looking.”
Your breath hitched.
Jungwon let out a chuckle. Then, most casually, like he wasn’t wholly messing with your heart, he said—
“You don’t have to run. I don’t mind if you stay.”
You weren’t used to this—at least not with him.
“Hey,” Jungwon’s voice was quiet, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
You were processing his words slowly. You had been avoiding him for so long, not because you didn’t like him, but because the thought of being close to him made your heart skip beats. And now, here he was, standing so close,
“I’m okay,” you mumbled, shifting your gaze anywhere but him. The more you looked at him, the more your stomach flipped.
Jungwon’s hand fell to his side. He gave you a little space, but not enough to make you feel like he was giving up. You could tell that he wasn’t the type to give up easily. “I didn’t mean to crowd you,” he continued, understanding. “I… wanted to hang out, y’know?”
You nodded slowly, still unsure how to move past the awkward tension that had settled between you two. It was strange, feeling so seen yet so exposed. “Okay.” You took a deep breath. “I… I’m not good with all of this yet.”
Jungwon smiled at that. He didn’t push, didn’t pressure. Instead, he took a small step back, keeping a respectful distance but maintaining that comforting presence. “I get it,” he said. “But if you ever want to talk or hang out, I’m here. No rush.” He let the words hang in the air. He is willing to wait until you are ready.
You finally allowed your eyes to meet his, “Thanks,” you whispered, feeling a warmth in your chest that wasn’t just from the proximity but from the simple kindness he showed you. He wasn’t asking for more than your comfort, making everything more manageable.
“You know,” Jungwon added, “you don’t have to hide behind Minho all the time.”
You stiffened at that, but he didn’t look at you teasingly. He was stating a fact.
Your heart fluttered.
“Well, he’s taller than me,” you mumbled, trying to brush off the awkwardness.
Jungwon chuckled.
And for once, the thought of being close to Jungwon didn’t make your heart race in fear. It made it race in something else.
Something a little more hopeful.
💌
The group had decided to take a little break from basically everything that happened, and everyone was now scattered across the dorm’s common area. Kitty and Minho were sitting on the couch, though something was different. Minho had his arm casually draped over the back of the sofa, and Kitty leaned slightly toward him, her attention entirely on whatever they were discussing.
You couldn’t help but watch, caught up in the dynamic between them. It was so apparent that they were getting close. Too close, really. You glanced at them for a few seconds longer than you probably should have, a little uncomfortable with how natural they looked together, especially considering the little tension between them.
You shook your head and sighed. “Those two should just get together already,” you muttered. “It’s painful to watch.” You didn’t even realize you had said it aloud until Jungwon, standing nearby, chuckled softly.
“You seem to be invested in their situation. ”
You froze and blushed immediately. “What? No! I—” You stammered. “It’s awkward, you know? With everything going on with Yuri and all that. It’d be easier if they just figured it out.”
Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “You sure? Sounds like you’re a little too invested,” his smirk growing.
You looked away quickly. “I’m not. I think… it’s obvious, don’t you think?”
Jungwon leaned back. “Hm. Interesting. You know, Kitty might take that as a challenge. She likes playing matchmaker.” He paused, glancing at the two on the couch before returning to you. “But then again, maybe it’s you who should be matched with someone.”
Your heart skipped a beat, and you shot a look at him, trying to keep your cool. “What are you talking about?” You weren’t sure if you were ready for whatever joke or comment he was about to make.
With a shrug. “I don’t know… It’d be painful to watch you and me, right?”
You were trying to make sense of his words. Was he joking? Was he serious?
Before you could respond, Jungwon gave you a playful smile. “Well, maybe not. We’re not so bad, right?” His eyes seemed to challenge you to call him out on it.
You couldn’t stop the nervous laugh that escaped your lips. “I… I don’t know what you mean,” you said quickly. Your thoughts felt muddled, and your stomach flipped in a way you weren’t quite ready to admit.
Jungwon leaned closer just a little. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ll figure out what’s happening between you and… well, someone, someday.”
The way he said that last part made your heart flutter, and before you could think too much about it, you quickly stood up, awkwardly brushing past him to talk to Dae. You couldn’t handle being near him anymore, not with his strange comment.
💌
It had been one of those nights where everything felt like it was building up to something. The group had decided to sneak out, and of course, Kitty had the whole thing planned out. Again. She was determined to get you and Jungwon alone for a little confession moment, even if it meant dragging everyone else into a mini adventure. The plan was simple: sneak out to the park for a midnight stroll.
The group managed to sneak out without much trouble, or so they thought. Kitty was already ahead, while Minho, Q, Dae, and Yuri followed, all too eager to escape their studies. You padded behind them. But suddenly, just as you were about to turn the corner toward the door, you heard footsteps approaching from the hallway.
“Someone’s coming!” you hissed and panic started rising in your chest. You froze, unsure of what to do, until a pair of warm hands quickly grabbed you from behind, pulling you into the nearest room and closing the door softly.
You looked up to see Jungwon standing there. His gaze was serious momentarily before it softened into that usual mischievous smile. “Close call,” he whispered.
You sighed in relief but your heart was still pounding from the adrenaline. “I didn’t think it would be this hard to sneak out,” you muttered.
Jungwon stepped closer, and the space between you grew smaller. “Kitty really knows how to get us into trouble, doesn’t she?” he smiled gently.
You laughed nervously. “She’s persistent, I’ll give her that. I don’t know how she does it.” You couldn’t help but glance down. “I should probably—” you began to mumble but Jungwon interrupted you
“You don’t have to run away this time,” he murmured and you felt his thumb gently brushing your cheek. “You can stay with me.”
Your heart skipped a beat at the words, and before you could even process their whole meaning, Jungwon leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in the softest, most gentle kiss you’d ever experienced. The world seemed to stop for a moment.
You stood there, frozen, your eyes wide in shock as Jungwon pulled back slightly, but only enough to look at you with a tender look, “You were going to say something, right?” Jungwon whispered
You were unable to form words. You couldn’t find anything to say except for the obvious truth that had been sitting in your chest for so long. “I… I’ve liked you for a while,” you finally admitted in a whisper. “I didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t think you’d… feel the same.”
Jungwon smiled and leaned his forehead against yours. “I feel the same,” he said softly. “I’ve been trying to find the right moment to tell you… but I guess this is as good a time as any.”
You smiled as you leaned into him, both chuckling in silence. For the first time, it felt like the weight had been lifted, and everything had finally fallen into place.
💌
The next day, you and Jungwon walked through campus hand in hand. You didn’t care about the curious glances or whispers around you. Everything felt so natural now. Jungwon’s thumb gently brushed against your hand, and you couldn’t help but smile at the small but significant change in your relationship.
As you turned the corner, you spotted Kitty and Q sitting at their usual spot by the fountain. They looked up at you two simultaneously, eyes widening in shock as they saw your hands intertwined. Kitty’s face immediately broke into a smile, while Q’s jaw dropped slightly. “Oh my god!” Kitty squealed with her voice a few octaves higher than usual as she stood up quickly. “It’s official! You two are—?”
You giggled and nodded. “Yep, it’s real. Took us a while, but we finally figured it out.”
Q was still in shock and blinked a few times before recovering. “Wait, is this the part where you two act all coy about it?” he teased.
Jungwon chuckled and shrugged slightly as he looked down at you with an affectionate gaze. “Guess so,” he said casually. “But it feels good. Finally.”
Kitty, her excitement never waning, jumped up and clapped her hands together. “I knew it! I knew you two would be perfect for each other. I mean, come on, how could you not be?”
You smiled as you felt a little shy under all their attention. “Yeah, well, it’s thanks to Kitty here,” you said, turning toward her with a grateful look. “She practically forced us to get our act together.”
Kitty just shrugged. “Hey, someone had to step in. You two were taking forever.”
You then decided to have a little fun with Q. Turning to him with a smirk; you said, “Oh, and by the way, Q, now that we’re all on the same page… maybe it’s time you and Jin finally get together.”
Kitty gasped, and Q’s face immediately turned beet red. “I—what? No! That’s—no!” he sputtered
Jungwon raised an eyebrow. “You know, I’ve noticed that too. You and Jin make a good pair,” he said honestly.
Q looked like he was about to explode, “I hate him!” he said. “You better not tell Jin I said that.”
You chuckled at his reaction. “Oh, don’t worry. We won’t say a thing… for now.”
Still practically bouncing with excitement, Kitty turned to Jungwon with a warm smile. “Okay, I’ll take the credit for this one,” she said with a wink. “But I’m happy you two finally figured it out.”
Jungwon gave Kitty a genuine look, squeezing your hand as he thanked her. “Honestly, thank you, Kitty. You really did help us get here.”
Kitty’s face softened and she laughed lightly. “Of course! I’m just happy to see you two so happy together.”
At that moment, everything felt perfect. You were with Jungwon and were surrounded by friends who were happy for you. It felt like the start of something new and beautiful, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for everything that had led up to this moment. “Alright, alright,” you said, leaning into Jungwon as you all settled back down to enjoy the rest of the day. “Let’s just say that Kitty’s matchmaking skills are unmatched.”
Kitty shot you a wink. “Told you.”
And for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything was finally falling into place.
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minniesfiles · 3 days ago
Text
BLOOM WITH YOU | month 0
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After years of heartbreak and disappointment, you and your husband’s dream of starting a family seemed out of reach. But miracle was a beautiful thing.
❧ PAIRING; wonwoo x reader
❧ GENRE; angst, fluff, smut
❧ TAGS/WARNINGS; heavy angst in this chapter, arguing, lots of tears, mention of blood, mention of miscarriages, mention of fertility issues, generally very sad and emotional chapter, wonwoo being a caring hubby :( , penetrative sex, missionary, squirting, creampie, love-making
❧ WORDCOUNT; 8k
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series masterlist
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𐚁₊⊹
▍24 MAY 2025 — [present]
You always thought your life was the kind people envied. You had the checklist: a career you enjoyed, a loving husband who kissed your forehead every morning, and a circle of family and friends who were there for every celebration and every stumble. It was the life you dreamed of when you were younger, the one where you imagined adulthood to be a smooth, perfect path.
Yet there was a piece of puzzle that seemed to leave the entire picture of your life incomplete, and without it you couldn’t rest.
You’ve been searching for it for three years, but it was buried somewhere deep in the unknown. And the longer you desperately tried to dig through every corner of the earth, the more exhausted you grew — physically and mentally.
Yet still, you didn’t want to stop. You couldn’t give up.
It was midnight, and you were sitting by the window for hours with your knees to your chest, watching the rain pour heavily. You didn’t bother to turn on more lights or even check the time because your mind was elsewhere. You were waiting for something — anything — to break the silence that had grown deafening over the years.
And just then, you heard the sound of the front door opening. Your body stiffened, and your head snapped towards the source of the noise. He was finally home.
You watched your husband step into the house and noticed that he was slightly soaked. He must have walked from the car to the house in the rain without an umbrella, and for a brief moment, you wondered if he had even cared to shield himself.
But your anger was quicker to rise. Three hours. He finished work three hours ago. You were sitting here, waiting, as you did so many nights before, wondering where he was and why he didn’t come home. The excuses were always the same — delays, errands, last-minute shoots.
But a human could only sit and endure for so long before they reach their breaking point, and tonight was it.
You stood up abruptly and made your way towards him. Your bare feet made no sound against the floor, but your furious presence was loud. “Where the hell were you?” you barked.
Wonwoo stopped in his tracks, his wide shoulders sagging as he let out a tired sigh. He placed his keys on the table by the door, but he didn’t dare to meet your gaze. His exhaustion was imprinted onto his face, in the slight droop of his eyelids, the heaviness in his movements. He rubbed the back of his neck as water dripped from his fingers onto the floor.
“I don’t want to do this right now,” he muttered with his deep voice.
Your eyes narrowed and your anger flared hotter. “You don’t want to do this right now?” you repeated as your voice rose.
“You think I wanted to sit here for hours, wondering where you were? You finished work three hours ago. What the hell were you doing?”
“I was driving around,” he admitted after a moment, his voice barely audible over the rain hitting against the glass windows. “I needed to clear my head.”
Your laugh was short and bitter, and filled with disbelief. “Clear your head? Must be nice, having the luxury to escape whenever you feel like it while I sit here drowning in everything that’s wrong with our lives!”
Wonwoo’s head snapped up at your words, and for the first time, he looked at you directly. His eyes were tired, but there was frustration in there too.
“Don’t make this about me,” he said with a sharp tone. “You think this is easy for me? You think I don’t feel the same things you do?”
“Then why don’t you act like it? Why don’t you talk to me instead of running off and leaving me here to deal with it alone?” you questioned as you stood with a defensive posture.
“Because every time we talk, it turns into this,” he shot back, his voice rising slightly. “A fight. Blaming each other for something neither of us can control.”
As the unspoken truth was finally exposed, the silence that followed was immediate and suffocating. Your once-bright vision of starting a family turned into a relentless cycle of pain and resentment. The hope that had once bound you together now only reminded you of what you both couldn’t have.
Three long years of trying had left its mark — never-ending doctor’s appointments, treatments, and reassurances that never felt enough. Your patience had been tested at every social gathering where friends shared pregnancy announcements, and with each passing year, the gap between your expectations and reality widened.
You both endured the isolation and the pain of waiting together, hoping for something that stubbornly refused to arrive. And now, in the wake of another failed attempt, your shared grief threatened to consume what little remained of your hope and connection.
You felt your throat tighten as your anger threatened to give way to tears. But you refused to cry, refused to let yourself appear weak. “You’ve given up,” you said quietly. You tried to sound firm but your trembling voice betrayed you. “You’ve stopped trying.”
Wonwoo’s expression softened slightly as he stepped closer to meet your eyes properly. “I haven’t given up,” he said. “But what do you want me to do? Keep pushing until we destroy what’s left of us? We’re tearing each other apart over something we can’t change.”
You shook your head, and your hands trembled as you tried to hold onto your anger. However, you knew he was right, so his words struck a deep chord within you. Both of you were worn out and, in your own ways, broken. Neither of you could seem to get around the distance left by the dream that once united you together.
In the end, the tears you were holding back finally spilled over.
“You don’t get it,” you said with a whisper. “I feel like I’ve failed. Like I’m the reason this isn’t happening for us. And every time you pull away, it just makes me feel more alone.”
Wonwoo’s face softened further, and he reached out for your hand, but you stepped back. “Don’t,” your voice cracked. “Don’t act like everything’s fine. It’s not fine.”
“I know it’s not,” he said as his hand dropped to his side. “I’m not pretending it is. But I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t know how to fix us.”
