#Book your dream vacation now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ceesimz · 3 months ago

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Daydream

You go on vacation with Alexia, Mapi, and Ingrid. (Autistic reader)

Set after Wilted, which covers the journey to the UCL final. Other parts of Reverie can be found here. This is a very long but fun one!

Contrary to popular belief, travelling was something you adored - flying especially. Being 36,000ft up in the air, literally having the best view in the world with absolutely zero responsibilities or expectations? Heaven. Working in an industry that took you not only around Europe, but around the world too, really was a dream come true. And it just so happened to be that the Champion’s League Final you would hopefully be playing in, another dream come true, was hosted in one of the few countries you were yet to visit.

Portugal. It had been high on your travel list for a while, and the moment Mapi had suggested a couples’ vacation in said country after the biggest game of your life, there was no way you could say no.

Initially, you had your doubts though. Going on vacation straight after such a high-profile game, the most important one of the season, might not be the best idea. You had faith in your team, just not in yourself. And with so much at stake, it was difficult not to worry anyway. If you lost, you’d most likely want to lock yourself in your apartment for a week before the utter embarrassment wore off. But at the same time, if you did win, the whole experience would probably be so overwhelming – in a good way, of course – that after endless celebrations, you’d most likely just want to recharge your social battery in bed.

However, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity that you simply couldn’t pass up on. Recovering from a harsh loss on some of the most gorgeous beaches in Europe sounded like bliss, or exploring a whole new country after winning the most prestigious tournament in the footballing world might be the best reward possible.

So, after some in-depth discussions with both Alexia and Ingrid, the vacation was booked. The first couple days after the final would be spent in Lisbon, two of the best rooms booked at a five-star hotel that allowed for plenty of time of rest and recovery after god knows how many celebrations. Then, from there, the four of you would make your way to the astounding island of Madeira, the main place that attracted you about the country.

And when it came to the long awaited day, the dream scenario occurred: not only did you play in the Champion’s League final, you scored in the Champion’s League final. It was the winning goal too.

Football didn't really get much better than that.

The feeling was euphoric to the highest degree, something you hadn't experienced before. You were addicted to it, wishing you could ride the adrenaline wave forever. This was why you played football, why you got out of bed in the morning, and why you chose to live even when it was difficult to want to.

To top it all off, you were surrounded by the best people whilst achieving your dream. In the changing rooms, a medal around your neck and champagne being passed around the room whilst people danced arm in arm to the music blasting from a speaker, you looked around and let it sink in that these people were your family now. They knew you, truly knew you, and even with all that knowledge they carried on loving you anyway.

You looked back on all your memories so far, when it was so terrifying to be stood in the same building as these football giants, nevermind the same room. But, nearly a year down the line, they were family. You stood in their presence, adorning the same iconic crest and the same gold medal as them all, feeling like you belonged.

That realisation winded you a bit, because it was something you had struggled with all your life. For so long, deep down, you worried that if you did achieve your dream, you still wouldn't feel worthy of it. Yet, that feeling was long gone. There was no negativity dragging you down, no voices pulling you from the moment and suffocating you in anxiety. All that was there was complete and utter joy.

So, when that sunk in, you sat down in your cubby and slumped back against the wall. The festivities continued around you, but you wanted to take a moment to capture it and live in the present. You could enjoy it later, for now you wanted to see it from the outside before you got lost in the celebrations.

You just wished one person was beside you, rather than being stuck with media commitments down the corridor.

"You okay?" Esmee had come over to sit next to you at some point, having noticed you were a little subdued.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm okay. It's... it's crazy, isn't it? To be here, with this team, this medal. I'm just taking it all in." You explained, watching everybody lose themselves in the glory high.

"It is crazy. I remember feeling overwhelmed the first time I won it here. It's amazing but a lot to take in. Don't feel... embarrassed, or something, if you need to step out. I can come with you if you'd like." The Dutch girl told you, suggesting an idea that sounded like something you could do with at that moment.

"I think I will. I'm going to go see what Ale is up to, see if she's finishing up anytime soon. Thanks though, Esmee. I appreciate you a lot." You stated sincerely, pulling her in for a brief hug.

"You too, MVP." She grinned, giving you a gentle shove as you stood up and walked away.

Just as you turned the corner out of the locker room, you bumped into the one person you were looking for.

"Oh, engel, is everything okay?" Alexia asked, her hand holding onto your hip to steady you.

"I'm okay, just getting a bit much in there. Esmee said it best, I think I'm getting a little overwhelmed so I was just going to..." You trailed off, unsure what you were actually going to do next. You didn't know the stadium well enough, nor did you know where you were actually allowed to go.

“We can find somewhere to go. Come.” Alexia took your hand in an instant.

Little things like this, Alexia saying ‘we’ and opting out of celebrating yet another trophy with her team in favour of helping you, they weren’t little. They meant the world to you.

She led you through a few corridors, smiling and waving at a few people she walked by that lit up at the sight of her. But you were more important to her. A few polite rejections later, and you had made it to a more secluded side of the stadium where the only people there were workers. The midfielder spotted what looked like an empty office, sparsely decorated apart from a desk and some chairs.

“Are we allowed in here?” You wondered as Alexia ushered you in and closed the door behind her. She shrugged and smiled at you when you sat on the edge of the desk. “How was the media stuff?”

“Same as always.” Alexia answered, taking a seat in the chair opposite you, shuffling it close enough that you could rest your feet on the edge of it. “How does your leg feel?”

“It aches a bit but it’s okay.” You told her, smiling bashfully when she leaned forward and started gently massaging the underside of your thigh, the one that you injured a couple months ago and had only recently come back from. “Thank you for taking me here.”

“No problem, mi amor. It does get a little crazy sometimes for me too. I’m more than happy to be here with you. You just won your first Champion’s League.” Alexia stated with a proud grin, unable to stop herself from laughing with you when you giggled at the ridiculousness of her statement.

“You just won your fourth.” You reminded her with a shake of your head only for the woman across from you to shrug again.

“Winning it with you, it feels like my first all over again.” She said simply, as if the sentence wasn’t one of the sweetest things you had ever heard. “Did I tell you how amazing your goal was? I’m pretty sure I had the best view in the whole stadium. It was really incredible, engel.”

That compliment didn’t just mean a lot to you because it came from your girlfriend, but because it came from the world’s best footballer. Two time Ballon d’Or winner, two time FIFA Women’s World Player, and so many other awards that would take too long to name, was gushing about how good of a player you were. She complimented you all the time, but this particular moment tugged at your heartstrings so much you felt like tearing up.

“I love you.” You replied, because those three words seemed like the only ones in the world to convey your gratitude as intensely as you felt it.

For some time, the pair of you sat in that room together, in the stadium where your wildest dreams had come together to exist in one space, and relished in the present. Some minutes were spent talking, about everything and nothing, whilst others were spent in silence, simply enjoying the other’s company and coming down from the adrenaline rush that the day had been.

The only downside was that you couldn’t spend forever in an empty office, which you were reminded of when some rushed Spanish caught Alexia’s attention down the hallway outside. It sounded awfully like some of your teammates, and your girlfriend took that as your sign to leave. She told you just as much, though as she got up and headed to the door, you were glued to the wood underneath you.

One thing about falling in love with Alexia is that, over time, it’s become so much harder to hide things from her. Your resolve collapsed so quickly around her. And you were beginning to realise that you loved it. Not only did it make your life quite a bit easier, but you loved that you had a person so dedicated to you that you could be completely yourself around her, that you had a safe place for the bad to go in hand with the good. You hadn’t ever experienced that before like this.

She took one look at you and saw straight through the flat expression you wore when something was plaguing you.

“Cariño.” Alexia hummed quietly, catching your attention properly as she stood by the door with her hands on her hips. “There is something on your mind. What’s wrong?”

“I… I don’t know.” You mumbled with a shrug. Alexia moved then, coming to stand in front of where you still sat on the desk. “I guess… I am worried about the vacation.”

“Why?” She wondered, and you sighed. It sounded silly to say that, considering you had just achieved your dream yet there you were worrying about your vacation. Luckily for you, Alexia always knew what to say exactly when you needed it.

“I have been on vacation with Ingrid, multiple times. I’ve never been on vacation with you or Mapi before. So… I’m scared, I think, of what you both might, um… think of me. Seeing me in a different light, a different environment, for two weeks straight. That’s a long time.”

Of all things, Alexia couldn’t ever have guessed it was that which was making you so anxious.

A frown quickly formed on her face, hating that even after months of being together, you still had doubts when it came to your own relationship. If she could take them all away and carry them for herself, she would. She hoped that, one day, you would be able to understand the depths of her unconditional love and realise there was nothing about you that would drive her away.

She delicately cupped both your cheeks and tilted your head up as she towered over you, before she leaned in to firmly but tenderly kiss your forehead. A combination of physical touch and words of affirmation, your two favourite love languages, would have to do for now.

“I mean it when I say I love all of you. I promise you don’t have to worry about Mapi and I judging you. I have been so, so excited for this vacation because I get to spend time with you away from our busy lives. Away from the pressure and the stress. We can be just us on vacation, we’re not footballers or ‘celebrities’.” Alexia said that word with such distaste, a slither of an amused smile formed on your face. “I normally find it difficult to fully switch off and relax on vacation during the summer break. But I have a feeling that it will be easy this time, because you help me relax. Did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t.” You admitted. Alexia smiled and ran her thumbs along your cheekbones.

“It’s true. When I am around you, it is like all my thoughts disappear. All I can think about is you and how… calm I feel when you are around, like everything is as it should be. How happy you are, how carefree you can be, I love it so much. I’m so excited to wake up with you every morning, to go to sleep every night with you, to spend every day with you. You are my favourite thing in this world, engel, nothing could change that.”

Her voice was so soft and sincere, it left no room for any more of your doubts. All you could think about after she finished talking was the adoration in her voice when she spoke about you.

“I’m excited to spend every day with you too.” You whispered shyly, a sheepish smile on your face.

Alexia beamed with a smile then, and her hands dropped from your face as she sat back down in the chair from before. With confusion etched all over your face, Alexia chuckled before she carefully slid you off of the desk and onto her lap, sitting you sideways and turning your head to face her with one hand under your chin. The other arm wrapped around your waist to keep you secure in the position, and when she knew you were comfy, she leaned in and kissed you. It didn’t last too long simply because of the smiles on your faces.

The blonde rolled her eyes as you laughed quietly, a grin full of unbridled joy on Alexia’s face as you rested your elbow on her shoulder and started combing through her hair in a soothing gesture. You hoped the minor action would communicate how grateful you were for Alexia and how she always knew exactly what you needed to hear, even if your words couldn’t get that point across.

“We will have the best two weeks ever.” Alexia sighed in contentment, her eyes falling shut as her forehead fell forward to rest on your cheek.

“If I carry on doing this, you’ll fall asleep, won’t you?” You teased after a moment of quiet, shaking your head when Alexia hummed noncommittally.

“No, because I am thinking about how I get to see you in a bikini everyday for two whole we- why did you stop?”

“I can’t believe after the conversation we just had that you would say that.”

“It’s the truth, I can’t wait to- ow! Don’t pinch me like that, cariño!”

—

A day as monumental as the Champion’s League final where you were running on adrenaline the whole time, it either led to an energy dump where you slept for twelve hours, or to a night where you didn't sleep at all.

On this occasion, it was the latter. There were so many feelings coursing through your veins and, not even Lisbon’s top hotel with the comfiest bed you’d ever seen with your girlfriend beside you could lull you to sleep.

Sleep was something you'd always struggled with, even since you were a baby, so you were well versed in dealing with it. When it hit 7am the day after the final, despite the fact you and Alexia had only reached your hotel room after 2am, you got ready for the day and headed out on a walk.

The previous night of celebrations was the cherry on the cake of the biggest win of your life. Most of your teammates were so drunk, you'd be surprised if they even remembered their own names when they woke up, but you remained sober the whole time. It allowed you to take everything in, to bottle up the experience of winning the one title you had dreamed of all along so that you could remember the feeling forever.

So you walked mindlessly around the city of Lisbon, looking around in awe at the sights and scenery around you, until you found yourself along the coastline. You found a bench and sat with the beautiful view and your thoughts. With the city waking up behind you as the waves lapped against the cliffs below, it was then that everything sunk in. You weren’t sure how long you stayed there, deep inside a daydream about how far you’d come.

You thought about your time in Norway and all the challenges you had faced there. You thought about Germany and everything you overcame even when it seemed impossible. You thought about Spain and how much you’d achieved but not in terms of football, even though a quadruple was pretty damn impressive. Instead, you just smiled, because all you could think about was the fact that yes, you’d had meltdowns and days where you couldn’t physically bring yourself to get out of bed, but those were things that would happen no matter what. What was different was how open you were, how you allowed people in even when your brain tried to reject the vulnerability you desperately wanted. Those things and many others had enabled you to perform better than you ever have before, as well as letting you get close to your team in ways you never had in the past… literally.

It was only when you heard a certain Spaniard calling your name that you realised you had been sat there, watching the world go by for god knows how long, paying no mind to your actual life instead of the endless stream of daydreams going through your head.

“Hola, preciosa! What are you doing here?” Mapi slid into the space beside you with a cheerful grin, a pair of sunglasses seated on her nose with the string you always teased her for around her neck.

“I went for a walk, couldn’t sleep.” You told her with a smile, watching as she nodded before averting her eyes to the view in front.

“No, I didn’t sleep much either.” She hummed distantly, a hint of a smirk on her face that had you scoffing.

“I think I can imagine why.” You muttered, shaking your head at how her smirk only deepened.

“Sí, they have really great champagne at our hotel, you know? Makes for a fun night.” With a roll of your eyes, you elbowed the defender in the side and grinned at the yelp of pain she let out. “You are just jealous.”

“Sure. The only thing I’m jealous of is the fact that Alexia is back at the room sleeping still.” You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest. Mapi’s excitement faltered a little then, a small frown forming on her face as she slung an arm around your shoulders.

“You did not sleep at all?” She wondered in concern.

“No. Not for a second.” You sighed, leaning into Mapi when she pulled you closer to her side.

“That is what vacation is for- staying in bed the whole time.” She said, before pausing. “Ay, I did not mean for that to sound… dirty.”

You rolled your eyes yet again, though you smiled regardless. You really valued your friendship with Mapi. She didn't have to be your friend just because you knew her girlfriend, but she chose to anyway. That wasn't something you took for granted.

“How'd you know I was here anyway?” You asked out of curiosity because really you had no idea where you were.

“I was going to get some coffee for me and Ingrid from a place a few streets away from here, then I saw your location so I came to check on you.” She replied simply, a sweet smile on her face that emphasised the kindness embedded in her words. “So, how are you?”

“I'm tired but okay. I'll live.”

The defender to your right nodded in understanding, though the two of you fell silent after that. All that could be heard was the coastal city waking up behind you and the waves hitting the rocks below. It was peaceful, perfectly serene, and exactly what you needed after such an intense day. In fact, the landscape around helped to ground you. Not everyone has the chance to experience playing football in front of tens of thousands people packed into one stadium, which also means not everyone understands how strange it is to go from that company to this silence, save for the sound of the passing world. Those two contrasted each other so heavily, even after being in this career for over a decade, it was still hard to get your head around it. That was one of the reasons why you eventually decided that this vacation would do wonders for you.

It served as a perfect, necessary reminder of what your life actually was away from the football pitch when you were getting so wrapped up in the intensity for it. If you basked in that intensity for too long, it would do more damage than good. So yes, the vacation was a tremendous idea, because being sat there with one of your closest friends and taking in all of the calmness that the earth had to offer was so important to you and your mental health.

“What about how you feel after winning your first Champion’s League?” Mapi turned back to you and asked a question she hoped she would hear a positive answer to. Ingrid and Alexia had both been aware of your struggles with impostor syndrome and feeling like you belonged, so the query was a bit of a loaded one. She couldn’t have been happier for you when she heard your response.

“I feel good. I’m overwhelmed, but not… not in a bad way? Like, I don’t feel anxious at all, which is new. I just feel happy. It’s all sunk in this morning and I don’t feel like I’m drowning under all the new emotions I feel. I’m… happy. My chest doesn't feel suffocated like it does when I feel anxious, it feels light because I know I'm happy. And I'm proud of myself.”

You were proud of yourself.

That was a statement you had probably never made and meant it until that moment. But you were proud. You made this life for yourself and you allowed yourself to reap the benefits and thrive, anxiety-free. This might be the peak of your career and you weren’t even afraid of that fact, it didn’t fill you with fear or doubt. It filled you with pride.