The rain outside seemed to grow louder, and the intensifying storm reflected the emotions between you both. You turned away and wrapped your arms around yourself as your body shook with silent sobs. You felt him watching you, felt the space between you that grew wider as each string of hope was cut off.
“It’s not supposed to be this way,” you whimpered. “We had plans. We had dreams. We were supposed to have a family by now, to be happy. But everything feels…broken.”
Wonwoo stood there for a moment, watching you as if he were searching for the right words. Then, slowly, he dropped the bag he was holding and stepped forward. You didn’t hear him move, didn’t feel him until his arms wrapped around you from behind.
His hold on you was warm and strong, and his muscular arms wrapped around your small frame as if he was trying to hold you together when you couldn’t.
At first, you tensed up, taken by surprise, but then you turned around and melted into him, letting your tears soak his chest. “I’m sorry,” he murmured against her hair, “I’m so sorry baby.”
You shook your head as your sobs muffled against his chest. “I’m scared,” you admitted. “I’m scared we’ll never get to start a family like we dreamed. I’m scared we’re never going to be okay again. That we’re never going to be enough for each other.”
He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, feeling his own tears rolling down his cheeks. “But you’re enough for me my love” he said, his voice breaking. “You’ve always been enough for me. I just…I don’t know how to make this better.”
As much as Wonwoo wanted to comfort you with reassurance, he could keep his feelings locked away all the time. This was the honest he could get.
You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him through your tear-streaked face. His red and glistening eyes met yours, and you saw the pain, the love, the desperation in them. Like your own.
“I don’t want to lose you,” you cried silently.
“You won’t,” he promised as his hands cupped your face. “We’re in this together. No matter what. Remember the promise we made on our wedding day?” he asked, and you nodded slowly,
“We’ll be okay”
You went to sleep that night, with your head resting on your husband’s shoulder while his arms were securely wrapped around your waist, thinking back to the day when everything started to fall apart. The memories played over and over like a cruel loop.
How badly you wished it was just a bad dream, a sickening nightmare that you’d shake off upon waking. But it wasn’t. It was real. The pain was too sharp, too vivid to be an illusion. And as much as you wished to escape it, every time you closed your eyes you were forced to face the harshness of it all.
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▍1 JUNE 2022 — [3 years ago]
You hummed to yourself as you sliced through a bundle of fresh spring onions. It was a peaceful evening, and you were excited for your husband to come home from his photoshoot. He’d been working so hard lately and you wanted to treat him with his favorite dish — a noce pot of kimchi jjigae.
Cooking has become your comforting hobby lately ever since you found out you were pregnant. While Wonwoo was out for his clients’ photoshoots, you would stay at home to make his favourite meals so he could enjoy them when he returned home.
As you stirred the pot on the stove, your free hand instinctively went to your small, round belly. At twelve weeks pregnant, you had just begun to notice the subtle changes in your body. It was a surprise you didn’t expect, a blessing you both dreamed of.
As you reached for the ladle, a sudden sharp, searing pain shot through your lower abdomen. Your hand flew to your stomach, and you doubled over, gasping for air. The ladle slipped from your hand and clattered onto the floor.
It was just a cramp. That was what you told yourself. The pregnancy books said cramps were normal. You leaned against the counter and tried to breathe through the discomfort. But then it came again, this time sharper, radiating down your lower back. Your knees buckled, and you had to grip the counter to keep yourself upright.
The warmth between your legs came next, and it was unmistakable and terrifying. You staggered back and looked down to see blood staining your leggings. A wave of panic overtook you.
“No, no, no,” you whispered with your trembling voice. Your breathing became ragged, the pain was becoming sharper and incessant. The blood was so red, so graphic against the kitchen tile.
Your phone was on the table, a few feet away. You shuffled toward it with your blurring vision. With your hands shaking uncontrollably, you tapped on Wonwoo’s number and held your breath as the phone rang.
Once. Twice. Six times. No answer.
You knew Wonwoo barely checked his phone while working, but this was urgent. You needed him badly.
Your chest tightened. “Wonwoo, please,” you whimpered, and your voice cracked as the call went to voicemail. You tried again, but the phone rang endlessly. The pain grew worse, and tears blurred your vision almost completely. The world around you felt like it was spinning out of control.
On the third try, he finally answered. “Hey babe, sorry I was busy. What’s up?” Wonwoo said with a casual voice. You tried to speak, but the words were choking inside your throat.
“Babe? Are you okay?” his voice shifted, becoming tense.
“Y/n?”
“I—” your voice was barely a whisper, and the effort it took to speak felt huge.
Another wave of pain crashed over you that pulled a strangled cry from your lips. You couldn’t hold the phone anymore. Your phone slipped from your hand and fell onto the floor. You tried to pick it up, but your vision darkened around the edges, and before you could say anything more, everything went black.
When you woke, the first thing you noticed was the overwhelming brightness. The sharp light in your eyes made you wince and turn your head. Your body felt unnaturally heavy, and your limbs stiff, and a dull ache throbbed in your abdomen. When the sterile smell of antiseptic hit your nostrils, you realised that you weren’t at home.
“Honey?” Wonwoo’s voice was hoarse, and it was filled with a mixture of relief and anguish.
He was sitting beside your bed with his hand wrapped tightly around yours. His face was pale, his eyes were bloodshot and rimmed with dark circles. His usual calm and confident demeanor was gone. Instead, it was replaced by a fragile, broken man. Something you haven’t seen in a long time since his grandmother passed away a few years back.
You swallowed hard, but your throat was dry. “Wonwoo?” you rasped.
“Hey, I'm here,” he said quickly and leaned closer. “I'm right here baby. You're okay. You're safe.”
You tried to sit up, but the effort made your head swim. “What…what happened?” you asked.
Wonwoo’s face crumpled, and he squeezed your hand tighter as he used his other hand to brush a strand of hair from your damp forehead.
“You called me,” he began. “I-I didn't know what was wrong, but when you stopped talking, I rushed home. You were on the floor, Y/n. There was blood everywhere” his voice cracked as he spoke, and he looked away, swallowing hard.
“I called an ambulance, and they brought you here.”
The air felt heavy after that. Heavy with something unsaid. You could feel it — his silence, the pain etched into every line of his face. Then, your hand instinctively moved to your stomach, feeling dread creeping into your chest.
“The baby,” you whispered with a trembling voice. “Wonwoo…is the baby okay?”
Wonwoo’s breath hitched as he froze. For a moment, he didn’t answer. He couldn’t meet your eyes. Instead, he let out a choked sob, and his body shook as he leaned forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His tears were warm against your skin, almost like you could feel his grief soaking into your skin.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so, so sorry.”
Your heart stopped, and your whole body went cold as the meaning of his words sank in. “No,” you said, shaking your head. Your voice rose in panic and disbelief.
“No, that’s not true. Don’t say that Wonwoo. Don’t you dare say that.”
He pulled back with his face streaked with tears, and tried to cup your cheeks, but you pushed his hands away. “No!” you cried. “The baby’s fine. The baby has to be fine. Tell me the baby’s fine!”
Your hands moved to your stomach, feeling for something — anything — that would prove him wrong. But there was nothing. The flatness of your abdomen, and the emptiness you felt, confirmed the truth you desperately wanted to deny.
“Y/n,” Wonwoo said softly, his voice pleading, “please…”
“No!” your scream echoed through the hospital room. You began to sob uncontrollably, shaking your head as if doing so could erase the reality of what had happened.
“No, no, no! I can’t…I can’t lose the baby!”
Your husband reached for you and pulled you into his arms as you fell apart. You hit his chest weakly with your fists as your sobs muffled against him.
“It’s not fair,” you cried, “why did this happen? Why?”
Wonwoo’s own grief broke free, and he began to cry loudly, his body shuddering as he held onto you. His cries were unfiltered and guttural, the kind of pain that came from losing something that could never be replaced.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered through his tears. “I’m so sorry my love. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t save you. I couldn’t save our baby.”
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▍31 DECEMBER 2024 — [ 5 months ago]
It felt like deja vu, but worse. You sat on the hospital bed as you blankly stared out of the window. You could hear the monitors beeping and the muffled voices of nurses outside the door. To you, it might as well have been the exact one where your heart had broken all those other times.
You were supposed to be celebrating New Year’s Eve with your friends and family, hoping and praying the new year to come would be filled with joy you deserved with your baby. Yet, here you were, in the same room you were in all these years ago — the same white walls and the same faint scent of disinfectant.
The world outside carried on like nothing happened. The snow continued to drift down from the sky, covering everything in white. Somewhere out there, people were laughing, drinking, counting down the hours until midnight. They were making resolutions, clinking glasses, kissing and hugging their loved ones.
But here in this suffocating space, you felt as if time was frozen. There was no celebration, no fresh start. Just loss.
For the sixth time.
But you didn’t cry. You had no tears left. You didn’t scream or wail or ask why like you did all those other times. The grief settled into your bones so deeply that it didn’t need to be expressed anymore. It became a part of you, as much as your blood and breath.
Across the room, Wonwoo sat in a chair with his face buried in his hands. His body shook as he silently sobbed, and his fingers gripped his hair as though he could somehow pull himself back together. He had always been your rock, the one who always reassured you even when his own voice cracked.
But it all seemed too much to keep himself together. He was completely torn.
“I don’t understand,” he choked out between sobs, “why does this keep happening?”
You didn’t answer. You didn’t move. You just kept staring out at the snow with your hands resting limply in your lap.
This was supposed to be the one. The doctors said this pregnancy was strong, that the baby’s heartbeat was steady, that things looked promising. For the first time in years, you allowed yourself to hope — really hope.
And now, that hope was dimmed. Again.
The door opened softly, and Dr. Jung stepped inside. She was your doctor through all six pregnancies. Each time, she was the one to deliver the devastating news, and each time, her expression had grown wearier. Now, she looked almost as broken as you and Wonwoo did.
Wonwoo wiped his face and sat up straighter. His hands were still shaking as he reached for yours, but you didn’t react to his touch.
Dr. Jung hesitated for a moment before speaking, like she was trying to find the right words. But there were no right words.
“Y/n…Wonwoo,” she began gently. “I’m so, so sorry for your loss.”
Wonwoo inhaled a sharp breath and blinked back fresh tears that threatened to fall. But you didn’t blink.
Dr. Jung shifted in her chair as her hands clasped together tightly. “I know you’ve been through this so many times before,” she continued, her voice laced with sorrow. “And I can’t imagine how much pain you’re in right now. But we finally have some answers.”
Wonwoo’s body stiffened, and his grip tightened on your lifeless hand. “What do you mean?” he asked with his hoarse voice.
Dr. Jung exhaled softly. “The tests we ran after your last miscarriage, and the scans we did earlier this time, have given us a clearer picture. Y/n, your womb has an abnormal structure. It’s something we hadn’t been able to see before with certainty, but now we can.”
The words floated in the air like smoke, curling around and suffocating you. Wonwoo frowned and shook his head as if trying to make sense of the given information.
“What kind of abnormality?” he asked, his voice shaking. “Why didn’t anyone see this before?”
Dr. Jung’s expression softened. “It’s not something that always presents clearly in routine scans. But in Y/n’s case, the shape of her uterus makes it difficult for a pregnancy to progress past a certain point. The risk of miscarriage is significantly higher.”
Wonwoo felt his breath get caught in his throat. He the. turned to you and searched your face, but you were still staring out the window. And for the first time since he had known you, It was hard for him to read what you were feeling. And it broke him.
“There are treatment options,” Dr. Jung continued softly.
“In some cases, surgery can help. But…I need to be honest with you both. Even with intervention, the risk of miscarriage will always be there. It may be lower, but it won’t disappear completely.”
Wonwoo let out a shaky breath as his hands tightened into fists. “So you’re saying...it might never happen for us?”
Dr. Jung hesitated. “I’m saying that it will be much more difficult than for most couples. And I want you both to be prepared for that reality.”
You finally blinked. Your lips parted slightly, but you still didn’t speak.
You should have felt something — anger, sorrow, frustration — but there was only a vast emptiness inside you. You always thought you were cursed the second time it happened, that you were just unlucky, that fate was cruel.
But now that there was a medical explanation, you understood that it was your body. Your own body had been betraying you all these years.
Dr. Jung reached out and placed a hand over your cold one. “I know this is a lot to process. You don’t have to make any decisions right now. Just take the time you need to grieve.”
You slowly turned your head towards the doctor, and your voice finally surfaced after what felt like an eternity. “So, you’re saying I was never meant to be a mother?” you whispered. The words were quiet, but they cut through the room like a knife.
Wonwoo’s face crumpled. “No, honey, don’t say that—”
Dr. Jung shook her head quickly. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. Many women with uterine abnormalities go on to have successful pregnancies. It’s just more complicated, and we would need to explore options very carefully.”
You absorbed the words, but they felt far like they were being spoken through a fog.
Wonwoo reached for your hand again and squeezed it tightly. “We’ll find a way,” he pleaded. “Even if we have to try again, even if it’s hard, we’ll find a way.”
Your eyes met his then, and for the first time all night, you let yourself feel the burden of his sorrow. His hope. His desperation.
“We said that last time,” you murmured.
Wonwoo’s face crinkled, and his body shuddered with another silent sob. He didn’t argue, because he knew you were right. You both said it last time. And the time before. And the time before that.
Dr. Jung sighed softly as she stood up. “I’ll leave you both alone for now. If you need anything, just call.”
She left the room quietly and closed the door behind her. The silence that followed was unbearable.
Wonwoo finally stood up and paced towards the window. He placed a hand against the glass and looked outside at the city below. The sky was glowing with fireworks, filled with explosions of red, blue, and gold painting the night. The world was celebrating the new year that just began.
People were cheering and kissing as they welcomed the new year with laughter and joy. And here you were, drowning in loss and misfortune.
You watched the fireworks for a moment, then turned back to your husband. His shoulders were shaking again while his forehead was pressed against the glass. You should have gone to him, should have wrapped your arms around him.
But you couldn’t move.
“I don’t think I can do this again” your voice came out flat and emotionless.
Wonwoo turned to you with his eyes filled with grief. “Y/n—”
“I can’t Wonwoo” you whispered through your cracked voice. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep hoping just to have it ripped away. I can’t keep watching you fall apart because of me.”
He was in front of you in an instant, kneeling beside the bed as his hands cupped your face. “Baby this isn’t your fault. It’s not because of you.”
Tears finally spilled down your cheeks. “But it is. My body…it’s broken Wonwoo”
His own tears fell freely as he kissed your hands, your forehead, your cheeks, and lastly your pale chapped lips. “You are not broken, my love” he whispered.
“And we will figure this out. Even if it’s different than what we imagined, we will figure it out together, okay? Please don't give up.”
You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe that there was still something to fight for. But as the fireworks exploded outside, all you could feel was the weight of six losses.
You didn’t know how to carry it anymore.
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▍30 MAY 2025 — [present]
The sun was warm against your skin, while the gentle breezes swayed your brown locks all over the place. It was a beautiful day, the kind of day that should have made you feel light and at peace. But peace was hard to find for the past few years.
You sat cross-legged on your checkered picnic blanket, your fingers absentmindedly running through your husband’s hair as he lay on his back with his head resting on your lap.
Wonwoo was talking with his deep comforting voice, he was weaving stories from your past. He talked about memories of when you were both younger and happier. He spoke about your first date and how you were nervous as you sat in the tiny café, your hands inches apart as both waited for the other to close the distance. He reminded you of your honeymoon in Singapore, especially when you would both run into the ocean at midnight.
But you weren’t listening.
Your eyes were locked on a family that you noticed walking down the paved path in front of you. A man and a woman were holding hands, and between them were their two children.
The older girl, no more than five, pointed excitedly at something in the distance, and her laughter rang like wind chimes in the warm summer air. The younger boy, perhaps two, held to his mother’s side with his tiny fingers gripping her dress as he looked up at her with wide, adoring eyes.
You felt your chest tighten. It was the kind of family you always dreamed of having for yourself and Wonwoo. But fate had other plans.
Your fingers in your husband's hair came to a halt as your touch grew still.
The familiar suffocating ache settled in your chest, and it made it hard for you to breathe. Your throat felt constricted, and before you could stop it, a single tear rolled down your cheek.
Wonwoo’s voice trailed off. He had been mid-sentence as he told you about some ridiculous thing your neighbour did last week, but when he felt your fingers go still, when he noticed the shift in your breathing, his body tensed.
“Baby?” he called softly, tilting his head slightly to look up at you. But you didn’t respond. Your gaze remained locked on the family with your glassy eyes.
Wonwoo sat up slowly and shifted his weight until he was kneeling in front of you. His hands cupped your face and gently turned you away from the sight before you could spiral again further into pain.
“Hey,” he whispered, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks to wipe away the stray tears that escaped. “Look at me.”
You blinked as your focus shifted to him, but the sadness in your eyes remained. Wonwoo swallowed a hard lump, feeling his own chest tightening. He saw that look too many times before. He had felt that pain too.
The past five months were a battle — a slow, painful process of trying to piece yourselves back together after yet another devastating loss.
Six times. You lost six babies. And this time felt different. It was heavier, as if something inside you shattered beyond repair.
Wonwoo took time off work, just for you. And he planned this picnic in hopes — praying — that it would be a step toward healing. But now, as he looked at the sorrow in your eyes, he knew that no amount of warm sunlight or gentle breezes could erase the pain you carried.
He let out a slow, shaky breath and pressed his forehead against yours. “Please baby,” he murmured. “Talk to me.”
You closed your eyes as more tears slipped free. “I thought I was doing better,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “I thought I was learning how to live with it.”
Wonwoo tightened his hold on your face a little. “You don’t have to pretend with me, love.”
You exhaled shakily. “I see them, and I wonder if that will ever be us.”
He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “I wonder the same thing,” he admitted. “Every single day.”
You let out a soft, broken sound — half sob, half sigh. “I hate feeling like this,” you confessed. “I hate how every happy family feels like a reminder of what we’ve lost.”
Wonwoo’s hands trailed down your waist, squeezing gently. “I know baby, I know.”
You then met his sad gaze, and looked for something — reassurance, hope, anything that could ease the ache inside you. “Do you ever think we should stop trying?”
The question was sharp and straightforward that made Wonwoo mentally wince.
Wonwoo’s jaw tightened. He asked himself that question before in the quiet hours of the night when he lay awake, staring at the ceiling, listening to your soft, uneven breathing beside him. He thought about what it would mean to let go of the dream you had held for so long.
But letting go felt impossible.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I do know that I don’t want to lose us.”
Your breath hitched. “I don’t either.”
Wonwoo reached for your hands and laced your fingers together. “Then we take it one day at a time. We stop thinking about what’s ahead and just focus on now. On us.”
You looked down at your intertwined hands, and then back up at him. “And if we never get there?”
His throat tightened. He didn’t have an answer for that.
But instead of speaking, he leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “Then we figure out what ‘there’ looks like for us,” he whispered against your skin.
A fresh wave of tears rolled down your cheeks, but this time, you didn’t try to hold them back. You let yourself lean into him, let yourself be held.
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▍1 AUGUST 2025
The motion of the crochet hook moving through the soft pink yarn was almost hypnotic. Over and under, loop and pull. You worked in silence as your fingers moved with precision. It was a hobby that you picked up when you were ten, and you often praised yourself at how good you were at it.
You weren’t making anything for anyone in particular. There was no baby waiting for this tiny cardigan. No expectant nursery filled with soft toys and pastel colors. No little hands that would reach for you, no sleepy eyes that would blink up at you in the dead of night.
But still, you crocheted.
The soft yarn draped and pooled over your lap. The cardigan was small and delicate, made for a child who would never wear it. And yet, you kept going, because what else was there to do?
You stopped counting the days since the last you lost your baby, but the grief never truly left you. It was in everything you did, every thought you had.
When you cooked dinner, you thought about how you would have needed to make something different for a toddler. When you went to bed, you thought about how you would have been waking up to cries in the middle of the night.
Even now, sitting in your quiet home, crocheting, you thought about the tiny fingers that would have reached for the soft wool.
A deep sigh left your lips and your hands paused as you traced the fabric with your fingertips. The baby cardigan was almost finished. Just a few more rows, a few buttons to attach, and it would be complete.
But complete for who?
The unanswerable question kept lingering in your mind.
Before you could let your thoughts settle in too deeply, you heard the sound of footsteps out in the hallway. The door then creaked open, and you looked up, startled.
It was Wonwoo, standing in the doorway with a wide grin on his face. He was wearing a birthday hat that was slightly crooked on his head, and in his hands, he carried a cake. It was small, homemade, and slightly uneven, with a single candle lit on top.
His voice then began to fill the quiet dimmed room as he began to sing. Wonwoo made his way towards you as he sang, and his eyes were twinkling with love.
“Happy birthday to you.”
“Happy birthday to you.”
“Happy birthday my dear Y/n.”
“Happy birthday to you.”
You blinked in confusion, and then realisation. Your birthday. You forgot — of course you did.
When he reached the end of the song, he knelt in front of you and held the cake out with both hands.
“Make a wish, baby,” he murmured softly.
A lump formed in your throat as you looked at the cake. It wasn’t from a bakery — that you knew was obvious by looking at it. The frosting was unequal, some areas were too thick, and others were too thin. There was a smudge of chocolate near the base where he likely tried to fix a mistake.
He made it himself, and it made you tear up even more.
Wonwoo must have noticed, because he shifted a little in slight embarrassment. “I, uh…I did my best,” he admitted with a sheepish chuckle. “I know it’s not perfect, but—”
“It’s perfect,” you cut him off with a broken whisper, and Wonwoo’s expression softened instantly.
You inhaled shakily as you stared at the candle’s flame. You hadn’t made a birthday wish in years. Not since the first miscarriage. Every year, you wished for the same thing. A baby. A chance to be a mother. A chance to keep what you lost so many times.
But the universe didn’t listen.
Your hands trembled a little as you closed your eyes. And then, for the first time in years, you made a different wish.
You wished for peace. For healing. For the strength to move forward, even when it felt impossible.
Opening your eyes, you leaned forward and blew out the candle. The flame flickered once, then disappeared.
Wonwoo carefully placed the cake on the coffee table before turning back to you. He noticed the tears streaming down your cheeks and frowned. Without hesitation, he reached warm hands for you and he cupped your face, wiping your tears away with his thumbs.
His touch was so tender it made you melt into it. He knew exactly what was making you sad. He always knew. His eyes drifted downward for a moment, landing on the small pink cardigan in your lap.
His chest tightened.
You saw the way his expression changed — the way his own pain surfaced.
“Woo…” you started weakly. But he didn’t let you finish.
Instead, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. It wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was slow, full of love, and full of the things neither of you could always say out loud.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and you felt his breath warm against your slightly swollen lips.
“I hate seeing you sad on your birthday,” he murmured. “I just…I wanted today to be a good day for you.”
You let out a shaky breath. “It is a good day” you replied.
He pulled back a little and stared at your face. “You don’t have to say that.”
You gave him a small, sad smile. “But I mean it. You made it a good day.”
His thumb brushed over your cheek which lingered just beneath your eye. “I just want you to be okay.”
You swallowed hard as you glanced down at the cardigan once more. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay,” you admitted. “Not completely.”
Wonwoo’s hold on you tightened. “Then I’ll stay with you until you are. For however long it takes.”
Tears cascaded down your cheeks again, but this time, they weren’t just from sadness. They were from love. From gratitude. From knowing that, even in the darkest moments, you weren’t alone.
Wonwoo exhaled softly, looking at the half-finished cardigan. “Do you want to talk about it?”
You hesitated, but then nodded. “I just…I don’t know why I keep making them,” you said, running your fingers over the fabric. “It’s not like anyone will wear them.”
Wonwoo was quiet for a moment before reaching down and picking up the cardigan. He turned it over in his hands and studied it carefully.
“It’s beautiful,” he murmured.
You let out a soft, breathy laugh. “It’s unfinished.”
“So?” he lifted it slightly and inspected the delicate stitches. “It still matters.”
“Why?” you looked at him with your heart aching.
Wonwoo met your gaze, “because it’s proof that you love them,” he said simply. “All of them. And that matters.”
You stopped breathing for a second. You never thought about it like that. For so long, you crocheted these tiny garments in silence, never daring to say what they truly meant to you. But Wonwoo always understood.
He placed the cardigan gently back in your lap and kissed your forehead. “We don’t have to figure everything out today,” he whispered. “But whatever happens next…we do it together.”
You nodded slowly as your fingers tightened around the soft fabric.
Together. For the first time in months, the word didn’t feel so heavy.
Wonwoo smiled as he brushed another tear from your cheek. “Now, come on. Let’s eat some of this cake before it completely falls apart.”
You let out a genuine laugh and shook your head. “I think it already has.”
Wonwoo gasped dramatically. “Wow. Rude.”
You smiled, truly smiled, and for the first time in a long time, the weight in your chest felt just a little lighter.
Maybe you were okay just yet. But with your husband by your side, maybe you would be.
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▍3 SEPTEMBER 2025
Your body trembled under the weight of his as he slowly sank himself into you. A low grunt could be heard as he pushed past the tightness he felt around your walls, and another whiny moan when he felt his tip kiss your cervix.
“Fuck” he swore under his breath as he adjusted his position while your legs and arms were wrapped around his broad body.
The weather was getting a little cooler these days, and Wonwoo could feel you slightly shivering beneath him. Grabbing the blanket that was discarded on the side of the bed earlier, he threw it over your naked bodies.
“You okay?” he asked, pulling back slightly to look at you. You slowly opened your eyes and gave him a weak nod.
Wonwoo cupped your face and his thumbs traced over your cheekbones, as if he was reassuring himself that you were real, that you were here, together, despite everything.
“I love you,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. Your lips parted slightly, like you wanted to say it back but couldn't find the words. Instead, you answered him with a kiss.
You bucked your hips upwards to motion him to move, and Wonwoo let out a small hiss as his one hand slowly trailed down to your hip while using the other to support himself upright.
Wonwoo pulled out just enough for the head of his cock to remain buried in, and then in one swift motion, he slammed himself right back in. Your mouth gaped, letting out a loud gasp.
He spread your legs wider and repositioned himself to give him better access. He grabbed both of your hands and pinned them above your head, then leaning in to press his sweaty forehead against yours.
He began to thrust in a sickeningly slow pace, deep enough for you to feel his cock brush against your cervix. Wonwoo wanted you to know, to feel, how much he loved you. With every open mouthed kiss he peppered over your lips, every deep rhythmic thrust, he wanted you to understand that nothing in this world would ever separate you from him. That he’d love you till the world ended.
“I love you so much” he whispered against your lips. Silent tears rolled down in the corner of your eyes, both in pleasure and love. But you couldn’t deny the pang of pain you felt either. It followed you like a shadow in everything that you did.
“I l-love you t-too” your voice broke, followed by a moan you couldn’t contain.
“It’s okay sweetheart, don’t hold yourself back” he reassured as he slowly picked up his speed. You intertwined your fingers tighter with his as he leaned in to bury his face in your neck once again.
“M-More” you cried out in pleasure as you squirmed beneath him.
Wonwoo’s eyes darkened, and his thrusts came to a halt as he pulled out completely. He pushed himself up on his knees, the blanket covering your bodies slipping off his back, and hooked his arms under your legs to pull you down closer.
And before you could comprehend anything, you felt him ram inside your tight hole in one go. You felt the air knock out of your lungs as you held onto his arm for dear life. Wonwoo only gave you a second or two to adjust before he began to pound into you mercilessly, the harsh sound of skin slapping and bed creaking filling your confined bedroom.
His fingers dug into your hips as he tried to maintain his pattern, but your cries and moans fed into his desire to go faster than he already was. The way your breasts bounded up and down, he couldn’t resist the urge to fondle with them. His slender fingers gently pinched at your nipple, causing you to let out a louder moan.
“D-Don’t stop b-baby” you whined.
Wonwoo leaned down and pecked your lips, “I wasn’t planning to sweetheart” he grunted.
Wonwoo knew you were starting to get overstimulated when your moans turned into sobs, and the way you pushed at his arms to beg him for a release.
You felt a tight coil form inside of you, ready to snap at any moment. “P-Please, I c-can’t. Fuck! Baby I-I can’t” you cried as you dug your nails into his biceps.
Wonwoo could feel the way your walls were clenching tighter which made it harder for him to control himself. “Let go baby” he said, pressing an open mouthed kiss on your trembling lips.
“Just let go”
And just like that, the coil finally snapped. Wonwoo pulled out just in time as you squirted all over this cock. Your screams filled the room, your hips shuddering as you continued to soak the bed sheets. Your husband watched with his hooded eyes as you unfolded, biting his lip.
It wasn’t often that you’d squirt during sex, but when you did, it was the hottest thing Wonwoo ever saw. And most of the time, he’d lose his sanity completely.
Wonwoo leaned down and gave you a sloppy kiss while his fingers trailed down to your soaked cunt. “Shh, you’re okay baby” he mumbled against your lips as he slowly rubbed your swollen clit in a circular motion.