“You should be so proud of yourself. I am so proud, Ingrid I know is so proud she could cry. She did cry actually, when we were walking back to the defence after you scored yesterday, I looked at her and she had tears in her eyes.” Both her arms came to wrap around you as she squeezed you tight, somehow resting her chin on top of your head despite being the shorter one.

“She's gonna be mad that you outed her like that.” You said, but there was love swelling in your chest at the thought of your best friend being so happy for you, she basically cried. That was unfathomable to you.

“Hm, well, she's done worse to me. She will forget about it when I bring back coffee and breakfast in bed to her. You want to come with me, get something for Ale? It is easy girlfriend points.” She grinned at you and it was easy to give in, not that it would have taken much convincing anyway.

“Sure. You have to lead the way though, I have no idea where I'm going.”

Mapi did lead the way, taking you to a café hidden away in a side street that had the most amazing pastries on display in the window. Even hours later, Alexia hadn’t called yet, which you knew she would when she woke up, so you took that as a sign that the blonde was still asleep. She’d had a few drinks at the party but not much, though you figured she would still wake up feeling a little rough. As you waited for Mapi to order, stood in the queue behind her, you smiled at the thought of Alexia still snoozing away back at the hotel. And as ridiculous as it was, you couldn't wait to get back to her.

A while later, you let yourself back into the hotel room, a cardboard drinks tray in one hand and a paper bag in the other. The door shut too heavily for your liking behind you, and you grimaced at the disgruntled huff that came from the bed in the main room. Though, you couldn’t help but laugh quietly at it as you padded your way over to where the sound came from. After placing everything down on the bedside table, you slipped your shoes off and clambered onto the bed. Alexia lay on her stomach, her arms crossed under her pillow as she hid her face to block out the light.

“Alexia.” You hummed, lying beside her and leaning up on one elbow whilst your other hand softly ran up and down her bare back, save for the sports bra she wore. “Wake up, Ale.”

“No.” She grunted, not moving an inch. You laughed again at her, to her annoyance, and she turned her head in your direction to glare at you with one eye.

“It's ten in the morning, lazy bones.” You whispered, shifting down the bed and copying her position, your faces now right in front of each other.

“Shh. No hables.” She grumbled, closing her eye again and letting out another huff. “Sleep.”

“I can’t sleep, sleep is boring. Waking up to make your girlfriend happy is so much better.” You couldn’t see her mouth, but you saw the way the corner of her eye creased, a sign that she was secretly smiling. She unfolded one of her arms from under her and slung it across your back, pulling you a little closer.

“You did not sleep?”

“No.” You responded dejectedly a few seconds later. Alexia could hear the frustration in your voice, even in her tired state. “I went for a walk instead. And I got breakfast too.”

“Hm, what did you get?” She opened her eyes properly then, and you smiled at how sleepy and peaceful she looked, more than all the times you had seen her in the mornings beforehand combined. If this was the version of her you got everyday for the next two weeks, you weren’t sure you could let it go.

“Coffee for you, and some food. You can decide what you would prefer though it might be the end of us if you choose wrong.” The midfielder hummed and smiled over at you, her hand moving to cup your cheek and stroke the skin there with her thumb.

“You brought breakfast.” She murmured, looking at you so earnestly soft, you didn't know what to do with yourself under her gaze.

“And coffee. For my amazing, lazy girlfriend.”

The blonde didn't even retaliate to your claim this time, she was too wrapped up in you. And as you turned over and sat up to reach over to the bedside table to grab the food and drink, a strong arm pulled you back by your waist.

“Good morning, campeona.”

She smiled lazily before surging up to slowly, tenderly kiss you. It distracted you, pulled every thought from your mind, and you gladly indulged in it, because you could. Because you were on vacation, and you had all the time in the world to kiss your girlfriend as much as you wanted for the next two weeks, just like she had promised.

“What did you get?” She wondered when she broke it off, not a hair out of place meanwhile you were breathless and a little mindless at her actions.

“Um…” You breathed out. “I-I got you a coffee, and then some pastries and a smoothie bowl. Your choice what to have.”

“I think I remember you saying you will break up with me if I have the pastries so I will choose the smoothie.” She smirked, though rather than sitting up she simply just laid back down again. “But I would prefer to lay with you for a bit because I think it is unfair that you left me before I woke up.”

“Unfair? I got bre-” You were cut off by two hands carefully pulling you further down the bed and a body landing heavily on top of you. “Ale, what about breakfast?”

“Breakfast can wait. I want to cuddle with you.”

There was a part of you that knew these next two weeks could quite possibly be the best of your life.

—

The couple days in Lisbon were exactly what you hoped for them to be. A lot of time was spent relaxing, whether that be beside the pool or in the spa or in your hotel room. On the final night, the team held a celebratory dinner at a nearby restaurant that was as chaotic as anyone would expect. All of them went out afterwards to some bar or club, but you decided to slip away quietly with nothing more than a simple text to the group chat and another to Alexia. However, just as you rounded the street corner to get back to the hotel, a hand grabbed your arm and scared the life out of you.

When you turned around, there Alexia was.

“You didn’t tell me you were leaving?” Alexia frowned, a little breathless from running as she came to stand in front of you.

“Those things aren’t really my scene. I thought you would have wanted to stay and celebrate with the team.” You said shyly, crossing your arms over your chest and looking anywhere but at her eyes. If you had been looking at her then, you would have seen the utter confusion on her face as she frowned impossibly more.

“No, amor, I want to celebrate with you.” She stated firmly, gently pulling you into a tight hug and kissing your cheek. “You are part of the team, you are my family. I am pretty sure you are my soulmate, so of course I want to celebrate with you. There’s no fun going to a bar and watching them all get drunk when I know I could be with you. You are always my first choice.”

You couldn’t help the bashful smile that forced its way onto your face where you rested your forehead on her shoulder, and you unfolded your arms from between you both to wrap loosely around her waist. Despite the guilt you felt at dragging her away from your teammates, you couldn’t help but revel in the fact she had chosen to stay with you instead. Even if it was just another evening spent in the hotel room, neither of you could deny that it was so much better than being surrounded by twenty-something drunk people, especially with a flight to Madeira the next morning.

Said flight was painful for a certain Spaniard, and it wasn't your girlfriend. You and Alexia arrived bright and early at the airport, checking your bags in before heading for breakfast at one of the restaurants they had there. About half an hour after you arrived, Ingrid showed up with an amused look on her face, which was initially confusing before a rough looking Mapi rounded the corner. She had sunglasses on, headphones, a hat, and her travel pillow around her neck. You and Alexia couldn't help but laugh.

“Don't annoy her. She's threatened to cancel the villa booking since it's in her name.” Ingrid murmured, sliding into a chair beside you as the defender slowly made her way over.

“Oh, she wouldn't dare.” Alexia grinned, and you could tell by the glint in her eyes that she was about to fully take advantage of the situation approaching her. That situation being a very grumpy, very hungover Mapi León.

As soon as the shorter woman sat down, Alexia patted her on her back in ‘greeting’ before slinging her arm around her shoulders and yanking her headphones off. It only got worse from there.

The seats for the flights were in pairs, two in one row and another two behind them. Rather than sitting with you, Alexia quickly side-stepped Ingrid and took her seat next to Mapi. This side of her was something you didn't see often, but you couldn't lie and say you weren't loving it. She had turned into a menace towards her best friend, there was no other way to describe it, and if Mapi wasn't so annoying like Alexia was now all the time, you and Ingrid might have felt bad. But you didn't.

In fact, the in-flight entertainment provided by your captain was better than any movie you could have watched. You knew Mapi would get Alexia back when she wasn't feeling like she'd been run over by a truck, but you kept your mouth shut for your own selfish wishes to see them both bicker it out for two weeks. Ingrid barely blinked an eye at the two’s behaviour, she had seen it for the past four years she'd been at Barça, whereas it was still a novelty to you and you thought it might always be.

“I’m not sure those two will make it out of this vacation alive, nevermind as friends.” Ingrid commented, making you laugh as you heard Mapi scold Alexia once more whilst your girlfriend pleaded her non-existent innocence.

You both watched the pair of them for a little longer before you dived off into conversation of your own, leaving those two fools to their own accord. It was a fairly short flight, so a little over two hours since you found your seat, you were heading down the steps with Alexia behind you as Mapi stormed off ahead.

Not that you were entirely surprised, the taxi ride to the villa was mostly silent, even when you arrived outside the beautiful house that had been rented for your time here. The shorter defender gave a very brief, mumbled explanation of the layout before trudging away to the bedroom she had apparently designated for her and Ingrid. The door slammed shut behind them, and you had a feeling they, or Mapi at least, wouldn’t resurface until the evening. That left you and Alexia to your own accord.

Your girlfriend was glancing around the room still as you looked over at her with a shyly excited smile, your hands fidgeting with the straps of the rucksack on your back like a child on their first day of school. Alexia took in your silence and sensed your gaze, so turned to look at you, a grin of her own forming.

“I think it’s about time we did some sunbathing, hm?” You suggested, noticing the glint to her eye much the same as the one back at the airport and giggling as she nodded emphatically.

“And I think you should let me choose which bikini you wear.” She murmured, reaching out to link your fingers together and nodding her head for you to lead the way to the bedroom.

It was beautifully decorated, exactly as you pictured a Mediterranean AirB&B to look like, and the view outside was even better. There were some sliding doors leading directly out into the backyard, where there was an outdoor kitchen you could already imagine Alexia and Mapi fighting over who was the chef, as well as a pool and some garden furniture you wouldn’t mind having in your future home one day. Hopefully with Alexia. And maybe even in Barcelona, permanently.

A small amount of unpacking was done, but you both were honestly too eager to transition into vacation mode to focus on boring details like that. As promised, you let Alexia choose which swimsuit to wear and she ushered you into the ensuite to change whilst she picked out one for herself. You finished up before her, so you opened the door to find her staring out the glass at the view of the ocean beyond the garden whilst she finished tying the last knot of her bikini bottoms. She hadn’t heard you, as far as you were aware, so you quietly padded through the room to come up behind her.

Gently, without spooking her, you wrapped your arms around her bare torso and settled against her back, sighing contently. Your hands sat on her hips where there was only a small string separating you from her soft skin, and her larger hands covered yours when she moved them. Neither of you spoke, both more than happy to indulge in the silence and the company of the other.

This, you could quite confidently say, was bliss in all its entirety.

Hundreds of miles away from home with nothing planned but to spend time with your girlfriend and two of your closest friends. Doesn’t get much better.

—

“Alexia, for the last time, hurry up!” You groaned whilst pounding your fist on your shared bedroom door.

You, Alexia, Mapi, and Ingrid were all set to go for dinner on the third night, finally deciding to actually spend time as a four rather than staying in separate sickeningly-sweet loved up bubbles as couples. However, Alexia had kicked you out of the room as she finished getting ready, leaving you stuck in the lounge with two women that could hardly bear tearing their eyes away from the other.

“What is she doing in there?” Mapi asked in amusement, a smirk to her face that only added to your frustration.

“I have no idea but she is going to make us late.” You sighed, slumping down on one of the sofas.

Still, a few more minutes passed by and there was no sign of Alexia. The three of you could hear her in the other room, yet you were left alone with two women that looked like they wanted to jump each other’s bones everytime they caught the other’s eyes.

“Can’t you guys stop eyefucking each other for more than five seconds?! God.” You scoffed, shaking your head as Ingrid blushed and Mapi grinned manically.

“I cannot help it. Look at her!” The defender argued, only for the bedroom door to open as she was talking.

“Look at who?” Alexia wondered, trying to hide her smile when everyone in the room turned to her, especially you. “We can go now.”

“Finally.” Ingrid grumbled, grabbing Mapi’s hand and leading her outside where the taxi was waiting.

Meanwhile, you were still hung up on the sight of Alexia. More specifically, the dress she was wearing. There hadn’t been many other occasions for her to wear something like she was now, considering you had gotten together in the Winter and had been busy with the tail end of the season… until now. Maybe your behaviour was a little objectifying but you knew she wanted that reaction out of you. Well, she had gotten it.

“Engel?” She hummed, trying to avert your attention back to her eyes. “Oye.”

“Hm?” You blinked up at her, rather gormlessly. Then you snapped back into reality and out of your… daydreams. “Sorry! You just… ugh.”

“I guess that is a good reaction?” She smirked when you dropped your head into your hands.

“When the hell did you buy that?!” You exclaimed as you abruptly stood up, eyes almost bugging out of your head.

“After the Madrid game! You were in bed next to me when I was ordering online!” Alexia laughed at the situation she found herself in; deep down, a tiny part of her was weirdly proud of herself for guessing that you'd react like this. She was learning, something she worried about. Even if this occasion was unrelated to it all, and only about your… attraction. To her.

“Well, I- it's ridiculous! Ridiculous that you are dressed like that! And I thi- this is unfair! Taking advantage!” Safe to say, your mind was in overdrive.

“I'm taking advantage? I had to tell you to look at my face!” This back and forth, it was addictive. It wasn't arguing, it was a love language.

“Because you look too fucking good for me to react normally!” You pinched the bridge of your nose and took a deep breath, attempting to regain some composure. All it took was one look back at Alexia for it to fly straight out the window. “Okay, we have to leave, like, right now.”

At that, you turned on your heel and started marching towards the door. Only, there were footsteps following behind you that sounded awfully faster than your own. That thought became a fact when a hand grabbed yours and stopped you in place by the front door. Before you knew it, a body was in front of you and two hands were on your face, tilting your head up as lips crashed against your own.

It was the kind of kiss that melted your mind completely, your mouths moving together in a perfectly rehearsed harmony, charged with hunger. You didn't have time to think as Alexia controlled it, deepening it and suppressing her grin when you whimpered desperately. Dinner was the last thing on your mind at that moment, but the same couldn't be said for your girlfriend, who pulled away just as you had caught up.

“Come on. Let's go.” She said simply, using her thumb to wipe away a bit of smudged lipstick before turning to open the door. You were frozen on the spot still, since your world had stopped turning when the blonde had kissed you and it was taking a little while to start spinning again.

“You… kiss me like that again and we'll never get anything done, ever.” You replied breathlessly, staring up at her like she was the only person that existed apart from you.

“No, I can think of many things I would do.” Alexia shrugged, the corner of her mouth twitching with her stupid smirk.

“The universe hates me.” You grumbled, pushing her out of the way to open the door and storm out.

And it was just your luck that you opened the door to the taxi and the last seat available in the back was next to Mapi. Alexia had already taken up the front seat beside the driver.

“Can't you guys stop eyefucking each other for five seconds.” The shorter defender mocked in a high pitched voice under her breath, yelping and almost scaring the driver when you elbowed her sharply in the side.

After that incident, the four of you made it to the beach-side restaurant thankfully unharmed. When you arrived, the sun had just begun to set, turning the sky a hazy orange colour that perfectly matched the beautiful set-up of the restaurant.

Your table was right beside where the golden sands of the beach began, trailing off into the distance where the calming ebb and flow of the waves began. You knew, as you took your seat so that the view was on your left, you would most likely spend more time gazing off into the horizon than partaking in the dinner conversations. What was even better, though, was the fact that none of the three you were with expected anything less, yet they still chose your company time and time again. Alexia sat beside you to your right, and once the starters of the meal had been decided, your eyes immediately averted to the left. It didn’t take long before a hand settled on your thigh, palm facing upwards for you to hold with one of your own whilst the other took turns fidgeting with her rings, her bracelet, or just mindlessly tracing shapes across her already tanned skin.

There was something so comforting about being in a group of people that were your closest friends, knowing that the rest of them would happily take up slack of the conversation whilst you sat and listened. It was weirdly relaxing, being surrounded by people you love, and who loved you enough to let you unmask and bask in their company in whatever way you wanted to that day. Turns out, you were in a quiet and content mindset, having let go of the inhibitions that held you back in most other settings and being whole-heartedly yourself. Not for a second did Ingrid, Mapi, or Alexia shy away from that, and whether you were in a mood where you could talk for the whole of Europe, or you just wanted to mindfully enjoy the setting you were in with the presence of your favourite people in the world, they were happy because you were happy.

Shortly after the dinner orders were placed, the starters came and went, the other three passing their dishes around for each other to try them whilst you were more than content with your own… even if Mapi did try and steal some off your plate. It was then that one of the waiters came over and said the main meal might be a little longer due to it being a busy evening, something that didn’t bother any of you, not much could in such an incredible location. But, you decided to come up with an idea to pass the time after seeing others scattered up and down the beach doing the same thing.