When you finally calmed down, you let out a small sob, feeling overwhelmed. You never felt so good in a long time.
“You okay?” your husband asked, staring deeply into your eyes with a loving gaze. You gave him a nod and reached your hand out to caress his sweaty face.
With a soft smile and a peck on your lips, Wonwoo spread your legs wide once again. With one hand gripped on his thick shaft and the other resting on your cheek, he gently eased himself back inside you.
Your back arched and your arms flew to wrap around his muscular torso. His thrusts were more relaxed and slow than before, like he wanted you to understand the depth of his love for you.
“I love you” he whispered into your ear.
“And we’ll be okay.”
The world outside didn’t exist at that moment. There was no grief, no shattered dreams, no echoes of what you lost. There was only this — skin against skin, lips tracing, hands rediscovering the familiar dips and curves of each other’s bodies.
Wonwoo trailed kisses down the column of your throat, and paused at the rapid pulse beneath your skin. He lingered there and savoured the proof of life, the reminder that you were still here, still fighting, still capable of loving even after everything.
You let out a shaky breath as your hands roamed over his back, feeling the tension that lived in his muscles for far too long. You pressed soft kisses along his shoulder as a silent reassurance that you weren’t totally broken beyond repair.
This wasn’t just about making love. It was about finding your way back to each other. It was about healing in the only way you knew how.
“We’re okay,” you whispered, your voice trembling but sure.
Wonwoo swallowed hard as he rested his forehead against yours. “Yeah,” he whispered back, his fingers tightening around your waist.
“We are.”
He continued thrusting into you until he felt himself reaching his edge. His moans grew louder the closer he got to his orgasm, his eyes clenching shut as he kept his face buried in your neck.
And then, he finally felt himself snap. His movements stilled as he bursted inside you like fireworks, painting your walls white with his hot sticky cum and filling you up to the brim.
“Fuck!” he dragged on the word as he collapsed over you.
You shut your eyes and and savoured the way his cum still spurted like it was never going to end. And when it did, you felt him slowly pull out. The arousal dripping from your swollen cunt was immediate. But unlike how he always did, Wonwoo didn’t gather his cum with his fingers to push it back in. Instead, he just let it flow.
The hopes of starting a family was dimming, but it didn’t diminish completely. But now, you and Wonwoo knew that you were at a point where you knew you didn’t want to force yourselves into anything. If the universe wanted to answer your prayer, it would.
As much as it hurt, you came to accept that this was what life was. Not every dream is fulfilled, but when you have someone who loves you right next to you, heartbreak and disappointment is a little easier to overcome.
And with Wonwoo by your side, sticking to his promise he made during your wedding, life wasn’t all that miserable. In the end, he was your happiness. He was your answer to your questions. He was your everything, and right now, that mattered to you the most.
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a/n; I don’t know what to feel about the smut, it’s lowkey shit but hey I gave it a shot!
308 notes · View notes
prettygirl-gabi · 10 hours ago
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Title: Slicked Back & Smitten
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Rating: Mature Audiences
Warning: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!, spicy, wlw smut, mirror sex, Paige's biceps, paige fucking you while having you in a headlock, !top paige, !bottom reader, light oral (fem reseving), !purple strap Paige, !slick back ponytail P (yes this deserves a warning), fluff
Paring: Paige Bueckers x fem reader
Fandom: Uconn's Women's basketbal
Summary: Slicked Back ponytail P... and she's swollen in the right places too... oh you're down bad baby
Tag: @elliesglock , @elalfywhore , @paxaz535
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The morning of the UConn vs. Butler game was absolute chaos. With a 1 p.m. tip-off, I had been up at the ass crack of dawn, running errands before heading to the arena. Meanwhile, Paige was at home, usually getting her game day braids done by Kayla—her routine, her thing.
Except today, Kayla couldn’t do them she was getting over being sick, didn't wanna risk Paige getting sick.
And I? I was too busy being the responsible, errand-running girlfriend to even offer to do them myself.
So, Paige had to figure something out.
By the time I arrived at the arena, the team was already warming up. I greeted a few of the staff members before spotting Kayla on the sidelines, watching the girls get their final shots up before tip-off.
"Did you see what she did?" Kayla asked as I approached.
I was confused. "Who?"
Kayla gave me a look. "Your girlfriend."
I turned my head, scanning the court until my eyes landed on Paige in her love, Abby warm up. And, oh, did my jaw practically drop.
Instead of her signature game day braids, she had done a sleek middle-part ponytail. The gel, the clean parting, the way the ponytail laid so perfectly down her back—it was… different. It was… distracting.
I bit the inside of my cheek, shifting on my feet. "Yeah… I see her."
Kayla snickered, nudging me. "She look good, huh?"
I exhaled sharply, eyes still glued to Paige as she moved across the court, completely unaware of the effect she was having on me. The slick back? The way it emphasized her face, her jawline, her everything? Yeah, it was bad for me.
"Kayla," I started, voice low. "I don’t think you should do her braids next game either."
Kayla howled. "Oh, nah, you down bad!"
I rolled my eyes, pretending like I wasn’t already making plans to personally ensure Paige never wore braids again.
———
The first half of the game was a problem.
Paige was playing out of her mind. She was dropping dimes, hitting threes, getting to the basket with ease—and she looked damn good doing it.
I was trying to focus on the actual game, trying not to be the most obvious girlfriend ever, but every time she drove to the rim, her ponytail swung just right, her edges still perfectly laid despite how much she was sweating.
It was a crisis.
By halftime, I had reached my breaking point.
Sitting in the stands, I pulled my phone out, thumbs flying across the screen as I sent a text Paige wouldn’t see until later.
Me: You need to put me in a headlock when we get back home.
Me: And I need you to consider this slick back ponytail as your new game day hair. Like… permanently.
I hit send, exhaling as I locked my phone. Out of sight, out of mind. I just needed to get through the rest of the game without combusting.
———
Paige didn’t see the message until hours later.
After the game, she had her usual post-game press conference, with Kk and Azzii answering questions about UConn’s dominant win, her own performance, and how it felt playing without her signature braids.
Then came the locker room celebrations, the team hyping each other up, the post-game shower, and finally—finally—Paige was back at our shared off-campus apartment.
Freshly showered, she walked into the bedroom with a towel around her neck, only in her black Nike sports bra and grey boxers sitting perfectly on her waist line, scrolling through her phone finally checking all her notifications.
I was sitting on the bed, scrolling mindlessly myself, until I saw her pause.
Her head tilted. "What the hell?"
I tried to act innocent. "What?"
Paige turned her phone towards me, revealing my very suggestive text from earlier. "This," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Headlock? Really?"
I shrugged, unbothered. "You read it. You know what I said."
She huffed out a laugh, tossing her phone onto the nightstand before crawling onto the bed. She hovered over me, arms on either side of my head, that damn ponytail still sleek even after her shower.
"So," Paige mused, voice dropping slightly. "You liked the ponytail, huh?"
I reached up, running my fingers over the base of it where she had secured it with a black hair tie. "Liked? Understatement."
Paige smirked, dipping down to press a lingering kiss to my jaw. "Liked it enough to text me during halftime about puttin yo ass in a headlock?"
I exhaled sharply. "I was having a moment."
She kissed the corner of my mouth, teasing me. "Mhm. And what kind of headlock we talking about?"
I rolled my eyes, pushing her lightly. "Don’t play with me, Bueckers."
Paige chuckled, finally kissing me for real, slow and deep, before pulling back just enough to rest her forehead against mine. "So… ponytail again next game?"
I nodded immediately. "Absolutely, baby it’s your secret weapon."
She smirked, leaned closer, her lips brushing against my ear as she whispered, "Anything for you, baby. Especially when I get to have my way with you afterward."
I shivered at her words, my heart racing with anticipation. There was something intoxicating about the way she claimed me, the way she took charge. I loved every moment of it, even if it made me feel vulnerable.
Paige stood up suddenly, her playful demeanor shifting into something more commanding. “Come here,” she instructed, her voice firm yet sultry. I followed her, curiosity piqued, as she led me to the full-length mirror on the wall, right next to the bed.
“Look at yourself,” she murmured, her fingers brushing against my neck as she turned me to face the glass. I could see the reflection of us, a flush creeping across my cheeks. “You’re beautiful,” she said, her voice dropping to a low whisper. “But I want you to see what I see.”
Before I could respond, she slowly pulling my satan mini sleep dress, off revealing my body to herself as if she was claming a prize. My heart raced as I realized her intentions. “Paige…” I started, but her smirk silenced me.
“Shh,” she said, a playful glint in her eye. “Trust me, watch me the whole time, ma. ” She walked to the other bed side table to pull out the purple stap, taking the boxers off and expertly securing it around her waist.
I watched her through the Mirror not taking my eyes of her once.
“Now,” she said, walking back to me and now her breath warm against my neck, “I want you to look at yourself in the mirror and think about how good you can be for me.”
She wrapped her strong arms around me, pulling me back against her chest, and I found my breath catching in my throat as I felt her biceps flex around my head.
“Paige, I—”
“Good girls do what they’re told,” she interrupted playfully, flexing her biceps around my chin so I could look up see my own reflection. “Look at you. So pretty, so willing. You’re perfect just like this.”
I gazed into the mirror, my heart pounding as I saw the way she held me—her strength juxtaposed against my vulnerability. I felt a rush of heat surge through me.
“Tell me what you see,” Paige urged, her voice steady yet sultry. “I want to hear you say it.”
“I see…” I hesitated, caught between the thrill of her hold and the desire to please her. “I see… me. I see us.”
“Good girl,” she praised, her voice dripping with satisfaction. I could feel the tension in her body, the way she leaned into me, the heat radiating off her. “Now, tell me how much you want me.”
“I want you, Paige,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. The honesty of my desire sent a thrill through me, igniting a fire that burned deep within. “I want you to fuck me.”
“See? Was that so hard?” she teased, her lips brushing against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “You’re learning.”
Paige turned me slightly, enough that I could see her in the mirror too. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she gazed down at me, and I felt a rush of exhilaration at being at her mercy. “Now, I want you to remember this moment. How it feels to be my good girl.”
With that, she pressed her lips against mine, capturing me in a kiss that was both sweet and demanding. I melted against her, surrendering fully to the sensation of her body against mine. Each kiss deepened my desire, igniting a passion that coursed through my veins.
“Look at us,” she murmured between kisses, her voice low and seductive. “You’re mine, and I’m yours. Together, we create magic.”
Once back on the bed she had me face down ass up, still facibg the mirror.
I gasped as she took her tongue and gave my much needy pussy attention, “You’re so beautiful like this,” she whispered, her breath warm against my thigh just before kissing and biting at it. “I want to make you feel everything.”
After a few mins of practically making out with my pussy, Paige, pulling me up by my hair before locking my head in her biceps again, her lips brushing against my ear as she trailed kisses along my jawline and neck. I could feel her warmth, her desire, and it sent waves of pleasure coursing through me. “Tell me how it feels, and don't be quiet about it either, baby” she instructed, her voice a tantalizing whisper.
“Good,” I breathed, my heart racing. “It feels so good.”
“Good girls deserve to be rewarded,” she replied, her lips curling into a smirk. “And you’ve been so very good, so keep watching in the mirror for me, yeah mamas”
She guided my gaze back to the mirror, forcing me to watch as she explored my body, her hands roaming, her kisses igniting every nerve. “Look at how much you crave this,” she teased, her voice a sultry melody. “You want to be my good girl, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I gasped, the thrill of her words sending me spiraling deeper into desire.
“Then let’s make this a night to remember,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief and passion.
Before I could fully process her movements, she had me pinned, face down ass up into the satan sheets, every inch of my body electrified by her touch. The strap slid deeper, an intoxicating sensation that made my heart race and my mind spin.
I could feel every pulse, every inch of her as she filled me, her confidence radiating through the air. Letting out a groan as if she could actually feel me clenching around her. “Fuck, baby you takin my dick so good. Pussy just swallowin me whole, shit.”
“Paige…” I managed to whisper, but the words were swallowed by the thick tension that hung between us. My body was responding, every nerve ending alive with the thrill of the moment. She held me captive, and I was more than willing to surrender.
Her fingers tangled in my hair, guiding me as she thrust deeper, the rhythm slow at first but building in intensity. I could hear her breathing, a mix of pleasure and desire, and it sent a shiver down my spine. “You’re so perfect for me,” she murmured, a sultry smile playing on her lips. “I could do this forever.”
With every thrust, she drew me closer to a precipice I had only ever dreamed of. The world outside faded away; there was nothing but the two of us, lost in our own universe. I could feel the heat pooling within me, a delicious tension building that threatened to consume us both.
“God, you feel so good,” she breathed, her voice thick with desire. “I want you to look in the mirror when you cum f'me. Watch yourself fall apart on my shit, ma.”
I surrendered completely, allowing myself to be swept up in the waves of pleasure she was creating. The way she moved, the way she filled me—it was intoxicating. I could feel every inch of her, the connection between us palpable, electric. It was as if we were two bodies entwined in a dance as old as time, a rhythm that only we could hear.
“Paige, I…” My words faltered as she hit a spot that made my entire body quiver. I could feel the tension building, spiraling higher and higher until it felt like I might burst.
“Shh, just look in the mirror and feel,” she whispered, her breath hot against my ear. “I’ve got you.”
Her words were like a spell, wrapping around me and pulling me deeper into the moment. I lost myself completely, every thought dissolving into a haze of pure ecstasy. Looking into the mirror watching with way she had my arms pinned behind my back, the determination on her face to make me feel so full. Watching the way my juices leaked on the bed, the way the base of the strap milky white from the way she was pounding me into the bed. The world outside ceased to exist; all that mattered was the connection between us, the way she moved, the way she touched me.
As she pushed deeper, I could feel the heat rising more and more, the pressure building within me. I was teetering on the edge, and I could sense that she was too. And as a last minute act she put me in a headlock again, hips still hitting all the right spot. “Yes, just like that, watch yourself f'me” she urged, her voice a low, sultry whisper. “Let go for me. Yeah ma, cum on my dick.”
With a final thrust, everything exploded, watching myself fall apart on the purple strap. I felt the world around me shatter into a million pieces, the sensation overwhelming and all-consuming. Waves of pleasure crashed over me, leaving me breathless and trembling.
“Just like that, baby. That’s it,” Paige encouraged, her voice a sultry murmur that was so encouraging that I could cum again. “You’re so beautiful when you cum, f'me baby.”