“Ingrid, come with me to take some photos on the beach. The lighting is perfect.” You suggested, your best friend nodding eagerly and immediately standing whilst reaching for her own.

Before Alexia and Mapi could get a word in, you and Ingrid were already out on the beach, shoes slipped off and left behind as you walked closer to the sea. The two Spaniards allowed the silence to sit between them as they both watched the women they loved, separate soft smiles on their faces that held the same meaning. They let it be for a while, occasionally sipping from their wine and laughing at something you and Ingrid did, until Mapi spoke whilst her eyes stayed glued to her girlfriend.

“Those two are something, no?” She commented, Alexia humming in agreement as her smile grew wider, cheeks starting to ache. Mapi turned to look at her then, though there were no teasing tones to her voice, only sincere honesty. “I heard a movie director say something once. He said that time goes on but friendship doesn’t age. When you have known someone from when you were younger, no matter how old you turn, when you’re together again you instantly revert back to being the ages you were when you met. Those two met when they were teenagers, and when they’re both in this mood together, it’s like they’re sixteen all over again.”

Alexia looked at her friend, her eyebrows raised a little, not expecting the defender to say something… quite so profound. She’d hit the nail on the head with it though, because when she turned back to her two favourite Norwegians, all she could see was a joy that wasn’t quite childlike, but something strangely akin to it. The realisation made her heart ache, unknowingly raising a hand to rest over the organ that had been unnoticeable to her before you came along. You had stoked the fire and made it come alive, she believed, even if that made no sense at all.

“Since your girl moved here, I have seen a different side to Ingrid. I feel like I have fallen in love with her even more because of it.” All Alexia could do was nod, because she was truly speechless. Anything she could say in that moment wouldn’t live up to the pricelessness of the conversation.

Meanwhile, some hundred metres away, you and Ingrid were none the wiser.

“What is happening over there?” You said to Ingrid, distracted by the two left back at the table as they… stared at each other?

Ingrid, behind the camera as she photographed you in front of the ocean and the setting sun, stood up straight and turned around. She huffed in amusement at it and shook her head, turning back to her phone to look at the photos so far.

“They’re probably in some kind of stand-off. Idioter.” You smiled at the Norwegian term directed at them both, but it didn’t exactly seem like they were arguing.

“No, it looks like they’re both in some American movie, like they’re about to stand up and dramatically hug the life out of each other. Like it’s the first time they’ve seen each other since coming back from the war or something. So dramatic. I’m weirded out, and a little scared to go back over there.” Ingrid laughed and you did too, laughing at the ridiculousness of your words and whatever was happening back at the restaurant.

You joined them not so long after, the Spanish pair seemingly have gotten over whatever it was that was happening and brushing it off. You figured that it didn’t matter and forgot about it as soon as your dinner was placed in front of you later, though Alexia had pulled your chair a little closer when you had sat down, something that had you blushing unnecessarily, which Alexia didn’t miss.

However, Mapi’s words had sparked something in Alexia, adding fuel to the fire of a thought she'd had for a while already. You could tell there was something on her mind throughout dinner, when you weren't distracted by the scenery around, but you decided to leave it until you got back to the villa later.

The thing is, from the moment Alexia realised that she might actually have a chance to love you, she was worried that she wouldn’t be the right partner for you. So she made an oath to be the best version of herself, the most selfless and dedicated and caring partner she could be. It had worked out so far, though she was only human after all. The doubts still crept in, sometimes keeping her up at night, anxious that she didn’t know enough or that she wasn’t trying hard enough. She worried, overall, that she wasn’t enough. If only she knew.

“Alright, what’s up with you? What’s on your mind?” You hopped up on the bathroom counter later that night as Alexia stood in front of the mirror to take off her makeup.

“Nothing, why?” She brushed it off, saying the one word that meant the exact opposite to what it tried to convey.

“You have been oddly quiet since dinner, Ale, I wanna know you’re okay.” You told her, watching the tiny frown that tugged at her lips at how she’d been caught out.

She washed her face quickly, drying it afterwards on the towel before sighing and turning to lean back against the countertop as she figured out what she wanted to say. Opening up about months worth of anxiety wasn’t what she planned for vacation, she had spent so long shoving them down and hiding them, she never really… planned for them to become a shared thing. Just a burden she didn’t want to drop upon anyone else.

“You don’t need to hear it, it’s nothing, really.” She shrugged. You saw right through her, like always.

“No, what I need is for you to be okay, and not encumbered by thoughts that would be much easier on you when you can tell me. A sorrow shared is a sorrow halved.” You told her, smiling softly when she turned her head to look at you. She nodded then, and you didn’t miss the gulp when she averted her eyes away again.

“I make you happy, right? I… am I a good girlfriend?” Her voice, even in the quiet of the bathroom, could hardly be heard. But you heard it all, from the vulnerability and fear in her tone to the gravity of her words.

“Come here. Stand in front of me.” Even though she was confused, she did as you said and stood between your legs, unable to stop herself from leaning into your touch when your hands settled on her cheeks. “I can’t fathom that you have these thoughts, Alexia, because loving you and being loved by you is the best thing to ever happen to me. Nobody makes me feel the way that you make me feel. Nobody makes me feel more seen, and… normal. Like I’m more than the label I got stuck with. You don’t make me feel like I’m childish for needing more help with things than most people my age, you don’t make me feel stupid for not being able to cope with certain environments, and you definitely don’t make my meltdowns seem so scary when… I know you’re there to help me pick the pieces back up. You make me the happiest I have ever been, and, to me, you are the best person in the world.”

Alexia didn’t quite know what to do with herself, under your gaze as you spoke the most meaningful words she thought anyone had ever said to her. Her eyes burned with the threat of tears, and to hide that, she turned her head to quickly peck your palm before moving forward and wrapping her arms tightly around you. She carefully slid you closer to her on the counter, so you crossed your ankles behind her back and returned her heartfelt embrace, knowing it was the one thing she could do in that moment to try and express her gratitude.

One conversation wasn’t enough to entirely dispel her doubts, you both knew that, but Alexia was caught off-guard at the effect your words had on her. Then again, she was always happy to be surprised by you and each unravelling of your character, because like Mapi had said earlier that evening, she just fell more and more in love with you.

“What would I do without you?” She breathed out into your neck, smiling when she felt goosebumps rise on your skin.

“Well, maybe you wouldn’t be a four-time UCL winner, so that’s one thing.” You couldn’t help yourself, and it was worth it when the blonde lifted her head up and laughed. “But, really, please don’t hide these things from me. I can handle it, all I want to do is help, and I don’t like the thought of you going through stuff like this alone.”

“I know you can handle it, engel, I don’t doubt that you can. Sometimes, being open like that doesn’t come so easy to me. I’m not really… used to it.” She looked down as she spoke, her hands on your thighs messing with the hem on each leg of the shorts you wore.

“I know. And I don’t take it for granted when you are, it means a lot to me. I just want to help you and care for you in the same way you do for me.” The midfielder glanced back up at you and smiled, her thumbs tracing light circles on your sun-kissed skin.

“You do. You really do. I love you.” Alexia stated with a glint in her eyes that told you exactly how she was feeling… as did the fingertips that slowly started making their way higher up your thighs.

“Te amo, Ale.” You hummed against her lips as you linked your arms behind her neck and quickly pecked the corner of her mouth. When you went to move back, there was a hand under your chin that gently pinched your cheeks together and pulled you in for a mind-numbing kiss like the one earlier. You weren’t quite so willing this time. “You taste like garlic.”

“Qué?” Alexia breathed out, eyebrows furrowed as she looked at you in confusion. You just shook your head which Alexia responded to by trying to kiss you again, only for you to cover her mouth with your hand. The blonde tugged it away by your wrist and you had to stifle your laughter at the outraged look on her face. “I can’t kiss you now?”

“Absolutely not. I hate garlic and that’s all I can taste. Disgusting. Brush your teeth please.”

“I have to brush my teeth to kiss my girlfriend!?” She exclaimed, huffing and cursing under her breath as you finally laughed at her.

“If you want to have sex tonight, then yes.” You grinned cheekily at her whilst she glared at you, eyes wide with nostrils flared and all. At that, you hopped off of the counter and scurried away back into the bedroom, leaving a somewhat frustrated but mostly amused Alexia in the ensuite.

—

With this vacation, there were perhaps two things you didn’t think about. The second thing settled a little heavy in your chest as the vacation neared its end, but the other was a welcome distraction. That being that Mapi didn’t really think before she acted sometimes, a trait that was funny… most of the time.

“Wake up, wake up! You will make us late for this hike, and I will not b-” As soon as she was one foot in the room, she cut herself off with a sharp gasp, slapping a hand over her mouth before laughing giddily.

“Fuera! Fuera ahora mismo!” Alexia shouted, clutching the covers tightly against you both so that Mapi didn’t have to see anything else she really didn’t need to see.

“Vale, vale! Lo siento, por favor! Mis ojos, dios.” The defender quickly backed out of the room, shutting the door with a heavy slam. “Get out of bed and get ready!”

You and Alexia stayed silent as the footsteps ran away from outside your room, until you knew the coast was clear. When you knew it was, Alexia slowly pulled the sheets away a little and looked down at you, grins on both your faces that quickly turned into full-blown belly-laughing. Your cheeks were red, completely and utterly embarrassed by what had just happened, whilst Alexia ducked her head into your neck where her lips had been before the interruption. It wasn’t your proudest moment, being caught by Mapi then of all times, but that was long forgotten when Alexia’s mouth resumed her ministrations, only she began moving lower this time.

Another example of Mapi’s spontaneity was when she was so bored out of her mind, seemingly having had enough of R&R, that it meant that nobody else could have an ounce of peace until she was entertained. Really, the three of you should have realised this before the inevitable happened. The previous day had been a long one, the hike was much more difficult than any of you expected, probably as a result of the burning hot Portuguese sun. It had been decided that the day after it was solely designated for recovering, since each of you had aching legs and a healthy side of sun stroke too. Mapi wasn’t best pleased at that decision.

One moment, you were heading inside to get bottles of water for everyone, the next, you were in the water. You had stepped out of the open doors that led into the backyard and thrown two bottles over to Ingrid who was on one side of the pool, a magazine in front of her that she was flicking through, and another two to your girlfriend. She was on the other side, laying on a sun lounger, the one beside her empty where you once sat. The grin on Mapi’s face should have been enough warning for what was about to happen.

Alexia watched the scene before her with a quiet laugh, knowing you would try to fight for her to be on your side, whilst Ingrid barely blinked an eye at it all. Meanwhile, you resurfaced from having been pushed into the pool, gasping for oxygen that promptly left your lungs before being plunged into the warm water unexpectedly.

“Mapi!” You shouted, pushing your hair out of your face and glaring at the shorter woman who was keeled over, laughing so hard she was completely silent apart from the sharp breaths in every so often. “I’m gonna kill you! Why?!”

She ignored you still, so whilst she was thoroughly pleased with herself and distracted by her own hilarious joke, you got out of the pool and gave her the exact same treatment. You heard Alexia laugh behind you too, making you grin whilst Mapi flailed around in the water in the same way you had. Ingrid, unhappy with the commotion now and the splashes that had been sent her way twice already, closed her magazine and glared over at the two of you.

“Children. Honestly.” She grumbled, moving further down the sofa in the hopes of escaping the chaos and trying to stay dry. She had only washed her hair the day before, she refused to get it wet. If only.

“Wait, fuck, look at that over there, is that smoke?” You gasped, pointing off in the distance, immediately averting Mapi’s attention away like the toddler she was. With her focus elsewhere, you turned to wink at Alexia quickly before diving into the pool beside Mapi, a cannonball that sent water everywhere.

Your girlfriend’s approval in the form of some of the loudest laughter you’d heard from her was well worth it, even when Mapi forced you back under by pressing on your shoulders. This back and forth of utterly childish fighting went on for only a minute, in which probably about a quarter of the water was thrown out because of it, and one person eventually had had enough.

The sound of feet slapping against stone could be heard as Ingrid stormed off inside with a huff, Mapi noticing and immediately turning to look in that direction.

“Ingrid, princesa, where are you going?” She asked whilst you and Alexia shared an amused glance.

“To shower, because you two are so annoying.” All it took was two words for Mapi to shoot off after her girlfriend, leaving the two of you outside on your own as they slammed the doors shut behind them.

“Alexia.” You hummed, moving to the edge of the pool and crossing your arms on it. “Get in with me.”

Alexia thought she might have never been happier than she was in that moment, after diving in in the same way you had a minute prior and getting to hear the giggle you let out as she did so. Seeing you so carefree as your true self, not afraid of what anyone thinks, is something she cherished and hoped to witness for the rest of her life.

The third and final instalment of Mapi’s behaviour was her delight in bickering with your captain. In any setting, any scene, she will find a way to push her buttons, and it never got old for you.

On one of the last days of the vacation, when it was a particularly warm evening, it was decided that the outdoor kitchen would finally get used. Yourself and Alexia had gone shopping together to get everything for the night, and Alexia had been chosen as the cook. Something Mapi was not best pleased with.

Throughout the whole duration of the night, you and Ingrid sat on the sofa outside and watched them fight over who did what. It quickly turned into a competition, of what kind you weren’t exactly sure, but it was enough cause for concern for you and Ingrid to come up with a plan that the Spaniards would probably get angry at.

When the smell of burning slowly overtook your senses, you knew it was the right idea.

“Why is there someone at the front door?” Mapi scrunched her nose up in confusion after hearing the doorbell go, meanwhile you jumped off out of your seat and ran inside to get it.

“You two are probably getting told off by the neighbours for being so loud all the time.” Ingrid told her, kicking off yet another argument between them, each one saying they weren't loud and that it was the other's fault. It was like a broken record was playing over and over, every time they spoke.

They went silent the second you stepped outside with two boxes of pizza in your arms.

“Here you go, Ingrid.” You beamed, heading over to the taller woman and handing her one of the boxes. Alexia and Mapi stared at the two of you like you'd just committed a truly awful crime.

“La audacia.” Mapi gasped quietly, Alexia putting her bottle of beer on the countertop with a rather loud clunk.

“No lo creo. Increíble!” Alexia exclaimed, shaking her head whilst you and Ingrid pretended to ignore them.

“Why have you done this to us?!” Mapi shouted, her eyebrows so high on her forehead you wondered how they hadn’t shot off yet.

“María, open that grill. Now.” Ingrid said. Her girlfriend looked at her sceptically before doing precisely that. A not so healthy amount of smoke flowed out immediately. “You spent so long arguing that you burnt everyone’s food. I don’t know about you two, but we are not going hungry tonight.”

“And no, I am not sharing my pizza with anyone. Every man for themselves.” You smirked, purposefully meeting Alexia’s eye as you took a bite and groaned at the taste.

“I am never going on vacation with you again, Mapi.” Alexia grumbled, dramatically slamming down the dish towel that had been on her shoulder onto the counter, beside her beer, and walking away from her shorter friend. She came over to you and went to snatch a slice, only to have her hand slapped away and the lid of the box slammed closed before she could even try again. “Engel, this is not fair!”

“Hm, well, you guys should have thought about that before having an ego-off.”

Mapi and Ingrid were left to their own devices as you deflated a little, watching Alexia roll her eyes and walk away back into the house. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, worrying you had perhaps taken it a step too far this time. Apparently Ingrid wasn’t so happy with your lack of determination to make a point.

“Hey, don’t go in after her, they have to learn!” She argued, but you shook your head and stood up.

“I have to do damage control, I’m sorry! My relationship is still fairly new, you two are like an old married couple! Ale doesn’t mind me being autistic but maybe she draws the line when it comes to food, who knows?” You rambled, only making Ingrid and Mapi laugh as they watched you run after Alexia.

The blonde was in the kitchen, grumbling under her breath and staring into the fridge like her anger was enough to kickstart a miracle in the form of a plate of food magically appearing in front of her. There was a small seed of anxiety beginning to grow, genuinely concerned you had annoyed her, but fortunately for you the solution for that was already planned.

“You are evil. You had no faith in me. Evil.” Alexia complained, closing the fridge and turning to you with an especially grumpy face.

“Well, no, you don’t have any faith in me.” She scoffed at your smug face, though her attitude changed instantly when you reached into the microwave and pulled at a takeout container. You looked at her with a grin and passed it over to her, watching her reaction closely as she took the lid off and breathed out sharply.

“You got my favourite pasta? Even though Mapi and I were acting like stupid teenage boys?” She wondered, a shy smile on her face, seemingly having realised how ridiculous she had acted.

“I did, because my superstar footballer girlfriend can’t go unfed even if she did burn the food I bought.” You grinned. There was a pause, only briefly, until Alexia placed her food down and stepped over to you. Her arms were around you in an instant, sweeping you off the ground and hugging you way too tightly for what was just a serving of pasta.

“So I found someone that finally puts up with my stupidity?” She murmured into your shoulder, nuzzling her nose in the juncture between your neck and collarbone.

“You put up with a lot more than I do, so I should probably put a limit to my teasing at some point.” All she could do was chuckle into the thin material of your shirt and smile, because she was so overwhelmed with complete contentment that her mind was too high on that joy to do anything more complex than that.

Yet, it was that point for you when you realised the second thing you didn’t think about before booking this vacation. The days passed by way too fast for your liking, and a thought you had never had in your life slowly became more and more prevalent.

You didn’t want to go home. It wasn’t feasible in the slightest, but you wanted to stay here forever.

That might not be strange to most people – it was to you. Every vacation you’d ever had, there was always a point where you started feeling a little homesick and burnt out. That couldn’t be further from the truth in this case.

When you got back to Barcelona, you had two days before Alexia was off to international camp before the summer’s tournament, which meant you’d be stuck at home alone with nothing to do but get up and go to pre-season training everyday. Otherwise known as your least favourite time of the year. It was always a challenge to get through, and even though you had Mapi and a few others in training, it would still be lonely. And undoubtedly difficult.

Normally, knowing that you always had football to go back to no matter what brought a great amount of comfort to you. However, on your last day in Madeira as you packed your stuff back into your suitcase, all you felt was a healthy mix of dread and anxiety. The sight Alexia walked in on after doing an emergency shop ruin exemplified that perfectly.

“Min engel, what is happening here?”

Packing for a vacation was something you perhaps weren’t so skilled in, especially when you were feeling how you were. The way you did it, it was an art form. It was a completely and utterly confusing thing for everyone on the outside of your mind, and Alexia received the full brunt of that when she walked in on a scene that could only be described as the aftermath of some kind of natural disaster, or a run-in with the Tasmanian Devil.

You were sat on the floor of the bedroom, with what looked like every single item of clothing you had brought strewn around the room. Not to mention your suitcase, a new one borrowed from Alexia, was in front of you but completely empty. Why, Alexia wasn’t sure.

“I am packing.” You mumbled dejectedly, which was enough for Alexia to feel alarmed.

“This does not look like it is going successfully.” Alexia commented lightly, regretting the words as soon as they left her tongue.

“You think?” You muttered, dropping your phone to the floor and bringing your knees up to your chest, crossing your arms atop them and resting your chin there.

“It’s okay, I can help.” She moved beside you then, glancing around at the chaos and quickly coming up with a plan to get this done as quickly and pain-free as possible. “We can do this, amor. One bit at a time. Do you have your list on your phone?”

“Mhm.” You replied, though didn’t show any intention to pick it back up again.

“I’ll find everything if you just read things out to me, then we’ll figure out getting it all to fit. One step at a time.”

With her years of experience when it came to packing, a not so fun perk of her job, Alexia helped to get the job done in much less time than it would have taken had you done it on your own. You didn’t really do much, too clouded by the swirling cycle of thoughts running rampant through your mind, but Alexia didn’t mind. She never did.

“Bueno! It is closed, finally.” She let out a breath as she set your suitcase upright after taking a while to get it closed. You were sat cross-legged on the bed, eyes averted downwards to where your hands fidgeted with a thread on the cuff of your girlfriend’s joggers that you had stolen from her.

“Good.” You glanced up at her briefly and smiled for a second, before going back to what you were doing a moment ago. Now that the main task was out of the way, Alexia could finally focus all her attention on you.

A quiet sigh escaped her as she sat next in front of you on top of the white sheets, her hand reaching for yours and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“Are you sad to be leaving?” She asked tentatively, and it surprised you a little that she seemed to already know what was disturbing you.

“Yeah, basically.” You mumbled, closing your eyes momentarily when her other hand gently tipped your chin up to meet her gaze. When you opened them again, you saw her sad smile, one that always managed to entice the words out of you, no matter how much you didn’t want to.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” The midfielder whispered. It was like clock-work; your thoughts came pouring out then.

“We’re going back to Barcelona, and we’ll have two days together before you go away for god knows how long. And it’s for football, so I’m excited for you, but I’m… I’m sad. I don’t want to be without you for the summer. It’s kind of stupid how much I’ve come to rely on you but I hate pre-season and when I get home I’ll be burnt out from this vacation even though it was perfect – like honestly perfect – and I’ll be alone and stressed and out of routine, and I just- I’m scared. I don’t want to do it.”

You were rambling, and there was a shakiness to your voice that wholly encapsulated just how anxious you were about it all. When you were finished, you let out a sharp breath and shook your head slightly, biting your lower lip to hide how it trembled. Alexia’s thumb carefully tugged it down to stop you from doing that, before stroking along the skin of your jawline.

“You won’t be alone. I won’t be there in person, but I promise that you can text or call me whenever you need it. No matter when or what it’s about, just call me. And it’s not stupid that you ‘rely’ on me, that’s just what relationships are. I adore you too much to think you rely on me too much or that you’re clingy or whatever, I’ll happily take all that I can get of you because I ‘rely’ on you just as much.” She admitted, a comforting smile on her face now. “We’ll get through this summer, we’ll learn how to cope with the change, together, and then I’ll be back before you know it. Before I go, I will do anything you need me to do to help you adjust back into your routine at home, okay? Not only that, but the team will help you with pre-season too. As will Mapi and Pina and everyone else that will be there with you. You won’t be alone, engel, that I can promise too.”

You knew a lot of your anxieties were irrational, that was one of your most prominent traits. You’d dealt with them all your life, yet they still got under your skin every once in a while. This was one of those occasions, and thankfully it was the type where getting them off your chest lessened the burden of them. Alexia’s words were the bandaid you needed, a temporary fix for now, and some of the tension in your body left with the sigh you let out.

Everybody needed a reminder, every once in a while, that the challenges that faced them weren’t quite as daunting as they seemed at first glance. That’s exactly what Alexia had done for you, and you had a certain feeling she always would. The love she provided you with was second to none, it was the greatest treasure you had come across. Being loved by her truly was an honour, just like you had told her when she was the one with doubts. She made you feel like her equal, like you meant something, which most people did the opposite of for your whole life. That wasn’t something you would forget anytime soon.

There was one thing, however, that your doubts couldn’t dispel: your humour, and for that, Alexia was glad.

“If you’re leaving me for so long, you better win the damn thing.”

—

feel bad that this doesn't exactly have a strict plot point like all my other stories do, since this is just 12k of fluff and that's not my usual style (?) but i wanted to write it anyway so why not post it if it's being written regardless. it's definitely way too long than it needed to be and im not expecting it to be so well loved but i had fun writing it and it brought me a lot of comfort during two very awful weeks. a very self-indulgent one but i hope there's some people that enjoy it :)

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #ingrid engen #mapi leon #barcelona femeni x reader #fcb femení x reader #woso #woso community #fcb femeni

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glotoru · 2 years ago

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ooh baby, ooh baby, i’m in love | eren jaeger.

the note 𐦍 i’ve recently been thinking about a successful, older (early to mid thirties), soft spoken eren who lives to spoil the woman of his dreams—so i’m gonna share this with y’all too. i’m actually just projecting our relationship. not proud of the ending but wtv. part two here. inspired by west coast, lana del rey.

contains 𐦍 nsfw, fem!reader, stupidly rich!eren, established relationship, vaginal sex, mating press, cervix kisses, use of pet names (princess, baby, my wife, the usual yk), unprotected sex, breeding, squirting, softie eren, mild body worship, size kink, hand on stomach while fucking mhm, i love you’s exchanged, praise kink, eren talks to your pussy while he’s in it, i’m thinking black reader but it’s all subjective babes: if you like it, read it!!

truth be told, eren jaeger doesn’t believe he has much to live for.

he’s kept his circle small for all of these ongoing years; with the occasional extension of acquaintances from work dinners, or christmas parties—though, he preferred to slip away from such events when eyes weren’t so…watchful. he likes to think his social battery has drained over the course of his life. looking back at his angstful teenage years, fourteen year old most likely wouldn’t recognize the person he is today.

his once intense nature that resembled an overbearing presence of loud determination turned calm—steadfast and slow to visible anger (with the exception of a passive aggressive comment here and there from simple annoyance). the short hair that once barely covered his nape now fell to his broad shoulders, however, he preferred to keep it up—maintaining appearances while keeping it convenient. the smaller five foot six body grew to an intimidating lean six foot four instead.

however, those things were quite trivial; he knew such changes happened with growth and eventual maturity.

but for a significant chunk of his life, eren was never the greatest with women. he was oblivious—blind to the wandering eyes full of admiration from girls in his classes and workplace—and nose deep in his books. he wouldn’t rest until he was on top of his grades; which he had no problem with. His emphasis on success failed him when it came to the dating scene; to say the least he was shy—and married to his work as well.

but on top of all this, eren was a patient man, and good things always comes to those who wait.

and when a dangerously beautiful woman comes wandering into his life on the street outside of an office dinner he gracefully slipped away from, asking him for an extra five dollars to help pay for her cab home from a no-show date—a woman that has him battling the slew of warning alarms sounding away in his usually zen mind and redefining what he thought was himself—he knows that he’s waited long enough.

simply put, he’s a man of his craft; dedicated to two things. his work, and his wife.

His wife—the phrase has his brain melting into pure grey matter that spills out his body in the form of love. To even think he has the opportunity to refer to you as such is priceless in itself. eren didn’t believe he could love—let alone love this hard. you ask him to run, he’ll say how far; jump—how high?

you’ve changed him—ever since he offered to drop you off in his sleek black mercedes benz parked somewhere by the valet and you giggled in response, saying ‘i’m not usually so trusting of strangers’ will the slightest glint of curiosity in your bright eyes.

and somewhere in between the months, his ten hour workdays turned to six, important software development meetings got pushed back for convenience, the accumulating days of paid time off started being used, for once, his assistant could do their job, and his new focus was you.

diamonds and pearls, nails and hair, dinners on boats and vacations on beaches, shopping sprees on his black card and all of his devotion towards you—only you.

eren…he’s a worshipper—it doesn’t take much for him to get on his knees for you. he’s not ashamed, if anything, he’s proud. he likes to say that anything that’s his, is yours; so who are you to deny what he gives you?

that’s another thing he oh so loves about you—you readily take everything he can offer. you let him take care of you, and he wouldn’t want it any other way; you’re his wife after all.

his wife, his wife.

“my wife…” eren mumbles to himself as he buries his face into the crook of your perfumed neck. the pronounced scent makes his head spin, you can’t fathom how in love with you this man is. as his large hands engulf your own, he’s met with the texture of your wedding ring that cost him over twenty grand, the one you cried over when you saw it in his hands offering it to you—but eren doesn’t think it does his adoration for you enough justice.

he prefers to show you.

while there’s no doubt that material items and dream homes are things you like to receive—there’s nothing better than the way he has you now, one leg resting atop his shoulder and the other barely slung around his waist as he steadily ruts his hips into your own.

oh, how could you be so beautiful? splayed out on the bed like a wicked man’s deepest desires and dreams; the one he secretly lusts for from across the room with no hopes to introduce himself because you’re just so out of his league. your hair is messily draped over the silk pillows, all remnants of your lipgloss/lipstick gone from your parted lips and instead smudged on his own, the gold necklace with his diamond initial was falling into the dip in your neck, and you were gazing at him with need. pure, heartfelt need.

your body arches towards him, manicured hands trailing towards your own chest to play with your nipples that hardened from the low temperature of the room. “i need you eren, make me feel you—i want it.” your voice is smooth, accompanied with a small whine that reminds him just how spoiled you are, and how it’s all his fault.

but he couldn’t care less—you deserve it for wandering into his life to make you his own.

“i know princess, i know.” he knows damn well you need him, he knows, he knows—he’s repeating it as he peppers a kiss to your jewelled ankle before pressing down on the back of your thigh to steady himself.

eren fucks like he loves—endlessly and hard.

maybe that’s why the way he bullies your pussy while bottoming out has you grasping at the threads of the sheets and chanting his name like a hymn followed by prayer. he lets your cunt feel every bit of him, the ridges—veins, down to the last inch. he’s terrifyingly big, another thing you love about him.

his dick feels like it’s mushing your insides, curving up against your spongy walls that oh so desperately tighten around him. every thrust is harder than his last, and the way the trimmed hair resting above his base brushes against your clit provides all the extra stimulation that has your head rolling to the side. your uncontrolled moans turn to sobs when you feel his tip tickle your cervix—and boy does it make him a rejuvenated man.

“look at me.” his words barely register as syllables in your clouded mind—you keep your head turned, eyes focused shut as your body shakes upwards from the fervour of his unrelenting tempo. there’s a lot of things eren can have, and you not watching the way his slick covered dick slips in and out of your weeping pussy isn’t one of them. “you have to look at me pretty girl.” his tone is soft but firm, thick fingers taking your chin in his hands and turning you towards him once again.

“see how well you’re taking me? all of it.” he gives you a million dollar smile, hinting for you to watch where the two of you connect. “your pretty cunt just wants it so bad, right?”

“oh, eren…” it’s always a sudden surprise how soiled his mouth can get at times like this. heeding his request, you watch his cock disappear in your folds—and you sight of it has you fluttering around him like a whore.

“you were made for me, weren’t you? prettiest sight i’ve ever seen.” you’ve heard his praises a multitude of times, having him ramble on about fucking you so much your walls moulded to fit him like a tight glove, only that now, he’s saying it to your pussy instead.

“only you ‘ren, was made just for you.” you babble out, feverishly bucking your hips up to meet his ruts.

when your eyes finally rip away from below and back up to his face, the look he wears has your cunt melting like putty. with furrowed brows, a dip in his forehead and a bitten lip, he watches your body move with each fuck. even in such a sinful position, you were just so divine.

almost subconsciously, his ringed hand moves from your hip and over to your torso, gliding over your pierced belly and stopped at your lower stomach, “I’m right here baby.” gently, he applies pressure to the spot, making your eyes blow open as you moan in response. the feeling gives you butterflies—ones that go straight to your clit and stimulate the nerves in your shaky legs.

“cummin—eren i’m cumming!” you’re rambling, scrambling to push his hand away from your belly, but it’s all too late, and eren knows that well. how could he not? your body is a temple, he’s explored every inch of it, and the sudden vice grip your walls have you him and periodic throb of your cunt is all too telling. your orgasm is drawn out, legs spazzing around your entranced husband, “mm, oh-fuck! yesyesyes eren, don’t stop!”

oh, aren’t you just perfect. his eyes soften when he watches how your mouth hangs open in a silent scream, only to capture it in a languid and sloppy kiss, teeth grazing your plump lips and sucking on them like a sweet. you whine he pulls himself away from your body completely, instead he takes the time to tack his thumb to your puffy clit, rubbing feint circles and the occasional attempted heart on the bud. he always does this, coaxing out the last of your orgasm with nimble fingers that you dream about

“you gonna let me take good care of you?” he asks softly between hushed breaths while grabbing hold of both your legs and hoisting them over his shoulders. helplessly, all you can do is nod; you’re in a trance at the very sight of him. his defined torso is illuminated by the back light of one of the many lamps in your bedroom, his hair is slipping from its captive elastic band, the grip of his hands on your ankles sends searing hot pulses straight to your sensitive clit.

he gives himself a few good pumps, sliding his length between your folds. your wetness aids him in bottoming out once again, but your sensitivity has you squirming in his hold. “gotta stay put baby.” he marvels, talking you into submission, “that’s my girl.”

his praises are followed by the shift of his hands down to the back of your thighs, they gently rub the plush skin before pushing them down to meet your chest. while there are some circumstances where looking down at you sparks something within him, eren likes to be eye to eye with you when he’s balls deep—turns him on even more being in such close proximity with such a captivating woman.

you squeal from the uncomfortable burn in your hamstring from being folded in half with the additional feeling of eren’s body weight on your own. you swear that you can feel your heart palpitating in your ears as you feverishly clench around him. “it’s too much! can’t take it, can’t take it!”