I could hardly respond, lost in the aftershocks of pleasure that coursed through me. I felt her slow down, her movements becoming gentle as she brought me back down from the high. My head resting back on her shoulder for a few seconds before I look at our sweat, cum dripping bodies, in awe
“Are you okay?” she asked, concern flickering in her eyes as they met mine through the mirror.
I nodded, still catching my breath. “More than okay,” I whispered, a smile breaking across my face. “That was incredible.”
Her lips curled into a playful grin, and I could see the satisfaction shining in her eyes. “I’m glad to hear that. But I’m not done with you yet.”
Before I could fully comprehend her words, she shifted her body, and mine her movements fluid and graceful. The strap was still there, a reminder of the connection we shared, and as she positioned herself above me, as I am now on my back, I felt the excitement build once more.
“Just relax and enjoy the ride,” she said, her voice low and enticing.
With that, she began to move again, her body rocking against mine in a way that sent shivers coursing through me. Every thrust was deliberate, every movement intentional, and I could feel myself responding, eager to meet her rhythm.
“God, you’re amazing,” she breathed, her eyes locked onto mine. The intensity of her gaze sent another wave of heat through me, igniting the fire that had only just begun to simmer.
“Paige, you have no idea…” I gasped, my hands finding their way to her hips, guiding her as I tried to keep up with her pace.
We were lost in each other, the world outside fading away once more. The tension built again, a delicious spiral that threatened to consume us both. I could feel the heat rising, the pressure coiling within me, and I knew we were nearing the edge once more.
“Just a little more,” she urged, her breath coming in quick gasps as she pushed herself closer, her voice laced with urgency. “I want to feel you again.”
With her words, I was gone, the tension breaking like a dam as the pleasure rushed over me once more. I could feel her reach her peak too, our bodies connected in a way that felt transcendent.
As we collapsed together, breathless and spent, I couldn’t help but smile. In that moment, everything felt right. We were two souls intertwined, lost in the heat of desire and the sweetness of connection.
“Wow,” I managed to say, a laugh escaping my lips. “What just happened?”
Paige chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. “Just a little magic,” she replied, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “And I think we should do it again.”
I grinned, my heart racing at the thought. “I’m all in.”
---
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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶
-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️
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eunoiathewriter · 1 day ago
Text
𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 — Choi Su-bong (Thanos)
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Sypnosis: Su-bong had always known who she was. For years they had been in the same class. Yet, it's not until now that he has started feeling like this. Like he's being pulled towards her. (Or, part 1 of headcanons about classmate Thanos falling for a girl in his class).
Warnings: Parental neglect, strict parents, mentions of abuse, smoking. Reader is referred to as a girl. Probably OOC, but this is about a part of his life we don't know anything about, so i can make stuff up either way.
Word Count: 10.1k
A/N: Since i promised to tag you @ivonhart
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♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had been in the same class as you since elementary school. Through all the years, he had the same role as class clown and often threw out jokes in the middle of class. Often getting reprimanded by teachers. Yet he was a favourite among his classmates and fellow younger students, though not really by the older ones.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who found school often to be something he disliked due to never really understanding the way teachers explained things. But he would look at students like you and your two friends who could understand everything and get in a sour mood.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who only had brief interactions with you throughout all your years in the same class but still knew you were the smartest in class.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who absolutely loathed whenever they did peer reviews in class. Usually he never wrote down any comments on his classmates works, knowing they always did a lot better than him anyway. So when he was handed a paper, he sighed heavily.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who overheard that you got his essay to review, and internally he cringed at this. Knowing what he had written and that it probably was not up to par with what such an academic student as you could write. Had anyone else gotten his essay, there would not be many notes, as most of them only verbally said if something was good or okay or even bad. But not you.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who forgot all about the essay he should be reading and the whole time kept his eyes trained on you. Watching your eyes move across his paper with a form of calmness, occasionally jotting down small comments on his paper that he wished to see immediately. 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who averted his eyes from you when the teacher said to give the essay back to whoever you were reviewing. He grumbled a small "It was fine" to his friend Min-ki while handing his essay back. Just as he handed it over, though, he heard his name get called and turned only to be faced with you.
"Hey, here you go." You held out his essay for him to take, a small smile on your lips. 
"Oh, thanks..." Su-Bong took the paper from your hand with a tight smile, expecting you to walk off. But you didn't.
"I liked your essay, by the way, Su-Bong. I never really knew all of that about rap. There's just a few notes, but overall, it was great." 
"Thank you." He thanked not being able to withstand sitting up a little bit more from his slumped-over position. You gave a little nod and another smile before turning. Ha-eun, who stood behind you, handed yours back.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who frowned and looked through his three-page essay and the few notes you had jotted down for him. They were simple ones, only asking to explain a little further on one thing and a few small grammatical errors. Who knew getting to write an essay about something he liked would make him write a good one?
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who went home that day to his mess of a family and for once did not feel stupid after a long school day. Fixing the parts in his essay recommended by you so he could turn it in the next day to the teacher. 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who was surprised when the teacher handed back the essays and patted him on the back for "stepping up". Seeing him get a score higher than he had gotten in a long time, especially in a subject that was not music.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who got stopped in the hallway by you after school as you asked him how it went with the essay. When he told how well he'd done and thanked you for the advice you'd given him, all you could do was shrug and say it was nothing. But it was something to Su-Bong.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who asked you then and there if you'd be open to helping him with schoolwork, to tutor him as his friends had said you were good at such things. And because his current one was shit. Getting a bright smile and nod as an answer made him raise his brows.
"You can?" He asked, a bit stunned.
"Of course," you nodded. "I'm more than happy to help."
"Are you free on Thursdays after school?" When he asked that, the way you smiled and your brows furrowed a little almost told him it was a stupid question. You were known to stay late and study.
"Mhm, just meet me in the classroom after school. I stay late often anyway."
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who unconsciously then began to watch you more, not in a creepy way, but when he saw you, his eyes would linger on you for a moment. If you were in the classroom with friends and he walked past, his eyes would stay on you till he could no longer see you. When he heard your voice, his head would turn in the direction it came from, trying to locate where you were.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who enjoyed being tutored by you more than his old one. Unlike them, you adjusted the way you explained subjects to him. At first he had not understood a word you said, but after a bit of readjusting in your way of explaining, he slowly got the hang of it.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, whose eyes would flicker from the paper or book you were pointing to while explaining and back to you. His eyes would stay focused on you every time you checked his progress, the way you would mouth things that he could not hear and the way you would furrow your brows in concentration.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who, despite getting to spend an hour or two extra with you every Thursday afternoon, could not find it in himself to strike up conversation outside of tutoring. 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who would come to the classroom after school, having said his goodbyes to Min-ki and Dong-hyun as they left to get home, only to find you already in the classroom with your books out and earbuds in that connected to your MP3. He had no idea how you could do such long days in school.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who found himself actually improving after only three weeks of help from you, even earning himself more claps on the back from teachers. Even his parents took notice, getting to hear directly from his homeroom teacher of the change in his grades and quality of work as of late. 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who never claimed to Min-ki and Dong-hyun that he had suddenly become an academic weapon when they pointed out their grades on the exam were still better than his. He had only said that "Shit’s easier to understand. It's weird." Which made his friends only shrug their shoulders because grades never really mattered anyway for Su-bong. 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had been bored out of his mind while wandering the school halls, waiting for you to come to tutor him, had become a drag after ten minutes passed. But the sound that came from the gymnasium quickly caught his attention as he moved closer and creaked the door open slightly before sneaking in behind the equipment to investigate the sound. Much to his surprise, it had been you. Playing your violin. All alone in the gymnasium. 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who accidentally made some gym equipment fall as he tried to get a better look, which caused him to curse a bit loudly. Looking up from his fallen-over position with a sheepish smile as you had whipped around and faced him, letting out a sigh at the realisation it was just him. 
"What the— Su-bong?" Your voice came out confused when you saw him.
He sat up and rubbed his neck. "Uhm... surprise?" 
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"Didn't know you were a musician. Are you hiding a band in here too?" He dodged the question while standing himself up, watching as you put the violin down.
"That doesn't exactly answer my question."
"Well, I was waiting for you to tutor me, but you ditched me. So, technically, this is all your fault."
"I didn't ditch you," you shook your head. "I told you yesterday that I would be fifteen minutes late."
"Yeah, but you didn't tell me why." He watched as you snapped the buckles to your case shut. "Had I known, I'd have been here much sooner."
"Why?" You could not help but ask with a slight laugh. When your eyes met his with an expectant look, he averted them and tried acting nonchalant.
"Obviously to listen." He shrugged, turning away slightly before speaking again. "You're really good, by the way."
"Oh, I—thank you. But you can't just come spying on me."
"I wasn't spying. I was... appreciating. There's a difference. You're smart, so you should know that."
You chuckled at him, also not missing the flattery that he surely thought would get him out of tutoring. "You're not getting out of tutoring, you know."
"Man, seriously?”
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who was relieved that summer had come and that he would finally get a well-deserved break from school. While walking out of school with his friends, spotting you with your friends. Nodding his head at you when you shot him a smile, a way to tell you to have a good summer.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had in the beginning hoped that his summer break would at least not include sitting at home. Yet, it did. Neither of his mother or father being able to stay home or take him anywhere during the long break. He could not even hang out with Min-ki and Dong-hyun, who were out of Seoul for the entire summer.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who spent the first week of summer break lounging on his couch, watching TV, and eating whatever junk he wanted. Only getting minimal texts from the guys who were busy spending time with their families.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who, after spending a whole week inside, decided he would go out and see if anything would inspire him. But it ended up only being him walking outside in the summer heat with earbuds in as they blasted his newly downloaded music. Rap, to be specific.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who weaved his way between people in the market, giving nasty glares towards guys younger than him who bumped his shoulder. Trying to find where that place that sold his favourite food was now again turned out to be a bigger hassle with so many people lingering around the marketplace.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who stopped in his tracks and had to backtrack a few steps with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows at spotting your familiar face among the crowd. Standing by your bicycle while paying for some groceries. 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who could not help but make his way over, hands in his pockets, as he called your name and got your attention. Your face displayed surprise upon seeing him, having thought he would have been with Min-ki and Dong-hyun all summer.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who were surprised, although he did not let it show, to find out your friends Soo-min and Ha-eun were also gone for the whole summer. This has left both of you all alone and without friends to hang out with.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who asks to join in on your shopping round, claiming he has nothing better to do. Which he really didn't. Occasionally, he would poke fun at your seriousness when it came to choosing the right fruits. His joking around would only bring a small smile onto your lips as the two of you walked through the market stand by stand. 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who insisted on walking with you to your neighbourhood, stealing glances at you every now and then. For some strange reason, he also felt strangely at ease with you, enjoying that you were so easy to crack a joke to. Every time, he earned either a small laugh or a small smile pulling at your lips.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who only reached the edge of your neighbourhood before you stopped him, saying that you could take it all from here. He watched you almost get onto the bike to cycle the last bit but was able to stop you before you were off.
"You know, we should hang out sometime." He said it as casually as he could, hands in his pockets while shrugging.
"Hang out?" You echoed, brows raised a bit. 
"Yeah. I mean, we get along, right? And besides, neither of us really has anything to do either way. So why not keep each other company?"
"I—uh. Hmm." You did not really know what to say.
"Beats sitting inside, bored, all summer." 
"I don't know, Su-bong. My parents are sort of strict about who I meet outside of school. Soo-min and Ha-eun are really the only ones they agree to."
Su-bong clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Come on, (Name). You're smart—I'm sure you can come up with a simple lie."
"If my parents find out, I will be grounded till I'm married." 
"I'm sure you can bat your lashes and come up with something to cover our asses. Or what, do you want to spend all summer alone and doing nothing?"
You sighed and thought about it before answering. "Fine. But my parents really cannot know about this."
"That's the spirit!" Su-bong nudged your arm slightly. "You got my number?"
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who walked home that day with your number in his mobile phone. Part of him began to wonder what lies you would tell your parents to be allowed to leave the house without having them hunting you down.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who later that night messaged you and asked if you would be free the next day. Only minutes later did he get an answer that you had nothing planned and a question of where to meet. Quickly, he sent back a place, a bit further from your home as he now understood you not wanting him in your neighbourhood, and a time that would at least let him sleep in.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who met up with you the next day five minutes late and could not help but poke fun at your obvious nervousness. Commenting on how you really had to relax a little, also pointing out that the only reason your parents would ever find out about this all was if you ever slipped up with whatever lies you made up. 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who got surprised an hour or so into the two of you going around town, seeing how you began to loosen up. You were no longer looking around like a child hiding while eating sweets they weren't allowed. The tension in your shoulders left, and instead of just rolling your eyes at his remarks, you shot some back.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who went home after hanging out that first day, found himself having enjoyed it a lot more than he originally thought. It was different from when he hung out with Min-ki and Dong-hyun. Sure, they knew him well and had been friends with him since kindergarten, but still.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who, after three days of hanging out, asked you if the two of you could please take your bike instead of walking. Because of his insistence, you said yes, much to his delight, but that also meant he had to sit on your bike carrier. This led to some arguing as you wobbled a little in the beginning, but when you sternly told him to just sit still and shut up, Su-bong was in no way about to test you and only answered with a slight smirk, "Yes, ma'am."
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who would fill the silence between the two of you with anything rap-related. You had always known he liked rap and did it himself; he was not shy to ever announce it to the whole class. Surprisingly enough, you ended up learning a lot about the genre you had never indulged in.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who gets pulled along to your favourite bookshop one day and just trails behind you as you point out ones that you desperately wanted to read. He did not understand your love for words on pages, but he did not exactly complain because at least he had someone to spend the summer with. But he would furrow his brows questioningly when you left the bookshop without even buying a single one of the twenty-something books you had pointed out.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who realised you were not just an incredibly study-focused person, but actually someone who had never really gotten to do just whatever.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who, after a whole week of hanging out, found himself enjoying your company more than he thought he would.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who dragged you along to the best arcade in town where he spent the majority of his money insisting he could win a prize from the claw machine. Finally, you stepped in and won the prize on your first try, leaving the boy to gape at you before jokingly calling you a "witch."
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who focused on beating his own record at his favourite game while you stand off to the side, almost yelling at him to listen to your advice. When he does as you suggest and he wins, both of you high-five at the win.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who you pulled along to a part of the city where there was a whole neighbourhood with abandoned buildings filled with graffiti. The two of you find one that gives the best view of the city skyline, and from then on, when neither of you knew what to do, that was your place to go. 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who did not call or message with Min-ki and Dong-hyun as much only three and a half weeks into summer break. The majority of his calls were instead to you, sometimes even calling when your parents were home. 
"Come on, ditch violin practice and come keep me company. I'm dying over here." His comment made you roll your eyes, as if he could see from the other side of the phone.