“of course you can, you know you can, your pussy takes everything i give it.” eren speaks between juts, pressing your knees to your shoulder blades as he pistons into you without any regard for decency. his thrust feel like a hammer, knocking your body into the memory foam mattress you begged him to buy.

stars cloud your eyes as he wraps himself tighter around you, head in the side of your neck as he peppers kisses across your skin. your pants and gasps are loud, amplifying the sounds of slapping skin and balls hitting the fat of your ass. his favourite part is when you dig your nails into his back, leaving cresent shaped imprints and jagged lines across it like a painter with a canvas; scars of your love.

deep groans fill your ear, soft and sweet; all eren can ramble about is you—how good you feel, how quick you can make him unravel like a ball of string, how lucky he is to have you in his life—the list goes on.

“i love you—fuck, i love you so much baby, you treat me so well.” with his declaration of love, his pace seems to increase, fucking you dumb and leaving you to heave for whatever air is left to breathe.

“i love you too, so much.” your eyes scramble around in your haywire brain, overloaded by the repeated feeling of the jackhammering going on in your walls and the non-stop cervix kisses he gives you. “it’s all yours, eren; you deserve it, you deserve this pussy. you married this, have it.”

eren jaeger doesn’t believe he’s deserving of much; has he earned things? yes. but you…laying beneath him, telling him he deserves you? it makes him never want to leave—not that he would dream of doing so in the first place.

he does deserve it—your words make his brain malfunction. he deserves it. fuck, you might just be the death of him.

you’re crying for him, grasping at any part of his body possible to get him closer to you than physically possible. your tighten around his base once more, and your hand flies down to messily prod at your clit in an attempt to play with it.

meanwhile, eren’s unrelenting pace falters; that man knows he’s going to cum soon, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do it with you. so he pleads with you to give him one more—telling you that you’ve got another one bundled up in there for him. to say it’s true is unknown, but your body listens to eren, and miraculously whatever he believes will happen comes to fruition.

but your body is delicate—everyone knows delicate things break under pressure. with the unrelenting strain and stretch his dick gives your walls, the tight feeling in your core, and aching numbness in your legs, your buildup feels much more violent—ready to release all built up tension given to you by your husband.

“eren—keep on going like this and i’m gonna make a mess!” you fuss around, hand reaching to gently push his torso away in fear you may soil the freshly made sheets.

“that’s the goal.” he states as a matter of factly, brows furrowing as a suppressed groan bubbles up from his chest at the thought: pretty little face going stupid and clawing at anything within reach as you writhe and cum all over his torso and lower body. you can’t make him budge now that he’s a determined man.

his strokes grow sloppy but powerful, curved cock repeatedly ramming into your spongy spot that force your plush walls to grip around him, “you’re eating me up here, love.” he mumbles, moaning into your mouth in the disguise of a messy kiss.

the last roll that tips you over the rocky edge is a shaky one, the last one he could give before emptying himself into you. it’s thick and hot and you feel it fill you as you twitch underneath him and cover his abdomen with your juices. wordlessly, his hands reach for yours as he stills; soft lips peppering the lining of skin on your cheek.

eren jaeger knows that change is inevitable—it comes with time. but eren jaeger also knows one thing will stay the same; his love and adoration for the pretty girl laying below him.

#eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #eren smut #eren jaeger smut #aot smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #snk smut #eren yeager x reader

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zreamy · 1 year ago

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won't let you go (this time)

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader

summary: back home for good after a semi-unsuccessful first year at university in a new city, you’re looking forward to getting back into the routines of your old life in the town you grew up in but the one person you’d been desperate to see doesn’t seem too pleased about your return :(

genre: angst.. ......... fluff, smut, college au, exes to lovers, second chance romance, slow burn

warnings: minors dni, british in a way that's not vague (might be vague.. it's hard to tell when ur british), so so long, sad heeseung, long paragraphs..

word count: 36,007 .. (apparently, i'm in a competition with myself to see who can write the longest fic)

playlist: seasons wave to earth, understand keshi

author's note: writing this fic was like pulling teeth and then cooking pasta out of it.. bUT IT'S DONE !!! also one of these scenes is smth i reworked from a fic i posted to wattpad in 2021.. thanks @asahicore for the beta u rock ! and as always be lmk ur thoughts (positive/negative/anything) 🤍

fic taglist: @enhastolemyheart

Lee Heeseung had often imagined what it would be like when he saw you again.

Sometimes, he envisioned you standing on his doorstep, playing with the cuffs of your sweater. Other times he’d dream up a chance encounter at the local grocery shop, where you’d be distracted and bump the end of your trolley into his. He’d even pictured a sun-soaked vacation, a gorgeous white sand beach where the temperature would be inching past the thirties. You, laying out on a patterned towel, lost in the pages of a book, and your pretty face obscured by its cover. Yet, even with the sun in his eyes and his poor vision, he’d recognise you without a doubt.

Regardless of circumstance or setting, in all of his hazy daydreams, you’d look up at him with unbridled love in your eyes and say the words he wanted to hear all those months ago: I choose you.

Heeseung had always imagined that his heart might glow in his chest, through his shirt like something from Jane the Virgin, and you’d know you made the wrong decision.

But sometimes, typically when in an alcohol-fuelled state of despondence, these images would be rougher around the edges. Heeseung would be hot, with bleach-blond hair and thick dark brows—a walking, talking beacon of sexual energy when you’d see him. In his head, it would happen at a party or a club somewhere, and he’d be too busy talking to another girl to notice you, his arm hanging off of her, lust clear in his eyes. Somehow, even in sweatpants and an old hoodie of his, you’d still look as beautiful as always.

“Heeseung,” you’d say, completely crushed with tears welling up in your eyes under furrowed brows. “I choose you.”

Reluctantly, he’d draw his eyes away from the girl and notice you, finally, and a smile would spread on his lips, a mean one, condescending. He’d shrug, wrapping his arm tighter around the girl and say, “You’re too late.” He wouldn’t mean it, but he’d say it just to drive you crazy. Make you beg him to take you back for months until he felt you’d suffered enough—as much as he had.

These thoughts were few and far between and mainly followed by hot, guilty tears rolling down his cheeks because he knew it was his fault. After all, he was the one to let you go.

For now though, the little round table in Mark’s backyard seats four, and, in the arms of a balmy summer night, Heeseung chooses the seat closest to the fence. The garden light is still busted so in his seat of choice, furthest from the kitchen door, he’ll go completely unnoticed but still see anyone who might join him outside.

His phone is freezing when he takes it from his pocket and unsurprisingly holds no notifications beyond the outsiiiide text he’d gotten from Jake before the party started. Through Instagram stories, Heeseung watches the night play out from the perspective of people who are enjoying themselves while ignoring the voice in his head that tells him he could be one of those people if he tried.

Maybe he was a fool for believing that tonight would go differently and that the boys would keep their ‘bro’s night’ promise for longer than it took to cross the threshold—but it’s not like he blames them. Maybe he was a fool for believing he would find more company than his somewhat abandoned bottle of Peroni that watches him mockingly from the glass table.

He grimaces after taking a sip from it, remembering that he was only ever carrying it around so his friends wouldn’t feel the need to load him with shots. Now he’s not so sure that would’ve been a bad thing, seeing as he’s completely sober and aware of the tightness in his chest as he scrolls through the text thread he’s had pinned for years. Its end came abruptly; revived only by an ignored blue bubble saying: i heard you’re back home for the summer..

Seeing it now, he regrets hitting send even more than he did two weeks ago. Heeseung hates himself for believing the boys when they said it was a good thing that you opened the message right away. “Means she’s thinking of u 2 dude,” was Jake's message to the group chat (along with four bicep emojis and two red exclamation marks). Jay replied: i hope you guys can talk things out! And Sunghoon didn’t say anything.

All your conversations bring up memories that hurt more than the last but he has to take a break when he reaches a text you sent last January: i had so much fun tonight, hee, idk how to thank u enough :((( i hope ur not in too much trouble.. i love you i love you and i’ll love you forever !!!

He ended up getting grounded for three weeks and lost car privileges for months after staying out four hours past curfew, but he’d do it a million times over if it meant he’d get to see you as happy as you were that night on the two-hour drive back, running your fingertips over the Sharpie autograph of your favourite author on the book’s front page—“Heeseung?”

His jaw falls slack and his whole body stiffens. If you don’t count old videos in his camera roll, Heeseung hasn’t heard your voice in over a year. The back door slides shut and when he finally lifts his head, he wants to throw up. Even without the glow of the kitchen lights on your face, he’d still be able to make out the cute point of your nose, and the slight curve of your soft lips. Unfortunately, the breakup only seems to have made you even more beautiful and he hates himself for wishing you were having a hard time too.

“Hey,” you say. “Can I sit?”

Regaining his mobility, he moves his shoulders in a stiff shrug. The sound of your chair scraping the concrete makes him cringe and he hates that you chose the seat closest to him.

“I didn’t think you’d be here tonight.”

Heeseung scoffs, his brows furrowing defensively. “You didn’t think I’d be at my friend’s party?”

You set your jaw. “Okay.”

An unbearable silence follows, so heavy he can feel it sitting on his shoulders, weighing him down. There’s no way to know how much time has passed but he feels less tense when you start to hum, drumming your fingers against the table to the beat of whatever song the kitchen door is struggling to muffle. If he doesn’t think too hard about the lingering quiet, it feels like everything is okay between you two.

His heart races when you giggle. “You still do that?”

“Do what?”

You smile before mirroring his expression, puffing up your cheeks and exhaling dramatically a few times. Due to the heat, nothing comes of it but you laugh anyway. “You always liked when it was cold enough out to see your breath. I remember having to nudge you every night of summer to get you to stop.”

To Heeseung, there’s something sinister about the fact that you can so easily bring up a memory you share with him. About the fact that even after what happened, his cheeks heat up just from seeing you grin. He deflates, unable to look at you, finding interest in the label on his bottle instead. It’s slightly curled up at its edge, and he runs his thumb over it a few times before peeling it off completely—with some struggle, leaving a sticky patch in its wake. Under your loaded stare, he folds it a little to make a square before trying to craft a swan or a crane (you were the one who knew these things) from the sticker.

Your hands are just as soft as he remembers when your fingers touch his, though it shocks him so much he drops the label, immediately withdrawing his hands and, for lack of a better option, sitting on them. Even softer than your hands is your voice when you say, “I don’t want things to be so tense between us.”

It must be easy, he thinks. For you to say something like that after dumping him. Heeseung wants to laugh, to let his head fall back and cackle from sheer disbelief; you really must have some nerve. Instead, a bitterness, raging and sour, works in his chest, choking the laughter into silence. It pushes his lips into a scowl as he lifts his head to look at you. You’re shivering with your arms crossed over your chest and Heeseung softens. Without thinking, he shrugs off his flannel to drape it over your shoulders, almost regretting it when he fixes his tongue to scold you playfully like he used to. Still too hot for a jacket, right, baby? he wants to say. This is the last time I’m doing this for you, next time you’re on your own. Heeseung figures that somewhere, in another reality where you’re still together, a version of him says these things but continues to give you his flannels and jackets anyway.

He’d give anything to be that Heeseung instead.

Over the last year, he’s been replacing the clothes in his wardrobe. He noticed that during your time together you steadily wore every t-shirt, flannel, and hoodie he owned. Now, as you thank him with a sincere smile, he realises he’ll have to donate his new favourite shirt too.

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask, reaching in to find out. A bleak carton of cigarettes sits full in your hands as you look over at him with wide eyes. “You smoke now?”

“No.” Heeseung shakes his head. “Never.”

Back and forth between your hands, the box and its contents rustle. “Really? Because this—” You pause to pull a lighter from the same pocket. “—and this tell me something different.”

“Sunghoon’s quitting again,” he explains, with air quotes around the word quitting.

“Oh.” You let out a laugh, nodding fondly. “He’s on, like, five weeks or something by now, though, right? Surely you don’t still need to carry these around for him.”

His head tilts so quickly he hurts his neck. With knitted brows, he inspects you. Nothing about your expression seems like you’re trying to hurt him, in truth, you look like you’re being quite sincere; your eyes are wide, curious, and your lips are quirked up at the corners with an amusement he adores. “Six,” he corrects. “How do you know?”

“He told me.”

“You guys still talk?”

A shoulder-dropping sigh falls from your mouth as you put the cigarettes and lighter back in his pocket, raking a hand through your hair. “You’re the only one who doesn’t talk to me anymore,” you say in a small voice.

The five of you stuck together in high school — where he and Jay first met you, Jake, and Sunghoon — and he knew it would be unreasonable for him to expect your shared friends, especially the youngest two whom you’d known longer, to turn on you. He also figured, given how close you’d grown to Jay, and his undying rationality, that his best friend would outright refuse to shun you on Heeseung’s behalf. Even though they didn’t need his permission, he told them that he didn’t want them to feel like they had to pick sides and that he was perfectly happy for them to keep talking to you. On one condition: that none of them tell him anything about you or your life without him unless you’re hurt—a condition they’ve clearly carried out more faithfully than Heeseung expected them to.

Bile rises in his throat thinking about all the things your friends have kept from him about your year away. His heart twists over mundane details like your class schedules and favourite things to eat for lunch, and his eyes sting with tears over the important stuff like new friends and, worst of all, new partners.

Heeseung jolts out of his chair, knocking the table so hard with his thighs that his bottle tips over. You’re quick to catch it. “My mum’s calling,” he blurts out, overwhelmed.

“Heeseung.”

“I really have to go.”

“Heeseung!” you call out, but he’s already back inside.

You don’t follow him.

But that was in June, and now it’s September.

While his friends complain about the chill of autumn, Heeseung’s just happy he can comfortably wear hoodies everywhere again. In a cool lecture hall, home to his Ethics and Responsibility class for the next few months, he relishes the feeling of soft cotton against his ears as he copies the course reading list into the first page of his notebook.

“Is someone sitting here?”

Heeseung’s stomach sinks to the floor. Reluctantly, he lifts his head, and through the gaps in his bangs, he sees you and the way your face falls when you see him, instantly looking around the room.

“Oh,” you say, eyes blown. “I’m sorry, I’ll just..” you trail off.

He scans the room, chewing his lip when he realises that, despite the lecturer not having arrived yet, the seat to his left, with his backpack on it, is the only empty one. “It’s okay,” he says, trying to seem nonchalant as he takes his bag from the chair and puts it on the floor.

“Thanks,” you mumble, frowning a little as you sit down.

In the light of day, he really sees you and a lone butterfly, one he was sure had died with the rest last year, flutters lazily in his stomach—wings buzzing against the lining, tickling him. Even with messy hair and tired bags under your eyes, you’re just as beautiful as the first time he saw you. It’s unfair, he thinks. That you could be dealing with this and still manage to look presentable. Jealousy kills the butterfly, stirring a pit in his belly at the thought that you were able to break up with him and continue with life as normal on the other end of the country, making new friends and new memories as if nothing happened.

Even when Dr. Kim comes in and starts the class, Heeseung can’t take his eyes off of you. You haven’t lost any of your mannerisms, he notices when you stick your tongue out a little while typing notes as the lecturer says them, barely looking up from your laptop to see the slides.

At the end of the lecture, all he has to show for it is the reading list and a couple of bullet points that seemed important as he copied them from your screen. Side by side, you silently walk down the stairs to leave the room, and the sight of Sunghoon through the doorway pulls a relieved sigh from Heeseung’s chest.

Sunghoon’s brows raise seeing you together and he clears his throat when you’re close enough. “Hey, you two! My little study buddies,” he says in a strained voice. “First day back! First day for you, YN, what was that like?” He sounds like he’s reading from a script as he walks between you.

Heeseung lets you answer, listening to your voice as he walks behind you down the stairs. He wonders if things will be this way forever, briefly contemplating throwing himself over the bannister so he doesn’t have to find out. If you’re uncomfortable, you don’t show it, talking excitedly with Sunghoon about the class, mentioning things Heeseung hadn’t even heard, despite having sat through the same hour-long introduction lecture as you. He trails behind the two of you all the way to the library, where Jay is sleeping with his chin on his arms and Jake is staring at the table of contents in his textbook. You cut yourself off, jogging over to the table they’re sitting at to wake Jay. As soon as you wrap your arms around him, he flinches, waking up with his brows pulled together.

“What are you doing?” Jay mumbles, trying to shake you off.

As Heeseung sits beside Jake, he skims over the front page of the textbook, trying to remember what tensile strength means. Sunghoon stands at the end of the table looking at his phone, and you sit next to Jay, pulling your seat a little closer and letting him rest his head on your shoulder. Heeseung looks away, trying to bury the unease building in his stomach.

Sunghoon breaks the silence. “Can we go get food?” And suddenly, you all stand up, filing out of the library towards the Tesco Express down the road.

Jay and Sunghoon take the lead, picking up their lunch without much thought before waiting in line at the self-checkout, while you, Jake, and Heeseung spend an ungodly amount of time weighing up options in front of the meal deals. Heeseung gets the same thing every time but looks at every single sandwich, drink, and snack option just in case before picking up his food.

“Just cheese is crazy, bro,” Jake says, shaking his head. “What’s wrong with you?”

Heeseung shrugs. “It’s reliable.”

“It’s absurd.”

You hum between the two of them, tilting your head thoughtfully. “I don’t know, I think it’s cute.” Your shoulders rise and fall in a casual shrug, almost as if you haven’t just paid Heeseung a compliment for the first time in a year and three months.

Jake’s eyebrows raise, a grin playing on his lips as he glances between the two of you when you step forward, pulling a just cheese sandwich from the shelf too. “Cute,” he repeats. “Sure.”

Outside, Jay and Sunghoon are sitting on a half-finished brick wall, and while normally, Heeseung would say something to interrupt Jay’s never-ending lecture series on making the most of your meal deal, he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself or the small smile he’s struggling to keep off his face.

“Hoon, think about it,” he says, resting his giant can of Red Bull on the stepped brick next to him. “A meal deal costs £3. You get a sandwich, a drink, and a snack, all for £3. You, foolishly, bought a sandwich, a snack, and a bottle of water, you gave them money.”

“Yeah, man, anyone who shops anywhere gives money, that’s, like, an entry-level requirement.”

“But I’m taking money from Tesco, you get it?”

Jake sighs, taking a seat next to Sunghoon. “You’re technically right, but you still paid for your food under a promotion Tesco created. If you really wanted to take from Tesco, you should be stealing your lunch. Also, the sandwich he got was £2.85, and there’s more water in his bottle than Red Bull in your can, so I actually think Hoon got the better offer today.”

Beside Heeseung, you roll your eyes, wrestling with a packet of crisps while juggling everything in your hands. Seeing your struggle, he reaches over, taking hold of your drink and sandwich. “Thanks,” you mumble, smiling. You glance towards Jay and Sunghoon, then back at Heeseung. “Are they always like this?”

He nods with a slight frown. A tiny laugh comes through your nose as you nod too.

During the walk back to campus, as you split your sandwich with Sunghoon, Heeseung has an unsettling realisation. If he wants to get you back, he’ll have to start out being your friend. He’s not too sure what that will look like, seeing as the two of you were friends for six weeks — that he spent hopelessly in love with you — before he asked you out. All he knows is he wants to be the one you share your lunch and link arms with unthinkingly. While he assumes that your shared friend group and three out of four classes will naturally lead to friendship, things might go better if he makes an effort.

He doesn’t.

Not today at least. The second and last class of the day ends much like the first, with a heading in his notebook, and slowly reviving butterflies in his stomach every time your knee bumps into his under the desk. Again, neither of you says much as you leave the class to go meet Jay in the library. He’s awake this time, grinning at the girl across from him.

“They’re so cute!”

“They’re talking.”

“Yeah, in a cute way. Look at the smile on his face,” you say as if anyone could miss Jay’s grin or the way it widens when he notices you and Heeseung staring.

Yunjin immediately looks over, waving before getting out of her seat to come over. She greets Heeseung with a hug before flinging her arms around you, gushing about how it’s been so long. Heeseung feels his brow raise when you giggle and say, “We hung out two weeks ago.”

She loosens her hold on you, looking down into your eyes with a shocked look. “Yeah, two weeks too many. What are you doing later?”

It feels like Heeseung skipped a chapter and his stomach hurts when he realises he has—a whole year's worth of the contents of your life. Of course, Jay already introduced Yunjin to you, of course, you’re already friends.

Leaving you with Yunjin in the library, Heeseung and Jay walk back to their flat. They take the long route home, through the winding bike path and over the creaky footbridge by Sunghoon’s old apartment. Jay is eerily quiet, only responding in nods and hums—this silence means one of two things, he’s either too exhausted to speak or he’s saving his words to reprimand Heeseung at home.

Outside their flat, Jay hesitates, gripping the handle tightly before turning to Heeseung. In his eyes is a familiar look, the one he typically wears before telling someone off and Heeseung bites his tongue lest he pisses Jay off even more. A few times, Jay opens his mouth but doesn’t speak, exhaling a deep sigh as he rests his head against the door. “I want you to know I’m on your side, sort of,” he says. “If it’s too hard being around YN, we can always hang out together instead, just us.”

Jay’s key clicks in the lock and Heeseung watches, shocked. He didn’t expect that at all.

“It’s not like it’s hard, just weird, you know?” Heeseung runs a hand through his hair, leaving his shoes by the door while Jay locks it before following him into the living room and sinking into the couch. “We have the same friends, so I can’t avoid her, but I don’t think I want to.”

“Like I said, we can just hang out on our own if we’re on campus.” Jay pauses for a beat, clearly pleased by whatever he’s thinking about as a smile spreads on his face. “It might do you some good being around her though, like, to see why none of us want to date her.”

The offer is generous and Heeseung spends a while considering it. But as Jay said, it probably would be a good thing to hang out with you if he wants to build the friendship he finds himself craving.

“It might also do you some good to, you know.. start looking nice again. It’s been a year, dude, and she’s back now, don’t you want her seeing what she’s missing out on?”

Heeseung cocks his head to the side, surprised and honestly a little offended. “Are you saying I’m ugly now?”

“No, I’m saying it probably wouldn’t hurt to put some essence in your hair, touch up your roots, and, you know, use deodorant.”

Reflexively, he grabs the pit of his hoodie, bringing it to his nose and sniffing furiously. The only thing he can smell is fresh detergent and he looks at Jay with a frown. “So you think I should change everything about myself basically.”

“I hate to be the one to say it..” Jay trails off, head falling back in contagious laughter. “Seriously though, if you want her back or, at least, want her to miss you, start putting some effort in.”

Heeseung’s eyes are wide as saucers. “She doesn’t miss me?”

“You spent the whole day together, why would she miss you?”

“So she doesn’t.”

“I didn’t say that.” Jay shrugs.

Outside, a cloud moves away from the sun, letting it shine right through the window and into Heeseung’s eyes. He squints a little, groaning before bringing his arm over his face to shield himself. Jay laughs and Heeseung flips him off. “You didn’t really say anything.”

“Are you crying?” Jay coos.

“Sure.”

“Too bad, I’m taking a nap. Club later?”

Heeseung grunts in response, considering taking a nap too.

A dramatic sigh tugs its way from Jay’s chest. “Look, it’s not my place to say, but she told me a few months ago she was miserable in first year, something about wanting to see some guy she dated in high school.”

“You knew she was coming back?” Heeseung practically jumps in his seat, sitting up straighter. “You knew I’d see her today and you let me leave the house looking like this?” It’s not like he looks bad in his oversized black hoodie and sweatpants but he might have taken the time to do more than run a hand through his hair this morning if he knew.

Jay holds his hands up defensively. “You said you didn’t want to hear anything about her unless she died. I was just doing what you told me to.”

“I think it goes without saying that that would’ve been a nice thing to know.”

“Noted.” Jay nods. “Club later?”

Despite saying no, Heeseung finds himself at the club anyway, having a friendly dance battle with Jay while you hype them up, filming blurry videos with your finger over the camera lens. Jake and Sunghoon came out too but went off to find girls.

Heeseung spent all of pres and the journey to the club worrying about being drunk around you. Or rather, worrying about being drunk around drunk you. Drunk you who typically gets clingy and oversentimental just looking at a bottle of vodka, or brings up old memories and uses pouty, gloss-coated lips to say things without thinking of the consequences. For better or for worse, you haven’t done any of that yet.

Between knocking back drinks and rivalling the club photographer, you find time to make a look of disgust every time a guy comes near you, immediately shaking your head and pressing yourself against Heeseung before mumbling an apology in his ear each time, even though he tells you it’s okay. Your admirers start to dwindle when he dances with you to a song you like, letting you hold his hand and pull him closer, all while wishing he’d stayed asleep on the couch.

It’s only when the fifth guy shows up with a stupid smirk on his face, that Heeseung speaks up. His arm finds your waist and he holds you close as he looks at the stranger. “Dude, leave her alone,” he says, angling his shoulder to him in an attempt to shield you. “She’s not interested.” The weight of his words is lost on him until the guy rolls his eyes, shrugging and mumbling whatever as he leaves.

He saw how uncomfortable you looked after being approached and hated how long it took for you to start enjoying yourself again, so in the moment, it seemed like the right thing to do. To look after you. But now, as he stands with his hand on your waist, his skin touching yours at the hem of your shirt, he’s starting to feel like he’s crossed a line. It’s the worst possible time to freeze in place but there’s nothing he can do about it, and Jay staring at him, with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, isn’t exactly helping.

With embarrassment burning his cheeks and neck, Heeseung finally looks down at you. You look almost as shocked as Jay for a split second before letting your hand rest on his chest, smiling. The moment feels endless until you lean up to his ear and Heeseung has to bend down a bit. “Thank you, Hee,” you say, still smiling when you pull back.

All he can do is nod, smiling too.

Over your head, he sees Jay grinning and the heat returns to his cheeks. As if suddenly aware of your position — your hands now resting on his shoulders, chests held together by your grip on each other — the smile falls from your face as you take a huge step back, bumping into Jay while Heeseung’s hand slips from your body.

“Let’s get more drinks!” you yell to Jay, slinging an arm over his shoulders to pull him away.

On his own, Heeseung dances to three whole songs, only stopping when Yoo Jimin wraps her arm around him, holding him in the world’s tightest hug. “Lee Heeseung, did I just see you all over a girl?” The interaction takes him by surprise, seeing as he hasn’t actually spoken to her since before summer. “Let’s go for drinks soon, to say congrats on finally moving on!”

This, of course, is when you and Jay finally return. Jimin notices before he does. “Be good to him,” she yells, smiling, and never letting go of Heeseung. “Bad breakup!”

You stand there, holding two drinks so tightly your hands start shaking, causing one to spill over your fingers. A strained smile spreads over your lips as you nod. “Right! I’ll try!”

As quickly as she appears, Jimin vanishes with a smile on her face, pleased with herself. You visibly relax, handing Heeseung his drink and swaying to the music again. Just like at high school parties, you let Jay sling his arm over your shoulders as you dance together. Back then, you’d dance with all of your friends while waiting for Heeseung to return, usually with a cup of water for you to drink, but tonight, with Heeseung standing there, it seems like he’s as good as dead according to you.

It’s around 2 a.m. when you and Jay decide you’ve had enough, with Jay struggling to keep his eyes open. After failing to locate Sunghoon and easily finding Jake with his cap on backwards and makeup all over his mouth and cheeks, the three of you let him know you’re going home.

As seems to be the unspoken rule amongst your friends, Jay walks between the two of you while trying to convince you both that if you had fun tonight, there’s no reason to regret having gone out. Even if it means you’ll be sitting in class holding your eyes open. Heeseung ignores him, conspiring out loud about Sunghoon’s whereabouts—getting lost on his way to the restroom or finding an ice rink out back.

For a while, you entertain him before sighing. “I saw in the chat, he said he’s out talking to a girl he saw wearing a band shirt—Nirvana.”

The notion is so surprising that Heeseung almost stops in his tracks. Jay voices his shock with a raised brow and an incredulous tone. “Hoon listens to Nirvana?”

“No, but she’s pretty. I had to send him a screenshot of their popular songs on Spotify when one of her friends came over looking for a lighter.”

At Jay’s request, you and Heeseung spend the rest of the walk back to your flat trying to name fifteen Nirvana songs. By the time you reach the lift in your building, you’ve successfully listed nine and the three of you stand inside while you look for your keys. On your doorstep, you pull Jay into a tight hug, whispering something in his ear that makes him laugh as he pats you on the back and says, “You probably could.”

Pathetically, Heeseung hopes you’ll hug him too. With no hesitation, you do, arms locking around his neck, leaving him with flushed cheeks and a racing heart. “Thanks for looking out for me,” you whisper, lingering by his ear before burying your face in the base of his neck.

Heeseung holds his breath, counting to twelve before you lean away from him, your arms in place as you look up into his eyes. “I’m always going to look out for you,” he manages to say. He can already hear Jay teasing him about it when they’re alone, but the smile on your face is worth it.

In your doorway, you wave goodbye and they wait outside until they hear your lock clicking before heading home, where Jay doesn’t tease Heeseung at all.

Turns out, getting home at 3 a.m. when he has a class at 10 o’clock doesn’t fit in amongst any of his better ideas, but still, he gets out of bed and gets ready, heeding Jay’s advice and scheduling a hair appointment on his way to class.

As soon as he sits down, he gets a text from Jay: thinking of getting smth pierced later, come with?

Heeseung: what is smth.

Jay: cartilage probs

Heeseung: im getting my roots done at 5

Jay: okayyyyyyy good shit man !!! tmrw?

Heeseung: 👍👍👍

It shouldn’t surprise Heeseung that you look good, but the sight of you walking through the door in your zip-up hoodie and jeans almost knocks the wind out of him. You’re holding your notebook to your chest, stopping in the middle of the stairs and sighing when the white strap of your tote bag slips from your shoulder to the crook of your elbow. You apologise to the people behind you before rushing up the stairs to Heeseung’s row, putting your things down and slumping into the seat beside him. The room suddenly feels warmer when you take off your hoodie and next to you and your bare arms, his heart starts to race.

“Do you have, like, an interview or something?” you ask, doodling in the margin of your notebook, filling the space with pretty butterflies that make his heart race.

Heeseung, who hasn’t looked for a job in two years, panics. “No?”

“Oh.” You nod slowly, looking away from him. “A date? Maybe?” There’s something in your voice that makes him want to say yes and see your reaction, but the look on your face makes his stomach turn.

“No, ne—just no.”

“You can tell me if you’re going on a date.”

“Why would I go on a date?”

You shrug, gesturing to his outfit. Heeseung looks down at himself and the cream-coloured cardigan he’s wearing. “You just look nice, that’s all,” you mumble after a while. Suddenly, Jay’s Prada loafers squeezing his toes doesn’t seem so bad and Heeseung sits through the whole lecture with a smile on his face.

The leaves yellowed on October first, and unfortunately for Heeseung, the last two weeks didn’t play out how he hoped they would. Of course, he knew that you flinging your arms around him and confessing your love was probably a far stretch. But this is torture. You only talk to him when the rest of the boys are around, and even then, you only say things like, what time does class start? and do you have a pen I can borrow?

His nice outfits don’t let up, but his hair is so long these days that you don’t take any notice of the throbbing hole through his cartilage that Jay somehow convinced him to get. Or so Heeseung tells himself because his ears stick out as far as his shoulders.

Today marks the first time he’s sat in the library during the day for more than ten minutes, and it’s surprisingly busy. Most of his library trips take place in the early hours of the morning, playing his way through the Papa’s Gameria franchise on the computer next to Jake, who spends several minutes at a time staring at his fancy engineering software before clicking the mouse and staring again. So seeing the steady flow of students come in and out, setting up camp at their tables with headphones and thick binders, while groups of friends whisper amongst themselves, leaning back in their seats and gasping every now and then feels like a culture shock.

There’s about an hour until your class finishes, and he’s been sitting here for two hours already since his Music and Identity class ended, wondering if he’s making a mistake by waiting for you. Especially because he knows you’re not expecting him to. He’s at a table right by the library’s entrance, so you’ll see him on the way out and it can feel like a chance encounter. Uncharacteristically, he’s used this time quite wisely, deciding to go through the reading he was given on the role music plays in maintaining cultural identity among diaspora communities and making notes in the margins of his handout until your class is done.

Impatience starts to settle in after thirty minutes so he texts you to see to ask if your class is over yet. Immediately, your response lights up his screen: yeah about an hour ago but i stayed home lmao what’s up :)

Staring down at the message, he sighs, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as he tries to come up with something to say. This goes on for a while until he realises what he’s doing and his heart clenches. How did you go from spending every waking moment texting each other to clutching at straws for a valid reason to talk?

At the very least, the smiley face you sent is doing wonders for his declining mood.

Heeseung settles on, “i just left office hours and wanted to know if anyone was still around haha,” before hiding his face with his hands.

oh nooooooo :( sorry dude, you reply. how’d it go?