"Hm, no thank you. I don't feel like being strung up by my toes today!" You shot back at him, causing him to groan.
"And here I was thinking we were making progress." 
"Who is it you're talking to, (Name)?" Your mother suddenly glanced into your room as you sat on the bed.
"Just Ha-eun." You answered smoothly. The choked sounds on the other side of the phone and snickering made you want to smack him in the head.
"Oh, well, tell her I said hi!" Your mother smiled a little before retracting down the hallway.
"Dude," Su-bong lost it, laughter a bit muffled. "You didn't even hesitate. That was so smooth—look at you becoming a pro at lying!" 
You sighed and rubbed your face, but the smile still pulled at your lips. "Shut up." 
"No, I'm like actually impressed. Should I be worried?"
"For me to hang up? Yes."
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who found himself thinking about you more often than he liked. His mind often went to think about what he had said, your reaction to it, what you would be doing the next day, and anything that had to do with you.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who, after almost four weeks of hanging out, slung an arm over your shoulder to prepare for his proposition. Dragging out a "So..." while you gave him a side glance, awaiting whatever dumb idea he had now gotten to come out. When you told him to just tell you, he did as he was told.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who awaited your big blow-up, as you for the moment just stood and stared at him, blinking occasionally, as if he had just suggested the two of you go and steal from the local bank. Especially when all he had suggested was for you to sneak out one night. "Everything's more fun at night," he had claimed.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who, instead of getting a full-on lecture, got a question of what the two of you would even do. This made a sly grin spread on his face as it sounded like you were not completely opposed to the whole idea. Was he a bad influence on you?
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who made out an intricate plan on how you were to sneak out. Both of you came to the conclusion that the upcoming Friday night would be perfect because your parents went to bed slightly earlier. Hours before your parents would come home, you for once showed Su-bong exactly where your apartment was and painted out your window (that was on the first floor, only two meters above the ground). 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who that Friday, at your decided time, waited on the grass below your window as you opened your window and tossed down your jacket for him to catch. Once you had jumped down and stood up, he could not help but make a single comment.
"Not bad for a first escape." Su-bong said with a smirk while handing you your jacket.
"Yeah, you're such a bad influence." You shot back sarcastically, already moving towards your bike by the bike stand and unlocking it. 
"I'm honoured you think so!" 
You shook your head, pulling out your bike and getting ready to go. But you could not help the growing smile, having grown quite fond of the boy's antics. "Just get on, idiot." 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had directed you to a 24-hour convenience store. He jumped off before you parked your bike off to the side and locked it. When you gave him a raised brow, he told you that he was "paying back" for all the free rides you had given him.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who followed you inside and had a hard time keeping up with your speed as you went from shelf to shelf and grabbed your favourite things. It ended up being more than he thought, but at the same time, you had been pedalling around with him on the back of your bike for four weeks, so it was really nothing.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who sat on the curb of the convenience store with you, looking at all the people going in and out and watching the star-filled sky. When a group of drunk university students walked past and two ended up toppling over each other, you and Su-bong could not keep from laughing.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who later that night, when the two of you were quietly sitting on the roof of the abandoned building, pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Taking one and placing it between his lips, out the corner of his eye he could see you looking at him. Without saying a word, he held out the pack to you, not expecting you to take one, but you did.
"Something wrong?" You asked while taking the lighter from Su-bong's hand, fingers brushing against his as he took an inhale.
"Since when do you smoke?" Smoke left his mouth as he asked that question.
"I don't do it often if that's what you think." You let out a breathy laugh, lighting the cigarette.
All you got was a dumbfounded face in response, like this was the biggest revelation in his whole life. So you explained further. "My dad smokes; I've taken some of his every now and then. He doesn't notice."
"For real?" Su-bong asked and earned a nod in response. Then it was as if he deflated a bit. "Damn. And I thought I would be a bad influence."
"Sorry to burst your bubble. My dad has a bit more influence than you."
"Wait a moment..." He sat up, exhaling the smoke in his mouth while looking at you with narrowed eyes. "Do Soo-min and Ha-eun know their angel of a friend smokes?"
"First of all, no, they don't. And second of all, angel?"
"What? It fits you, angel."
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who that night helped you back up into your room through the window, having to give you a little extra push. Once you were inside and leaned out the window to wave bye to him, he could not help but notice the rather large smile on your face.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who learnt that you were not just smiles, politeness, and intelligence in the form of a human, but you had attitude and humour. It was a huge contrast to the polite and respectful girl who would sit in class and do her work. You did not shy away from a witty comment.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who later the next week after spending the day at the arcade, casually mentioned doing something later that same night. He had fully been expecting you to say it had been a one-time thing, but instead, as you grabbed your bike, he got an "I'm in" from you.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had not in the beginning of the summer expected to hang out with you every day, and now, also, some nights. It was almost as if he had forgotten about Dong-hyun and Min-ki.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who you would run around town with any time of the day, as long as your parents had no idea what you were doing. The adventures consisted of frequent visits to the 24-hour convenience store, urban exploration, bike rides around the closer neighbourhoods, sharing a cigarette or two, or even going around stores in town along with everyone else participating in Seoul's nightlife.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who would sit outside your violin lessons in the summer and listen to you replaying the same passage over and over till it would be perfect. He had no idea why the old woman who was your teacher had to be so loud about your mistakes, like screaming about it would help you in any way. It made him pull a face of disdain for the woman he had never met.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who would sometimes sneak inside the big theatre when you had lessons just to hide behind the chairs to listen to you better. The few times you had caught him out of the corner of your eye, he would give you a thumbs up as a silent way to say you were doing great. His goofy face and thumbs up would make you have to hold back a laugh while playing, causing your teacher to stop to ask what was so funny.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who you would laugh with after your lesson about the old woman's overdramatic reaction to a single smile. This would then lead to you complaining about the woman as Su-bong sat at the back of your bike and made comments that furthered your laughter.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who for some reason, after that first successful sneak out, began calling you angel. It would often leave you rolling your eyes at him, telling him to quit it, but the heat rising to your cheeks said otherwise. Su-bong could not understand the issue, just shrugging and enjoying the reactions out of you while continuing to call you angel. Instead of your name, angel was what he called you.
"Oi, angel! Over here!" 
"Yo, slow down! The hell? Are you trying to ditch me, angel?"
"Where you at? You're still at home? Hurry up, angel, I'm bored as hell out here!"
"What? You want me to start calling you '(Name)' like some stranger? No way, angel."
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who found your reactions priceless, either the roll of your eyes with a small smile or a swift smack to the back of his head. No matter what, he loved them all. Because at least you were paying attention to him in some way. 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who you noticed had almost no sense of personal space. It was nothing weird; it was just as though you, after only a few weeks, had reached the same level of friendship he had with Dong-hyun and Min-ki. There would be an arm around your shoulder at random times when walking, when you played an arcade game he would be looming right by your shoulder while poking you whenever you were close to winning, his hands would land on your shoulders whenever you agreed to yet another late-night hangout, and he would find himself grabbing the back of your shirt when the two of you navigated through crowds.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who sometimes in crowds just had his brain go blank, which made you tell him to just hold onto your bag's shoulder strap. It had once or twice happened that he just walked into a pole in the middle of the street, so you were just being cautious.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who still watched you closely, whenever he said something, was awaiting a reaction from you.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who one day suggested you both spend the day at his house. When you walked inside, you could not help but let your eyes go wide at the scale of everything; it was so much bigger than your family's apartment. They even had those fancy fridges with ice and water dispensers. The Choi family was truly rich.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who shrugged about his home, because for him it was a cold and boring one. There was no life, no baby photos of him or old photos of his parents, just two pictures of him and his parents. 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who let you roam about his room and find whatever you wanted to entertain yourself, and in your case that had been his Nintendo. He was seated by his computer, downloading music onto his newest MP3. You had found yourself comfy at the foot of his bed while you played the game that had been in his Nintendo.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who immediately sat up from his relaxed position at the slam of the front door. You jumped at the loud sound, not used to such things. Glancing over at the boy, he was already on his feet, cursing under his breath.
"Fuck," Su-bong muttered as he heard the clattering of keys against wood. "My dad's home. Fuck. Come on, angel." 
He ushered you to get up, and you did so, not even arguing about the nickname. "What? What's going on?"
At first he did not answer and only grabbed your wrist lightly, cursing under his breath while trying to gently guide you towards his closet. When you put a hand on top of his on your wrist was when he turned to you, meeting your eyes. "Su-bong."
He stared at you for a second, hearing the steps that seemed to move towards the stairs. Su-bong then sighed. 
"My dad is not like your parents. He doesn't give a single shit about boundaries. If he sees you here, even if he doesn’t know you, he'll start talking shit to you and about you—" He cut himself off with a sigh, hearing the footsteps moving up the stairs. "Look, you don't need to experience him. Just hide—please."
Without another word, you just nodded. Su-bong quickly opened his closet for you to get inside before closing it. With ease he moved and dropped down onto his bed, just as the footsteps up the stairs moved towards his room. He grabbed the Nintendo on his bed and began fiddling with it.
No knock or form of signal that his father was going to come inside was given, the door only opening and revealing him. Su-bong glanced up at him before speaking. "You're home early,"
"And you're still wasting your time here." His father spoke with a grunt. “Did you do anything besides sit here like a bum all day?”
Su-bong stared at his dad for a minute before looking down at the Nintendo in his hands, shaking his head. “Nope. Pretty much perfected the art of breathing, though.”
“You know what, forget it.” His dad let out a sharp breath, waving his hand while pushing the door to Su-bong's room closed again. 
The boy sat for a moment, listening intently to the sound of footsteps descending downstairs once again. Letting out a sigh, he turned towards the closet. “Coast's clear, angel.”
Cracking the closet door open and easily slipping out, your eyes flickered towards the door before moving back to Su-bong on the bed. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” He nodded, eyes moving all over the place until he looked at her and stood up. “Come on, let's go out instead.”
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had expected you to ask so many more questions after that day, but instead it was as though you had a silent understanding for his situation.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who one late night suddenly placed his hands on your waist while you were pedalling towards the abandoned buildings on the outskirts of Seoul. The sudden feeling made only your eyes glance down, as to not alert the boy behind you in any way. After a moment, you looked up as you shrugged it all off and let his hands stay there. It is a better way to keep himself stable and make your work easier either way.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had only felt how you tensed up a bit at the sudden contact, but as quickly as it had happened, you relaxed and focused back on the directions. He could not help the growing smirk on his face. If you had seen it, you would have asked what was funny or even smacked the back of his head for being "weird." But you could not see it.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who always knew you had a small digital camera with you wherever you went. Upon seeing something you deemed beautiful, you would click a photo of it. As of late, you had taken quite a few photos with your camera and sometimes made Su-bong wonder if there was something you did not label as beautiful.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who once stole your camera from where it was lying on the ground and turned it so the lens was turned towards him and snapped about seven or eight photos of himself. Swiftly, he then put the camera down as if it had always lain there untouched. You did not end up finding out until three days later when you went to print out some photos for your wall. You had to cover your mouth to not attract attention in the small store as you looked at the photos, also a bit surprised he got himself somewhat in frame. Su-bong did hear from you later that day about it, but he did not know you had actually not been able to resist printing three of them.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had never been in your family's apartment during the whole summer. As you put it, your neighbours, an elderly couple who had known you and your parents for many years, would more than likely tell your parents that a boy had been with you. But he did not blame you; this whole hanging-out idea was his to begin with.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who one night found himself wandering around your neighbourhood alone, escaping the hellhole of home his parents made it when they both were home at once. Glancing down the familiar road, he pulled out his phone, starting to type a quick message while walking down it. Once he spotted the window he was looking for, he saw a lamp had to be on even if the light curtains were drawn. With that, he sent the message. "Look outside."
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who only seconds later watched as the curtains were opened and you looked out your window. A minute later your window was open, and you looked down at him.
"What the hell are you doing here? It's past midnight!" You whispered harshly down to the boy. He could not keep from smirking.
"I missed you, angel. Can I come up?" 
You shook your head but leaned out a little further in the window, gently clapping your hands as a signal for him to throw up his backpack. Su-bong did so, and you caught it with ease, pulling it through the window and placing it on your floor. "You're insane." 
When you pulled back into your room, swiftly moving to lock your door, it did not take more than two minutes before Su-bong's head peeked inside your window. You walked over, holding out a hand to help him inside with as little noise as possible. 
Climbing in through your window, he took a quick glance around your room. It was small but in a cosy way. Quietly he stepped down into your room, stumbling a little, from the window, and felt you loosen your grip on his hand, so he let go.
"You're lucky my parents are sleeping. They will kill me if they hear you." You said in a low voice while closing the window and drawing your curtains again. 
"Relax. I'm like a ninja." Su-bong joked, but the usual edge to it was missing. 
"You're a walking disaster." You turned around and faced him. "Seriously though, Su-bong, what are you doing here?"
There was nothing accusatory in your tone, so he shrugged while looking around, eyeing the music sheet on your desk. He then shrugged before answering. "Just didn't feel like being home. Can I stay?"
"I—..." You cut yourself off, your face turning with concern. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. I'll just hang out here; you can do whatever you were doing." 
You just stared at him. 
"I'll be quiet. Promise."
A small smile pulled on your lips as you watched him look over the books on your bookshelf. "Sure. But if my parents hear you, I'll tell them you broke in.”
"Fair game, angel." Su-bong nodded and gave a light chuckle at your comment; his teasing smirk then returned. "So, this is where the magic happens.
"Oh, shut up!"