In the six years he spent by your side, he’s never known you to use the word dude—at least not with him. By the looks of things, it seems like your time away was spent studying Jake’s texting patterns or a secret other thing that makes his head hurt when he thinks about it.

Sighing, Heeseung types back: good! had a couple questions after sem but it went well!

You react to the message with a heart but don’t reply. He doesn’t have enough time to think about what that might mean because Mark approaches the table, clutching the straps of his backpack with a grin on his face that makes Heeseung feel at ease, like a wide-eyed first year riddled with anxious excitement.

“You look good, man. You going somewhere nice later?” Mark asks, dapping him up.

Heeseung shakes his head. “Just home.”

“Nice.” Mark nods, gasping after a beat. “Did you hear? I made captain!”

“That’s major, dude, congrats! I knew you would.” If anyone deserves to be team captain, it’s Mark Lee. He was captain of the basketball team in high school and vetoed his spot to Heeseung when he graduated. Two years later, when Heeseung came to college, Mark had been enthusiastic about him joining the team too.

“I’ve been thinking that my first official act as captain should be getting you back on the team?” Mark’s voice tips up at the end, his brows raising hopefully.

The last time Heeseung was on the home court, he cried with the ball in his hands because he overheard someone in the crowd saying they didn’t think he could make the shot—they were right. He laughs, shaking his head. “Way too much pressure in uni basketball. Thanks for thinking of me, though.”

“I’m not giving up on you,” Mark says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, I hear your birthday’s coming up, can I host?”

“Host what?”

Mark’s hands clap soundlessly as he laughs. “A party, obviously! Twenty’s a big one! I’ll text you the deets, alright?” he asks, though it doesn’t sound like Heeseung has a choice because Mark’s already walking away, still laughing to himself.

In Heeseung’s eyes, there’s nothing better than knocking back (more than) a few bottles of soju with friends and singing your heart out in the four walls of a karaoke room. Worried about killing the mood, he enjoys from a distance, staying glued to the booth, ad-libbing for the boys and polishing off their drinks as discreetly as he can. The table is adorned with a collection of empty bottles and buckets of feasted-upon fried chicken that still envelop the room in a mouth-watering aroma, while a green strobe light pierces the air as Jake and Sunghoon wrap up their cover of Party Rock Anthem.

By the time Jay manages to convince Heeseung to sing something, he’s four bottles in and searching for the most heart-wrenching ballad he can find. Sofa by Crush has always been his favourite karaoke song. Even when it first came out and he was in a happy relationship; even at home, alone in the kitchen, using a broom handle as a makeshift microphone, singing until his voice went hoarse and tears stained his shirt.

It feels like fate when the song’s title flashes across the screen in big bold letters and he knows there’s no real way to ignore destiny, so he chooses it and stands up from his seat. Weighed down by alcohol and an aching heart, he stumbles to the front of the room to stand with his back to his friends. Clutching the mic until his knuckles turn white, he takes a deep breath, letting the intro wash over him before singing. He gets through the first half of the song before practically caving in on himself, too moved by the lyrics to stay on two feet. To Heeseung’s credit, he’s always had a beautiful voice, so he’s not exactly tanking in that respect, but if he was even a tiny bit more cognisant, he’d scrape himself up from his knees and finish the rest of the song in the same light-hearted way everyone else had.

The lights shift through red and blue, casting a pretty glow over the dim space and streaking purples and pinks all over the walls—aesthetically, the room is as moody as Heeseung feels. If he had eyes on the back of his head (or picked himself and his dignity from the floor) he might notice the way everyone else in the room is struck by his sadness, with all three boys sitting in solemn silence as a drunk Jay records the whole thing.

Tired of watching his friend fall apart, Sunghoon gets up from his seat, muttering dick at Jay for filming before taking the phone from his hands and cutting off the recording. He lifts Heeseung at the armpits like a baby and takes the mic. Clearing his throat, Sunghoon half-heartedly finishes the rest of the song while Heeseung cries into his shoulder. Their duet scores them 63 points and Jay spends the next few minutes texting. Heeseung appreciates Sunghoon’s efforts, crying more as his emotions oscillate from love for his friend to yearning for you, all while Jake attempts to lift the mood with a genuinely moving performance of Highway to Hell. From the way he’s air-drumming and bouncing his leg to the song, anyone could tell that Sunghoon is desperate to join in, but holding back for Heeseung’s sake. With a hiccup, Heeseung wipes his tears with his sleeve and throws himself out to the front, accompanying Jake with an air guitar. It’s only during the start of the second verse that Jay and Sunghoon join in, and a full-fledged rock band moment falls upon them as if gifted from heaven.

After another hour of singing and drinking, Heeseung and Jay race up their apartment building’s stairs. Panting heavily, with his heart beating in his throat, Heeseung’s knees ache when he reaches the top — though caught up in catching his breath and the sight of you sleeping against the doorframe — he can’t even celebrate his win.

“Huh,” Jay says when he joins him. “How’d she get here?”

Heeseung can only shrug in response.

Suddenly self-conscious in your presence, he stands up straighter, pushing some of his hair off his forehead. Jay moves from behind him, approaching you, but Heeseung’s too hung up on the way you hold your jacket tight around your body to do the same. He wants to though—wants to help you out, pick you up and hold you in his arms, kiss your forehead and lovingly scold you for staying out in the cold. But he’s not drunk enough to convince himself you’ll take that well.

Instead, he remains glued to the spot, watching Jay wake you up, only mobilising when you’re on your feet, stretching your arms above your head. To you, the sliver of skin peeking out where your shirt ends and your jeans begin is a fleeting detail, lost entirely under a veil of just-risen drowsiness. Yet, to Heeseung, it’s everything. It’s enough to make him want to beg you for a second chance right then and there. But he’s not drunk enough to convince himself you’ll take that well either.

You’re talking with Jay and there’s a crease in your brow when Heeseung reaches you. Your voices were too quiet to make sense of with the distance but now he hears you loud and clear. “You told me almost two hours ago that you guys were leaving soon,” you sigh, rubbing your neck.

Jay snorts, missing the keyhole a few times before catching it. “Should’ve just joined in, stupid.”

“It was boy’s night and you made it very clear that I don’t count. And when I asked what bar you guys were at, you just said doesn’t matter, leaving in ten, and, by the way, none of it was spelt correctly. It felt like you were using code.”

“Caesar Cipher, perhaps?”

“Pig Latin, more like,” you scoff, leaning against the wall.

A mischievous grin spreads over Jay’s lips and Heeseung already hates whatever he’s about to say. “Ixnay on the Eeseunghay.” Yeah, Heeseung hates it. He glances between the two of you, picking up on the smile you can’t hide as you roll your eyes.

Your gaze finds Heeseung’s and your lips curl into a frown as you look back at Jay. “Otgay ityay.” You nod firmly.

From context — and memories of numerous private conversations the two of you used to have in his presence — he figures it’s Pig Latin, a linguistic puzzle more intricate than any the English language has ever thrown at him.

After a beat, you nod towards the open door. “Get inside.”

You follow the boys in and lock the door when Jay hands you his keys. He quickly heads to his room, leaving Heeseung shifting his weight from one foot to the other in the living room, staring at you. Save for Jay’s bedroom, all of the lights are off. The only light shines through the open blinds, a vivid orange beam coming from a streetlight outside, casting a harsh shadow over the room. The terminator line is stark—a clear partition between Heeseung, who’s standing in the shade, and you, who stands in front of the window, backlit by the warm light. You’re glowing. Or, at least, the lighting makes it look like you are—outlining all your edges in soft orange.

Absently, he plays with the zipper on his jacket—unsure of what’s going on or why you’re here at all. It takes a while, but the words finally escape him. “What are you doing here?” Simultaneously, you ask if he’s okay.

Even in the dark, your smile warms the room. For you and Heeseung, speaking in unison like that isn’t anything new, so it’s not enough to rouse a reaction from him—nonetheless, he smiles too. Whether by way of drunk optimism or his own sudden acceptance, Heeseung’s starting to feel as though maybe just being by your side, making you smile, might be enough for him.

“Jay texted me, and I wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.”

“What did he say?”

“That you were having a hard time.”

Heeseung nods slowly.

“Actually, he said—” You pause to check your phone. “—Jay said, worried but hyung he is m let down. I think he meant meltdown?”

“Hyung,” Heeseung repeats, tilting his head as if the word is foreign to him. A crease runs along his brow, Jay is way drunker than he let on.

“Huh,” you utter, tilting your head too. “I actually thought m let down would’ve gotten a bigger reaction out of you.”

A moment passes, and then another before Heeseung says, “You can sit if you want. I don’t know if you’re going to stay long or anything, but you can always sit here.”

You smile and he can hear it, watching you take your coat off before sitting on the couch. It’s a bit of a stretch from where you’re sitting but you reach over to turn on the lamp in the corner and Heeseung sits too, as far away as he can. You look comfortable, like you’re supposed to be there and the thought warms his heart.

“You didn’t have to come here. I’m happy you did but you didn’t have to,” he says after too long.

A frown tugs your lips down. “Of course, I did. I care about you, Heeseung, you know that.”

Now doesn’t seem like the time to argue, so he makes a mental note to mull over this later. “I know,” he lies, his voice nothing more than a mumble as he nods.

“Did you guys have fun?”

Deciding it best to pretend his Crush cover went well, he nods again, smiling as he thinks about the nice parts of boys’ night. With your encouragement, he talks happily for a while about their song choices and the way they all came together in the end. “I feel like we’d get on pretty well as an AC/DC tribute act.”

“Do you know what room you were in? There’s got to be a way for me to pull the security footage and see for myself.”

“I actually think Jimin works there, she might be able to hook you up.”

“Jimin?” you repeat in a different tone. The shift is so subtle that Heeseung barely picks up on it, never mind placing it or knowing what it might mean. If he were any more delusional, he might think you’re jealous, but the curiosity in your voice tells him to get out of his head.

“Yeah, this one girl in the year above,” he explains. “She transferred to humanities so we had a couple classes together last term.”

“Oh, cool.”

He really can’t work out your tone and it’s disconcerting. Maybe he should talk about Jimin some more. “She’s like mega smart, and really nice too. She was actually at the club that night! The girl I was talking to when you and Jay went to get drinks,” he says, suddenly remembering.

“Good for Jimin.”

“I think you’d like her.” He smiles. “You know, if you’re looking for friends or anything.”

You only nod, pressing your lips together and leaving Heeseung at a complete loss for words. He watches you chewing on the inside of your cheek, playing with the thread bracelet on your wrist. “I’ve always loved your voice,” you mumble, looking down.

“I know.. You used to beg me to stay up on the phone singing for you.” Heeseung presses his lips together after speaking, mentally locking them and throwing away the key.

You nod with a smile on your face that makes his stomach flutter. “You’re, like, the best guy ever.”

That makes sense. That Heeseung could be like, the best guy ever but not quite good enough to stay with. He mulls over your words and contemplates setting himself on fire. Standing up from the couch, he goes over to his room. From the doorway, he says, “You can share Jay’s bed, it’s too late to go home by yourself.”

Heeseung closes his door with plans to stay inside the whole night, but only manages an hour before he gets sick of the stale taste in his mouth. He leaves quietly, and in the light from outside, he sees you sleeping on the sofa with your hands tucked under your head. His heart sinks. Without much thought, he carries you to his room, tucks you in and runs away before doing something stupid like kissing your head to go and brush his teeth. Unlike you, he’s not afraid to wake Jay up, pushing the boy over to make room for himself on his bed, where he lays awake for hours trying to figure out what went wrong with you two until his head starts to hurt.

In the morning, Heeseung doesn’t see you before you leave, but he spends the better part of an hour with his ear pressed against Jay’s door, eavesdropping on your conversation. If you weren’t talking about him he might feel guilty about this, but you are, so..

“I just feel bad, you know? I don’t know how to fit into his life and I feel like I’m only making things harder for him by being here,” you say. “Harder for everyone.”

Heeseung grips the doorframe until his knuckles turn white. He’s spent too much time thinking about how to be your friend without actually trying to be, too caught up in his own feelings to see how he’s affecting everyone else. The corners of his lips droop at the thought.

“We’re happy to have you back, Heeseung too. He’s just.. hurting, you know? I’m not sure if you heard but he kind of got blindsided and dumped by his high school girlfriend,” Jay says.

You laugh drily and he pictures the way you roll your eyes. “Hey, uh, random Q, what do you know about Jimin?”

Jay’s quiet for a bit. Or he’s whispering. Heeseung presses his entire body to the door as if it’ll help. “Yoo Jimin?” he asks.

“Probably. Heeseung’s friend.”

“She’s cool,” he answers simply. “You’d like her.”

“So I keep hearing. What’s going on with them?”

“Nothing really. They met at some party last year, both pretty drunk, and somehow ended up in a random bedroom where she tried hooking up with him.” Jay’s words strike Heeseung like a jolt, his heart pounds and his stomach twists. It takes a lot for him and the knot in his stomach not to burst out of the room and clear things up. The main thing stopping him though, is that Jay’s telling the truth. “But he misread the whole thing and ended up detailing your entire relationship for two hours,” Jay adds after a while.

“And now?”

“Why do you care?” Jay’s tone is teasing but the question makes Heeseung spiral.

His mouth starts to dry up at the thought of you admitting that you don’t care, that you’re over him and just being nosy. Panic swells in his chest and he jumps away from the door as if it’s red hot, scrambling back under the covers of Jay’s bed and falling back asleep.

In the following two weeks, Heeseung finds himself mastering the art of avoidance. He fills his evenings with pick-up basketball games with Mark on random courts in the neighbourhood and rushes out of class before you have the chance to talk to him. Playing with Mark is fun, but he can’t ignore the regret festering within him, a persistent thorn in his side. Fortunately for him, Jay, whether knowingly or not, presents him with a potential turning point. He’s invited you and the boys over for pres before his party, instructing Heeseung to get his shit together and acknowledge your existence.

On the night before his birthday, the apartment echoes with your voice, yelling at Jake to get off the floor. Sunghoon’s cackles only get louder, filling the space. Behind his closed bedroom door, Heeseung catches a panicked glance of himself in the mirror, running a hand through his hair and adjusting his bangs. He lingers in his room as long as he can, trying to put off seeing you.

Jay opens the door without knocking, a lazy grin on his face and a slight sway in his stance that tells Heeseung he’s drunk already. “What are you doing? We’re waiting.”

“I don’t know,” he admits.

Rolling his eyes, Jay lets out a tired groan. It’s an unspoken scolding that Heeseung heeds immediately, following him into the kitchen, where Jake is messily pouring shots on the counter. He doesn’t see you anywhere, but Sunghoon distracts him, cheering and wrapping his arms around him—also drunk already. “She’s in Jay’s room, Yunjin called,” he says. “Oh, yeah, happy almost birthday, man. Twenty is crazy.”

By the looks of things, Sunghoon’s on a mission to kill Heeseung. Twenty shots for his twentieth birthday doesn’t sound like as much fun as Sunghoon thinks it does, it sounds like a punishment or a death sentence. Heeseung — put off by the smell of vodka — manages four shots before tapping out, deciding that he’d quite like to remember tonight and wake up on his birthday without a headache.

Heeseung’s eyes widen when you show up in the doorway, a confusing sense of surprise washing over him. It’s not like he didn’t know you were here; he heard you earlier. It’s just that your sudden presence catches him off guard. His heart skips a beat and a sudden rush of nerves courses through him. He takes in your appearance, his eyes tracing every inch of you before meeting your eyes. As you run your hand through your hair, you smile at him, so pretty and genuine that he can’t help grinning back.

Your dress is beautiful, of course—black satin, he thinks, with pretty pink ribbons tied into perfect bows on the top, and you’re the only girl Heeseung’s ever wanted in his life.

A whispered whoa falls from his lips, which seem to rest in an ‘o’ as he stares at you. You’re looking away from him now, focused on the tequila puddle Jake’s left on the counter, grabbing some paper towels to mop it up. Jay snorts beside him, nudging his ribs hard. “You’ll catch flies, Heeseung. Come on—decorum, please.”

Heeseung clears his throat, running a hand through his hair and wiping his palms on his pants, but he doesn’t make any moves towards you.

“Do something,” Jay mumbles.

He nods in response, repeating do something, over and over in his head until he finally approaches you. “Hey,” he says, breathless. His heart hammers in his chest when you look up at him, beaming.

“Heeseung,” you say. “Happy almost birthday. How’re you feeling?”