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who made himself comfortable on your bed with his Nintendo and MP3 player as you continued to look over some things for your next violin lesson. 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who in a quiet voice made a comment about Soo-min and Ha-eun really having a whole wall that was almost explicitly containing photos of them and you. For the fun of it, he teasingly asked what he needed to do to end up on that wall. In response, all he got from you was "To stop annoying me." That would be impossible.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who you sternly told he should not sleep on the floor, but that he also had to keep to his own side of the bed if he did not want to get kicked out. Little did either of you know that both of you experienced an increase in heartbeats.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who a few days later repaid you for risking getting caught and allowing him to stay over with the typical convenience store snacks you liked. But you seemingly made no big deal out of it all.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who noticed you no longer just took photos of the landscape but had caught you snapping a few of him too. At times he would grab it from you and insist on taking one together, to which you did not say no. While these photos could not make their way on your wall without your parents questioning it, you still printed them and kept them in your desk. They laid with your favourite photos of you, Soo-min, and Ha-eun. 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who noticed that you no longer would have a reaction whenever he called you angel. You went from telling him to stop it to not even blinking at the use of the nickname. At times, though, you would smile a little at the use of it, which Su-bong could not help but notice.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who was completely and utterly baffled to learn that you had never really listened to rap before, even if you would let him ramble on about it as if you understood. When you admitted this to him, he went wide-eyed, yelling out a loud "What?" while staring at you. This led to a long interrogation by Su-bong to figure out how you had never listened to the genre.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who made it his own mission to indoctrinate you into rap. It began with playing music from his MP3 player, watching you like a hawk for any sign that you liked the songs. When he would see your head moving the slightest to the beats, slowly bobbing your head along, he would nudge your shoulder while saying that you were finally listening to "real" music. 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who started to, without your knowledge, download rap on a new MP3 player he'd bought. It was songs he considered the standard, basic but still good songs. All so you could somehow get into the genre even more on your own. When he was done for the night, he sat back and answered a message from Min-ki, only to then completely question his actions.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who felt like he was going through an existential crisis when it finally hit him that all he had been doing as of late was not something he'd even do for Min-ki or Dong-hyun. It all hit him like bricks being thrown in his face.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who now could explain why he felt like he gained something from hearing you laugh at his jokes. He now has his explanation as to why he wants you to listen to this music so much. He had to sit down on his bed and put his head in his hands, saying a single thing to himself, "Oh, fuck me." 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who went to sleep that night still in complete shock at this new revelation. How did he, of all people, find himself having feelings for a girl who less than a year ago he would not even know a single thing about?
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who the next day had the MP3 player in his back pocket the whole time you and he hung out. He was acting the same as always, jokes flying out left and right and endless teasing that made you simply shake your head. Whenever there was a silence that stretched for longer than a minute, he contemplated just handing you the MP3 player. He could just say it was one of his old ones and claim it was since you seemingly liked rap so much. But he put it off.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had just jumped off your bike as you slowed down to get off when you said you and your parents were going away the last five days of summer break, which was next week.
"Angel... no." He spoke as if you had just betrayed him in the worst way possible. You could not help but crack a sheepish smile at his antics.
"It's just for five days—" You went to explain, but his mouth went wider and immediately interrupted you.
"Five days? First Min-ki, then Dong-hyun, and now you? You're all ditching me. Do you want me to go crazy and start talking to myself?" He walked closer to you, trying to stay serious, but when you began laughing lightly, he could not help but crack a smile. 
He was playing around; of course he would not die without you for five days. But he had taken notice that you, unlike many others, did not find his overdramatic joking annoying but endearing. 
"You already talk to yourself." You pointed out to him with a small smile.
"That's besides the point,"
"I will have my phone. We'll still be able to talk."
"Hm," Su-bong hummed, agreeing that did work. His hands slipped inside his pockets, his right hand gracing the MP3 player still in his pockets. 
You shook your head, grabbing the handles of your bikes and beginning to walk the short way to your home. He quickly caught up, an arm finding its way over your shoulder. He could not help but like that you did not pull away from him, letting him hook his arm around you.
"Alright, angel. Since you're ditching me, you owe me—we hang out every day until you leave. No excuses."
"Sure." You shook your head at him. "Damn drama queen."
"Hey!"
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who later the next week, after having hung out every day without any excuses like you agreed to, still had the MP3 player in his back pocket. He found himself taking it out of his pocket when getting home every day and fiddling with it, like trying to think of when the perfect time to give it to you would be.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who the night before you were going away insisted the two of you go to the abandoned rooftop. Once there, he lit himself a cigarette as the two of you talked and joked about anything you could think about.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who raised his brows when you got a call from Soo-min as the two of you were talking. You answered without hesitation, and from how you were talking, he could tell you had not told her either about the two of you hanging out. A mischievous expression took over his face as he stepped on the cigarette.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who out of nowhere grabbed your wrist and yanked the phone towards himself so he could yell out a hello to Soo-min on the other line. You swiftly smacked him in the head with your hand as he laughed when hearing Soo-min's confused voice. You had rushed out a goodbye before turning and, while laughing, telling him it was not funny. But still, the thought of how Soo-min's face must have looked kept you both laughing for longer than it should have.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who later, when you were both walking back home, pulled out the MP3 player and handed it to you. At your confused face, he explained it had some good songs on it, just to get you started on rap. Jokingly he said you would now have something good to listen to during your almost three-hour car ride the next day.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who made up the excuse that the MP3 player was one of his old ones that he no longer used when you thanked him but said you could not take it. He turned away, hands in his pockets after so you could not see his face, all while shrugging his shoulders as if it was nothing special. You did not say that you knew he was lying; the MP3 player looked way too new. But it made your heart swell.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who the next day, for once during the whole summer, could not simply shoot you a text or even call to ask what you were up to because he already knew. You were in a car on your way to your grandparents. 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who spent that first day more bored than he remembered himself being that first week of summer break. The majority of the time he spent in his room, playing games and only walking downstairs once that night when his parents were home to take up some food for himself.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who the next day went out on his own, having talked to Dong-hyun, who were going to come back the next day, late, when it was only two days until school started again. He found himself visiting all the places that you and he would go to.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who headed for the convenience store around 11 pm, the same one you and he visited, picking out some snacks and a drink for himself. When paying, the same guy that usually worked was there. The worker glanced around the aisles while scanning everything Su-bong had picked up. 
"Where's that girlfriend of yours?" The worker, a twenty-something old guy, spoke suddenly and with a hint of curiosity. 
Su-bong, who had his earbuds in and music from his MP3 player loudly playing in his ears, did not fully hear what the guy had said. He pulled the earbuds from his ears by the cable and furrowed his brows in confusion. "Huh?"
"The girl you're always here with." The worker cleared up, then let out a slight laugh before speaking again. "What, she finally ditched you?"
"She didn't ditch me, man. She's out of town." Su-bong spoke with a hint of annoyance, having hoped it would've been a quick in-and-out of the store.
"So, she is your girlfriend."
"Mind your own business."
"Damn, touchy." The worker smirked. "Thought you'd just say no."
Su-bong grabbed the cash from his pocket and unceremoniously slammed it onto the counter, startling the guy a little. He then snatched back his soda and snacks.
"Maybe I just don't like nosy cashiers who talk too much."
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who, once he was outside, sat himself down on the curb and popped open the bag of snacks just as his phone began buzzing. While chewing on a chip, he picked it up with furrowed brows, but when seeing your name on the small screen, he did not hesitate to answer it. 
"Well, well, would you look at that—one might actually think you are missing me, angel."
There was a pause before you scoffed lightly on the other side of the phone. "Don't flatter yourself."
"Too late," he answered. "You've been gone less than two days, and now you are calling me first? I'm basically a priority at this point."
"You are so full of yourself."
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who talked with you for almost an hour that night, getting to know all you'd done while away. He liked it, sitting and listening to you explain the things you had done with your family ever since getting to your grandparents. While talking to you, he slowly began making his way home, occasionally taking a sip or two of his soda. 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who spent the whole day after all on his own. But he at least figured out what to do besides being outside. The majority of it consisted of him playing games and listening to music, going out to have a cigarette once. But later that night, he not only got a call from you but also a message from Dong-hyun that he was back and wanted to meet up the next day.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who even if Dong-hyun came back and they hung out the last two days of summer break, got a few texts here and there from you, as if updating him on the strangest things you could think of. But he still appreciated that you still wanted to talk, seemingly having not grown tired of him yet.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who only shrugged and told Dong-hyun that his summer had been pretty uneventful. Su-bong vaguely told him that he kept himself busy while he and Min-ki were away. When Dong-hyun questioned this, saying that many of his calls had not been answered until late and that Min-ki had told him the same, as many of their mails had gone unannounced, all Su-bong did was shrug and repeat he had kept himself busy.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had to withstand Dong-hyun asking him repeatedly to actually tell him what he had been up to all summer. It was like he had become a walking headache to Su-bong; whenever he thought his friend was done asking, a new try at getting information from him was tried. Of course, Su-bong would not tell Dong-hyun and Min-ki—he respected you and did not want to have them running off and telling everyone in school on the first day, especially if you didn't want that.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who actually felt a bit bothered thinking about what would happen when school started again. He heavily disliked the thought of having to act like the two of you were not friends in school, too. With your parents, he understood, and he respected it heavily. Maybe if he did not feel the way he did for you, maybe if you were only a friend to him, it would not be such a bother. But you were not just a friend. No matter how he wanted to feel.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who were hanging out with Dong-hyun and Min-ki, who had just returned, the day before school started, felt his phone vibrate a little. When he picked it up and saw you had written that you were on your way home, he could not help but smile at knowing you would be back. It did not go unnoticed by his two friends; Dong-hyun immediately accused him of having a secret girlfriend, which made Min-ki raise his eyebrows in confusion.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who went to school the next day, was immediately swept up by Dong-hyun and Min-ki, along with some of the other guys in the same class. All of them were catching up outside before even walking inside school, seeing as there was a long time till they had to actually be in class.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who was deep in conversation with four other guys from your class when he spotted your familiar face. You were smiling as you slowed down your bike to park it, along with Soo-min and Ha-eun, who went to do the same. His eyes followed you as you hooked arms with Soo-min as Ha-eun was clearly telling the two of you something.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who got nudged by one of your classmates, Woo-jin, asking if he was even listening. He turned his eyes to the group of boys staring back at him, saying he zoned out, and they all shrugged, but the conversation continued nonetheless.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who caught your eye as you walked past the group of boys. Upon seeing him again, you shot him a smile and a small wave with your free hand that had not been hooked with Soo-min. When Su-bong noticed, he gave a slight smile and nod of acknowledgement. A part of him warmed upon seeing you again.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had to hear Dong-hyun, Min-ki, Woo-jin, and Ji-ho ask who that nod was for, as neither of them had seen your smile. Woo-jin and Ji-ho, both confused, got caught up by Min-ki and Dong-hyun about their speculation that Su-bong had spent the summer with someone.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who, once they reached their classroom, felt like he had hit the jackpot. This year he sat one row behind you, diagonally to your right, from what he saw on the seating chart drawn upon the board. 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who sat down at his desk quietly at first, decided to sit and not speak with you if that was what you wanted, but his spirits were lifted when you spoke to him first. You had turned to him, mid-conversation with Hye-ran, smiling and saying hey.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who you struck up a conversation with immediately, ignoring the confused looks on Soo-min's and Ha-eun's faces. You and Su-bong had never spoken like this before the summer. Sure, they knew you had tutored him last semester, but the two of you did not talk like this. This was new. The way you leaned closer and told about what you did those five days away.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who had his conversation with you interrupted by Ha-eun, who finally asked since when you two were friends. Su-bong, who revelled in your slightly flustered expression, asked you to explain to your friends. He found it funny how when away from prying eyes, you were extremely calm, yet under the eyes of your best friends, you got flustered.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who sat back and listened as you, without much detail, explained how the two of you bumped into each other during the summer and hung out a few times. He wanted to laugh out loud—a few times was an understatement. It also amused him how you left out certain details, as if Soo-min and Ha-eun would lecture you about it. Dong-hyun and Min-ki both sat beside him and whispered about how this explained everything. 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who got asked by Ha-eun and Soo-min if your parents knew the two of you had hung out, to which silence followed. The two girls had turned to you as if you had committed a crime for not telling them this. 
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who out of what had now become a habit, called you "angel" in front of both your and his friends. Your eyes had widened slightly while staring straight at Su-bong, who realised, but he could not help but pull an amused smile at your flustered face. The wide eyes from your friends that followed were as far as their shock could get, however, because just as they went to loudly ask their questions, the teacher entered the classroom.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who shrugged his shoulders at you when Ha-eun and Soo-min went to sit down, your eyes still on him. For the fun of it, before the teacher could speak, he whispered a quiet "Sorry, angel" to you. The people in front and behind the two of you heard, and your face heated up even more. Before turning to focus on the teacher, you shot Su-bong a pointed look, which earned a quiet laugh.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who prepared himself for you to lecture him after school, but did not expect what you did during lunch instead.
♬.ᐟ  CLASSMATE SU-BONG, who barely had stood up to join Min-ki and Dong-hyun before you had stood up and grabbed his arm, effectively pulling him out of the classroom before your friends could get their hands on you. Dong-hyun and Min-ki whistled at the two of you before laughing along with some other boy in the class who had overheard. Soo-min and Ha-eun tried to catch up to the two of you but failed.
"Where are we—" He had barely any chance to process where you had dragged him off to before a hand hit him over the head. "Ow!"
"What the hell were you thinking calling me that in front of everyone? The whole class, at that!" You asked as Su-bong rubbed the back of his head. He took a glance at you before giving a slight grin to you.
"What? It's not like I said anything bad. Didn't you say you didn't care about that anymore?" 
You stared at him for a moment, your face still hot from the embarrassment that had hit you when some of the boys whistled as you dragged Su-bong off. His grin made you narrow your eyes before swiftly giving him another whack.
"Ow! Calm down, woman!"
"I don't care. But you could have just let me tell Soo-min and Ha-eun properly before." You ignored his dramatics and crossed your arms. Still, your eyes softened when looking at him, but it went unnoticed by Su-bong, who started to speak.
"Well, you can’t blame me for being honest. It's not my fault you're—" Before he could get any further, he felt you gently wrap your arms over his shoulders in a quick but tight hug. 
"It's good to see you again." You said softly to him, causing his heart to beat a little faster. Then, as quickly as you had hugged him, you pulled away. The boy quickly recovered.
"Five days and you miss me that much, huh?" He speaks with a teasing tone, nudging you lightly.
You rolled your eyes. "Don't push your luck."
"You know, you could have just said you missed me without hitting me first."
"Hm, that's boring, and you deserved it."
His grin softened into something more genuine. "It's good seeing you too, angel.”
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— If you guys want a part 2, please tell me; I have even more ideas for this. Also, if you have an idea that I could add in that part, I'm always open to suggestions!
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danandfuckingjonlmao · 3 days ago
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do you ever think about how we have phannies in every field? like we have doctors and baristas and mental health therapists and geologists and audiologists and engineers and neuroscientists and authors and social media consultants and activists and child care workers and museum managers and teachers and biologists and emts and linguists and accessibility coaches and sign language interpreters and artists and musicians and editors and actors and chefs and fucking EVERYTHING. not to mention the specific knowledge bases and hobbies we have outside of our professions—coding, linguistic and cultural diversity, artistic creativity, political/social awareness, passion for justice, research, make up and hair and fashion design, media literacy, philosophy, all of our special interests/hyperfixations, etc. we could run a successful commune no problem at all. we’re so smart and talented and resourceful and powerful.
the phandom is rooted in a past of being infamously shitty, and i do see yall slipping back into old habits sometimes (mostly on twitter but sometimes here and you know it <3) but it’s pretty fucking cool how capable this community is and our ability to unify. anyway phanmune when.
(if you want, leave your knowledge base/skills in the tags or replies. can be profession, hobby, major/program of study, what you study in your free time, what you want to learn about, what you’re interested, all of the above, anything)
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alighted-willow · 12 hours ago
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(Just slotting these tag here, because they're correct.)
At a previous job I had a coworker who was one of those spiritual tourism types, and one day she started going in about how the “[U]niverse gifts some people” with intelligence, skill, health, etcetera, and that those things can't be taught. She'd been referring most specifically to her impressive singing capabilities, and she was a very beautiful and artfully adorned person, meaning she believe ‘the universe’ made her special.
I pointed out to her that what she was saying had some very obvious economic, social, and ableist implications and asked if she thought ‘the universe’ decides which children get sent to choir versus to their grandparents, to which she doubled down. Realizing that my example hedged as an ad hominem, I switched gears to mention how ‘the universe’ was a direct swap for ‘god’ (specifically the Christian god) and that everything she'd said is the same stuff that's been said by Christian political organizations since this country's founding.
Apparently, insinuating someone to be religious is an insult worse than implying that someone's deteriorating health was deserved.
it does still make me insane specifically how many queer people lovingly embrace astrology. I went to a poetry workshop yesterday that was genuinely quite good but also included an option to disclose astrology designations during introductions and so many people broke out some variation of "I'm a [x] sum but I have a [y] placement and it SHOWS" girl no it doesn't. that's meaningless correlation you completely invented the causation
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buttercupshands · 7 hours ago
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Twitter shouldn't be the only one to see the video version of this
I was waiting for Tumblr to be grumpy about the size so it's really just the Loop talk
#isat#isat spoilers#act 6 spoilers#in stars and time#I'm main tagging this oh god#isat siffrin#isat loop#isat shitpost#isat au#I'd say “isat mod” but that's a ton of planning for me alone#also I'm extremely self-conscious about everything when I'm not extremely curious about something#like this thing is giving me anxiety from how it's literally just an add to the game with Loop in it#because again. those sprites make me think a lot and this is exactly what I was thinking#(not quite but I struggled with Act 6 2hats map and it won( )#I really want to try more though#for research purposes#I love how isat is written - coding wise - I just look at it and go IT'S SO INTERESTING and just learn how did one lead to another and stuf#it's like how I was with undertale back in 2017 BUT I never learned how to open undertale or see the code aside from saves#and learning how to manipulate them was so fun!#sadly isat saves are written differently so I can't do that manually#but I DO have like 7 Act 6 saves#anyway a fun fact - this save is actually pre-2hats battle I checked at the end but cut that out#so basically in this scenario there are two Loops at once! what a miracle!#but honestly Loop is literally based on how Head Housemaiden is written I checked Isa's dialogues to check where did I make a mistake#and basically all other stuff was me dealing with editing sprites bc Loop has only a walk cycle and this one has all sprites to rotate#anyway! that's that!#video#human loop#also Siffrin faces are so much fun to choose from I love them
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littlelamy · 14 hours ago
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thinking about rafe being more involved with sarahs life after the baby and spending time with them and taking the kid to school or maybe picking the kid up and seeing reader who is a teacher and they flirt or maybe it’s parent teacher conference and rafe tags along with john b bc Sarah can’t make it and him and reader are cute and flirting
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the late afternoon sunlight filtered through the classroom windows, painting golden streaks across the desks and scattering soft shadows on the floor. it was quiet now, the hum of kids long gone except for a few stray drawings left forgotten on tables and the faint creak of your chair as you leaned back, scanning through a pile of spelling tests.
the knock on your classroom door startled you, pulling you out of the mundane rhythm of grading. when you looked up, you expected john b, who had mentioned he’d be dropping by for the parent-teacher conference. instead, you saw him. rafe cameron.
rafe leaned casually against the doorframe, one hand shoved into the pocket of his jeans, the other gripping the strap of a sleek leather backpack. his usual cocky smirk softened into something more polite, almost uncertain, as his eyes swept the room before landing on you.
“hey,” he said, his voice low and warm, like he wasn’t entirely sure he belonged here but was trying anyway.
“hi,” you managed, your surprise fading into curiosity. “can i help you?”
“i… uh, i’m here for the conference,” he explained, stepping further into the room. “sarah couldn’t make it, and john b roped me into tagging along.”
you blinked, trying to reconcile the guy who had a reputation for being a little too reckless, a little too intense, with the man standing in front of you. “oh. yeah, of course. take a seat. john b should be here any minute.”
rafe nodded, sliding into one of the kid-sized chairs with an amused grin. “man, these chairs are tiny. no wonder kids are always squirming.”
you laughed, the sound light and unexpected. “yeah, they’re not exactly built for comfort. you’ll survive, though.”
he raised an eyebrow, leaning his elbows on the desk as he looked at you. “is that a challenge?”
before you could respond, the door swung open, and john b burst in, his usual whirlwind energy filling the room. “hey, sorry i’m late,” he said, dropping into a chair beside rafe without missing a beat. “traffic was insane.”
“it’s fine,” you assured him, pulling out the folder with their child’s name neatly printed across the front. “shall we get started?”
the conference itself was straightforward, mostly you going over their daughter’s progress, showing off some of her artwork, and sharing notes about her strengths and areas for growth. but every now and then, you felt rafe’s gaze on you, steady and curious, like he was trying to figure you out.
when the meeting wrapped up, john b stood, stretching. “thanks for taking the time. sarah’ll be thrilled to hear everything’s going so well.”
“of course,” you said, offering him a warm smile. “she’s a great kid. makes my job easy.”
john b nodded, then glanced at rafe. “you coming?”
rafe hesitated, his eyes flicking to you. “uh, i’ll catch up. i just have a quick question.”
john b smirked, like he knew exactly what was going on, but didn’t say anything as he left, leaving you and rafe alone.
“so, a quick question?” you prompted, arching an eyebrow.
he grinned, leaning back in his tiny chair. “yeah, just wanted to ask if you’ve always been this good with kids, or if it’s something you picked up over time.”
you tilted your head, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “a little of both, i guess. i’ve always liked working with them. they’re honest, you know? no filter. keeps things interesting.”
he nodded, his expression thoughtful. “yeah, i can see that. you’re… you’re really good at it. i mean, i could barely survive babysitting her for an afternoon, and you do this every day.”
you laughed, feeling a warmth creep into your cheeks. “it’s definitely not easy, but it’s worth it.”
there was a pause, the kind that felt like it held something unsaid, and then rafe stood, towering over the kid-sized desk. “anyway, i should let you go. but… maybe i’ll see you around?”
“maybe,” you said, your smile lingering as he made his way to the door.
but before he left, he glanced back, his smirk returning. “or, you know, if you ever need a break from grading papers, i’d be happy to grab a coffee or something. on me.”
you raised an eyebrow, fighting the grin tugging at your lips. “i’ll think about it, cameron.”
he chuckled, giving you a small salute before disappearing into the hallway, leaving you alone in the golden light of the classroom, your heart fluttering in a way you hadn’t expected.
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lamy's notes: i wouldn't mind doing more fics about rafe x teacher!reader! i hope you liked it!!
taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesbabygirlx
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chancloud8 · 14 hours ago
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PART 12.
<< previous chapter || next chapter >>
series masterlist.
series summary: you and chan get matched up on a forum for people who suffer with insomnia and spent most of your sleepless nights texting each other. neither of you expected to fall in love..
pairing: bang chan x reader
tags: smau, written part, first time facetiming, FLUFF
a/n: it's a little short, about 0.9k, but its a smau after all ;) I hope you like it my darlings <3
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The screen of your iPhone lits up as you wait for the outgoing facetime request to go through. The camera automatically turns on, showing you your flushed face and wild hair.
'Fuck,' you mutter, quickly dragging your fingers through your hair in attempt to fix it. 
This is really happening. 
Chris is about to see your face, hear your voice and you're about to see him. 
You frown at your own reflection as you wait for him to accept the video call, wondering if you should have put on some make up or brushed your hair. 
The screen goes black for a moment and all thoughts leave your mind when Chris comes into view. 
'Holy shit,' you blurt out before you can help yourself. 'You’re not real.' 
Chan blinks once, twice, and then he doubles over and laughs. It's a beautiful sound, even better than hearing it in all the skz code video's you watched, and you can't help but giggle along with him. 
'I'm sorry, but you just look way to beautiful for a sleep deprived person,' you tell him when you finally stop giggling. 
Chan smiles and shakes his head, his ears turning red. 'Says you.' 
'Mhm, I did,' you nod, grinning at him. 
The next five seconds are silent as you just take a moment to look at each other. Chan is dressed in a white tank top and a black sweater vest that's sliding off of his broad shoulder. His hair is messy, but cute and his face is bare of any make up and just as pretty as all the pictures you've secretly saved on your phone. 
Chan giggles again and hides his face behind his hands, causing you to burst into another fit of giggles yourself. 
'Look at us,' you laugh. 'We can't even look at each other without giggling. What are we? School girls?'
'I blame sleep deprivation,' Chan smiles, shrugging his shoulders. 
'Don't we always?' 
‘Maybe, but it's easy.’ 
You laugh again and nod in agreement. 
‘I was wrong about you though,’ Chan says, tilting his head as he watches you. ‘You’re not just gorgeous, you're beautiful, absolutely stunning.’ 
‘Chan!’ You yell, ducking your head as your cheeks heat up. ‘Stop that.’ 
‘Why? It's the truth,’ he giggles, petting his red cheeks with his hands. ‘You deserve to know the truth.’ 
Your entire body feels warm by his compliment and you just know that your red cheeks match Chris'. 
‘You’re on to talk,’ you say, deciding to give him a taste of his own medicine. ‘You’re the most beautiful man I've ever had the pleasure to talk to.’ 
Chris sputters and hides his face again. 
‘I am not!’ 
‘Yes you are, have you seen you?’
‘I have, so I know it's not true. Do you see this nose?’ Chris frowns pointing at his face. 
‘Yeah?’ You raise your eyebrows at him. ‘It's a very pretty nose.’
Chan groans and shakes his head, clearly not agreeing with you. 
‘I have a million Stays who will back me up on this,’ you laugh. ‘You better start believing it.’ 
Chan pouts and it's so cute that you can't help but giggle again. 
‘You’re way cuter than I am,’ he says, a smile already back on your face. 
‘Nu-uh, we're not going to do this back and forth thing, cause we'll be here forever and it's too sappy.’ 
Chan’s about to reply when someone seems to walk into his room. His head snaps to the side and he frowns, shaking his head. A male voice is speaking rapidly in Korean and when Chan stands up and leaves the screen, all you can do is wait and wonder. 
There's yelling, the slam of a door and then Chan is back into view. He smiles sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck. 
‘What was that all about?’ You ask him curiously. ‘Everything alright?’
‘Uhm, yeah, that was just my roommate being nosy.’ 
His roommate, meaning Yang Jeongin.
‘That was Jeongin?’ You grin. ‘Why did it sound like you kicked him out of your room?’
Chan clears his throat and rubs his neck again, his lips puckering like he's debating what to tell you. 
‘You did, didn't you?’ You chuckle. ‘Scared I'll ask for his number next?’
Chan rolls his eyes and drops his hand into his lap. ‘No, I'm just–’ he falls quiet and bites his lip. ‘I just want to keep you to myself for a bit.’ 
Your eyes widen and your jaw nearly drops open and his confession. 
‘I mean, just until we've had our date,’ Chan continues before you can speak up, his ears turning red. ‘I just got you back, I don't want them to scare you off again.’ 
‘Okay,’ you smile gently at him, butterflies erupting in your stomach. 
Chan lets out a breath of relief and smiles back. 
‘I can't believe THE Christopher Bangh is being selfish right now,’ you tease, wiggling your eyebrows at him. ‘All because of me.’ 
‘All because of you,’ Chan agrees, letting out another giggle. ‘Hasn’t everyone been telling me to be more selfish? I guess all it took was for me to meet you.’ 
‘I’m flattered,’ you smile, placing your hand on your heart to show him how much you mean those words. ‘Seems like we can be thankful for our insomnia after all.’ 
Chan makes a face and the both of you laugh again.
The sound of both of your giggles does something to you, it makes you feel things you’ve never felt before and you just know that you will never get enough of whatever it is that Chan is making you feel.
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a/n: Ugghh they're so cute!! I hope you liked it! <3
taglist: @jaeminie-cricket @jeonginsbaee @staylovesmiley @newbbystay @cashtonsbetch @mariahxrrera @kaleigh-2002 @silencionyx @smileykiddie08 @my-neurodivergent-world @yaorzu-blog @yoongiismylove2018 @staytinyluv @bookswillfindyouaway @queen-thiccness @notastraykid @ateez-atiny380 @estella-novella @furfoxsake22 @hyunjinhoexxx @insomnjen @girl-in-love-with-kpop @vivilovesuu @velvetmoonlght @skz8love @corgilover20 @littlelostdemonofthelight @stephanieeeyang @zulie-and-cats @chanshugsaretherapy @pizzalove5000 @dazzlingjade @milie-com @thequibbie @channiesrightasscheek @strawbrriz @delulustardust @velvetskize @channiefever @luvbangchan @aalexyuuuhm @katsukis1wife @herpoetryprincess @ye0lkkot @glitterywastelandgardener @vampcharxter @boi-bi-ahaha @mlink64 @greyyeti @mariteez
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imqueerandadeer · 1 day ago
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"red camellia - "you are a flame in my heart"
Wow, you are a force to be reckoned with! When you’re motivated, there’s absolutely nothing that can stop you. Sometimes, you can get a little wrapped up in yourself, but overall you are so passionate about other people. If you’re interested in something, you’ll take it to extremes and learn everything you possibly can about it. You can talk for ages and there’s constantly a million thoughts, ideas, and opinions running through your head. You tend to see the world in black and white; it wouldn’t hurt to balance your viewpoints out a bit, but also, never lose your strong sense of morality. You’ve definitely been constantly told that you’re “too much”– don’t listen to them. You’ll find your people who love all the parts of you, and especially your zest for life. You might have trouble balancing out your emotions, and you definitely feel everything at an intensity that would stagger others. You also probably have a great distrust of authority."
Yep It's the neurodivergence anways Tags Open
Have you ever wondered what flower from Victorian flower language you are? I have! I have a quiz about it! (my credentials are that I have a spreadsheet of over 600 flower meanings)
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