Before he has a chance to respond, you wrap your arms around his waist, and like it’s the most natural thing in the world, his arms fall around your shoulders, holding you close. It’s perfect. Some combination of your warm scent and alcohol causes the butterflies in his stomach to rage, fluttering so frantically he thinks he might be sick.

“Insane,” he admits.

He can hear you laughing, feeling your chuckles against his chest. “You know, what?” You lean away from him, arms still around his waist, eyes locked on his and a soft smile on your lips. “Me too.”

An odd weakness settles in his knees, a dizzying flutter alighting his entire body as he nods. Over his shoulder, Sunghoon calls for him, chanting, “More shots! More shots!” For a while, Heeseung ignores him, watching you until he feels his ears heating up at the top.

“I think I have to go,” he mumbles, eyes locked on your lips. They curl up into a crooked grin, and you use a hand to pat his chest.

“Good luck.”

Heeseung takes a deep breath when you let go of him, taking shaky steps towards his friend, who’s grinning widely enough to show his fangs. “Sorry to interrupt, I think you could use the help though,” Sunghoon says, holding out a shot glass to him.

He shakes his head at the shot, taking it from Sunghoon’s hand and placing it down on the table. “I need a minute.”

Sunghoon only shrugs, taking the drink himself, knocking it back with no visible reaction, and Heeseung thinks he must be a monster. “I really think you could fix things tonight,” he says afterwards, pouring another.

Instead of taking this in stride, Heeseung decides to pretend you don’t exist after hugging you—it’ll be easier that way. To him, this looks like staring at you in your pretty dress and snapping his neck in the opposite direction when you look over at him.

To appease Sunghoon, he takes another three shots and has to sit down, overwhelmed by the way his cheeks burn and how the kitchen starts to tilt around him. His mouth is oddly dry; a sensation that has nothing to do with you or the way you look in your dress. This time when you catch him staring, he smiles.

Even in his beyond-tipsy state, Jay manages to ensure everyone leaves the flat before requesting an Uber. Heeseung finds himself sitting cross-legged on the pavement, for some reason, scrolling through his camera roll.

“Car’s here, get up,” Jay eventually mumbles, nudging his back with the tip of his shoe.

With some stumbling, Heeseung stands up, dusts off his pants and heads to the car. Jay holds the door open for you, and as you slide across the backseat, your dress rides up. Heeseung screws his eyes shut, shaking his head to clear his thoughts, like resetting an etch-a-sketch. Jay’s hand claps his back as he instructs him to get in, which he does. Hesitantly, he slides into the middle seat, glancing to his right to see who’ll be joining you.

“You’ll thank me later!” Jay calls out, closing the door.

Before he even has a chance to shift over, your hand lands firmly on his knee, silently urging him to stay put. With a pounding heart, he complies. The back of his hand brushes against your thigh as he fastens his seatbelt, and the feeling of your soft skin against his leaves him breathless. He feels afloat when the car starts moving. A few minutes pass before you take your hand from his knee, mumbling an apology as you place it on your lap, idly playing with your fingers.

Mark lives about twenty minutes away, leaving Heeseung with something close to sixteen minutes to think of something to say. R&B from the early 2000s rumbles through the speakers in the car, vaguely explicit lyrics alluding to something he’s craving fill the space around the two of you, wrapped up in your warm vanilla scent and the fresh peppermint gum you’re chewing. To put it simply, there’s not a coherent thought in his head he could express that wouldn’t get him into trouble.

“I didn’t know you were on the basketball team,” you say after a while. “Well, I did know, but you know.”

“I don’t know,” he admits quietly because he has no idea what you’re talking about.

A beat passes before you speak again. “How was your day?”

The first thing on his mind is what falls from his lips. “You look beautiful,” Heeseung blurts out, trying to ignore the tinge of anxiety that’s irritating his stomach. “Your dress is.. It’s really pretty,” he adds, feeling as though he won’t lose anything by putting everything on the table.

“Thanks.” You smile. “You look beautiful too.”

Heeseung’s breath hitches in his throat and he looks down at his outfit in the dark. If Jay hadn’t interfered, he’d be wearing a hoodie and sweatpants right now, but he’s happy with the simple striped shirt and loose pants Jay suggested, even if it leaves him a little chilly. “It’s, uh, it’s actually my birthday party tonight,” he supplies uselessly.

You laugh, and it’s the best sound he’s ever heard. “I kind of just meant in general.”

“Me too.”

The car falls silent as he lets his head fall into the space between the headrests and closes his eyes. When you reach Mark’s house, he opens them and finds you staring with a smile. “I thought you fell asleep,” you say.

He shakes his head, sliding over the backseat and opening the door. He didn’t expect you to leave from the same side as him, but he likes the heat on his cheeks as he closes the door for you. Wordlessly, the two of you go through the gate and join Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon who are sitting cross-legged on the porch, giggling around a shared joint. He has no idea how they arrived before you did.

Heeseung isn’t sure how he loses you guys but it’s not until his third round of beer pong that he actually notices. Lee Jeno and his red eyes are a poor shot, barely managing to throw the ball without hitting Heeseung’s chest or dropping it before he gets to aim. He almost feels bad for the guy when he sinks another one of his cups, watching Jeno frown before pinching his nostrils shut and taking a big gulp.

Jay’s sudden presence startles him, though he’s quick to grin at his best friend. The smile isn’t returned. Instead, he leans up to Heeseung’s ear, yelling that YN’s crying before nudging his way out of the room. His heart sinks and he offers no explanation to Jeno, following Jay upstairs and into the bathroom where he finds you, sitting on the floor, crying into Sunghoon’s shirt while Jake watches with a frown, picking at his nails.

“What happened?”

Jake talks with a hushed tone while Sunghoon helps you up before leaving. “She didn’t say anything, she just asked us to go to the bathroom with her and started crying.” He opens his mouth to continue but Jay yanks him out of the room, closing the door.

“I’m not, like, upset or anything,” you say after a while, wiping your eyes with the back of your hands. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m sorry. I really didn’t want to ruin tonight for you so I told Jake not to say anything, but obviously, he didn’t listen.”

“Jake did the right thing telling Jay, none of us want to see you upset.”

“I’m not upset.” You hit Heeseung’s chest with a weak fist, crying more. “Why does everyone think I’m upset?”

“It might be the tears,” he offers, feeling good about making you smile.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Are you using a new liner? Mascara? You still look good.”

You take a look in the mirror, resting your hands on the edge of the sink. “Yeah, I discovered waterproof makeup in first year.”

“Is it harder to take off?”

“Definitely, but it’s worth it, I think, for nights like this.”

“Yeah, right.” Heeseung nods, watching you carefully as he sits on the edge of the bathtub. It’s like being in high school, seeing you like this. Most of the parties you went to were spent in the bathroom, with Heeseung holding your hair back and trying to calm you down after throwing up. He misses all of it except the vomit. “Are you okay?”

Catching his gaze in the mirror, you nod but look down at your hands when he says your name. “It’s just a little harder being back than I thought it would be.”

“Oh.”

You sigh, playing with your hair as you sit down next to him. “Obviously it’s great seeing the guys all the time, seeing you all the time, but everything’s fucked and we act like strangers and it’s killing me not being able to just..” you trail off. Heeseung is clearly drunker than he feels because it looks like your eyes are stuck on his lips. After a beat you slide away from him, moving until your back hits the wall. A mixture of frustration and something else colours your face. “I just don’t like treating you like a stranger and I don’t know how to fix it.” Before he has a chance to think or to say anything you ask him for the time.

“It’s 12:23.”

“Happy birthday!” you say, smiling. “Am I the first to say it?”

“You’re always first.” Even last year, you sent a text at midnight, so Heeseung’s not sure why there’s a surprised look in your eyes or why it’s making him want to kiss you more than usual. “You don’t have to treat me like a stranger if you don’t want to,” he says carefully, trying to get you both back on track.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to act around you.”

His voice is soft when he says, “Honestly, neither do I.”

“I wish I never left.”

“Everything happens for a reason, I guess.” Despite the small smile on his face, he’s still trying to understand what reason you had.

An exhaled laugh comes from your nose and you nudge him. “Were you secretly trying to get rid of me?”

“You caught me,” he sighs, holding out his hands in defeat. “I had this whole elaborate plan. I was going to fake my death, but you saved me the trouble. Thanks for that.”

Both of you share a genuine laugh and the tension in the air eases up a bit. Heeseung’s eyes meet yours; a brief moment of silence follows. You clear your throat. “I’m sorry for leaving. I really wish things could’ve been different.”

It can’t be your intention to hurt him by saying that, but you do, leaving Heeseung feeling the full spectrum of his emotions. A pang of hurt, of longing—hurting himself even more as he thinks about the could-have-beens. He purses his lips, looking down at his shoes. “Me too.” Sick of the tension, of his feelings, he glances at you, sitting up a little straighter. “How about we start fresh? Clean slate?”

“Clean slate?” you echo, raising an inquisitive brow.

Heeseung nods, determined, extending his hand for you to shake. “I’m Heeseung.”

“YN,” you chuckle, taking his hand in yours.

He holds onto it, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “Funny, you look just like my ex.”

Your eyes widen, amused. “Wow, Hee, you always know just what to say.”

The two of you sit quietly for a moment, but Heeseung’s just glad you’re not crying anymore. He feels lighter now, hopefully you do too. Standing up, he holds out a hand to help you get to your feet which you take, smiling up at him as you straighten out your dress.

“You know,” he says, clapping his hands together. “For a second there, I thought I’d need a manual on how to talk to you again, but I think we’re doing pretty well.”

Heeseung feels pleased with himself when you laugh, rolling your eyes and nudging his chest with your hand. “Shut up,” you say, light and playful.

“Are you ready to get back to the guys?”

You smile at him, nodding before quickly turning back to the mirror. “Do I look okay?”

It doesn’t make sense to Heeseung that a girl as beautiful as you could ever look just okay. Even with the slight swell to your glassy eyes, you’re the most perfect person he’s ever seen. But he can’t say that. So instead, he pulls a sharp breath through his teeth, tilting his head a bit and raising his hand in a horizontal gesture, his fingers wobbling as if balancing an imaginary scale. A non-committal sound escapes him, a soft eh before he laughs at the way your jaw drops.

You punch his arm. “Heeseung!”

“Come on, you know you look great,” he mumbles, looking away to hide the flush in his cheeks. The sound of your lips spreading into a smile makes his stomach flutter as he opens the door to find Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon sitting cross-legged in the hall in front of it.

“Birthday boy!” Jay yells, springing to his feet and flinging his arms around Heeseung.

“And YN!” Jake adds from his seat.

Heeseung hears you saying thanks to Jake before sitting next to him.

“So, did you two kiss and make up or what?” Jay’s attempt at whispering is futile and somehow Heeseung’s cheeks burn even more as he frees himself from his friend’s hold.

“Kiss, no. Make up, yes.”

“Playing the long game, I like it.” Jay grins, patting Heeseung on the back. “Sit down, let’s talk.”

Heeseung sits in the space next to Sunghoon, holding his legs awkwardly to his chest. He’s not entirely sure what’s happening and he feels like he’s not drunk enough anymore to fully relax into it, until you leave Jake’s side, crawling over to Heeseung and resting your head on his shoulder. In the dim hall, the boys shuffle around but it’s too dark to see what they’re doing—not that he cares much at this point, letting his head rest on top of yours and closing his eyes. It almost sounds quite pretty when they start singing Happy Birthday, and Jake has a tiny lunchbox cake in his hands when Heeseung opens his eyes. Its purple-frosted TWENT-HEE is disrupted by a half-smoked joint stuck in the centre which the flash on Sunghoon’s phone provides a makeshift flame for.

“Make a wish!” you squeal, clapping your hands.

It takes three attempts for Heeseung and Sunghoon to coordinate the timing between his exhale and Sunghoon turning the flash off, but the candle is blown out, and, right now. Heeseung has everything he’s ever wanted.

Almost.

Heeseung wakes up pressed against the wall with an arm wrapped around his waist. An embarrassing surge of excitement courses through him as he thinks about your conversation and puts his hand over yours. What he’s met with is less of the softness he’d anticipated, and more of the coarse skin and defined knuckles he’s come to recognise as Jake’s hand under the duvet. It only takes a look over his shoulder to make sense of why Heeseung’s nose is grazing his bedroom wall. Behind him is Jake, who’s being spooned by you, and behind you is Sunghoon who’s clinging onto your frame for dear life, even in his slumber. Evidently, Jay’s had a successful night and with his unwavering loyalty to Yunjin, it’s not hard to figure out what happened in the room across the hall.

With his eyes pressed shut, desperate to clutch some more sleep, he hears you mumbling. “Park Sunghoon, if you don’t wake up and let go of me, I’ll kill you,” you say with a tone that frightens Heeseung and sets off a flutter in his stomach. The yelp and thud that follow seem to wake Jake up and he crawls over you to get out of bed, stretching his arms out above his head and making no effort to step over Sunghoon on the floor. You roll over in the bed, wrapping an arm around Heeseung’s waist and pressing yourself into his side. “Happy birthday,” you say through a yawn before getting up.

He manages to mumble a thanks, butterflies running wild in his stomach and a flush creeping up his neck as he watches you leave the room, eyes stuck on the way your hips move in last night’s dress. He gets out of bed, sighing, untucking his shirt to cover the tightness in his pants before joining his friends in the kitchen.

Hungry but unmoving, you and the boys occupy the three seats at the small kitchen table, harping on about the different things as Jake whines, begging you to keep it down.

Heeseung’s first intense emotion as a sober twenty-year-old is betrayal. There are used dishes lying in the sink, plates, mugs, and pans — two of each — staring up at him, wafting the scent of a cooked breakfast, with no leftovers in sight, up to his nostrils. He sighs, wondering if it’s his responsibility as host, and eldest friend, to make more food for everyone, or if, as the birthday boy, he should sit around and wait for someone else to take action. Settling on the latter, he sights up on the countertop, sure to keep his back to you so he doesn’t have to see the low neckline of your dress.

Finally, Jay comes back, whistling an unfamiliar tune and twirling his keys on his finger when he reaches the kitchen. “Hello,” he says simply, leaning against the doorjamb as if he hadn’t single-handedly ruined Heeseung’s birthday.

Sunghoon rubs his eyes, looking in Jay’s direction. “So now, if I want a nice breakfast after a night out, do I have to fuck you?”

Jay’s cheeks flush as he looks at his feet. “I mean, I planned to cook for you guys when I got back.”

“I don’t want your sloppy seconds,” he scoffs, slumping in his chair.

“I do, Jay. Cook for me,” you say, gesturing toward Jay’s general direction making grabby hands at him.

With a gentle smile, he crosses the room and pats your head. “What are you in the mood for?”

“Anything,” you mumble into his shirt.

Jay nods, going over to the fridge. He stands in front of it with his hands on his hips, completely still for almost two minutes and Heeseung only approaches him because he’s worried about the outside heat getting on all the food through the open door.

“What are you doing?” he asks, uttering his first sentence of the morning.

Jay clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck as he leans towards Heeseung. “I, uh, finished the eggs, milk, and bacon.” A nervous look covers his face before he continues. “And we ate your Hello Kitty pancake mix,” he adds, mumbling like he doesn’t want to be heard.

Unfortunately, he is, and Heeseung’s mortified. “My Hello Kitty pancake mix?!” He takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “YN got that for me, we were supposed to make those together.” His voice is as whiny as his volume will allow, and he struggles not to stomp his feet.

“Oh, you were? How’d that work out?” Jay’s words are cutting.

“Okay, ouch.”

“Dude, it was expiring next week. Plus, Yunjin just looked so cute when she saw it—I had to.”

“What if I wanted to make them this week?”

“You’ve had the box for two years,” Jay reminds him. “Think of Yunjin.”

With a sigh, Heeseung actually does think of Yunjin. Although the girl he envisions is different from the one Jay wants him to imagine.

They met on the first day of university. She had a guitar strapped to her back, and a huge amp in hand when she approached him. Her eyes were wide with nervousness or excitement; Heeseung couldn’t tell which. Immediately, she extended her free hand for him to shake. “Yunjin,” she said.

“No.” He shook his head while pointing at himself. “Heeseung.” From the way she laughed at his stupid joke, he knew she was the next girl Jay would fall for.

Jay had a habit of falling in love with the first girl to do something nice for him on any given day. And then the next girl. But after hearing Yunjin talk about her gap year, spent learning guitar seriously, Heeseung had a feeling things were going to change for his friend. He was right.

The memory, along with the satisfaction of having figured those two out from the beginning, brings a warm smile to Heeseung’s face. “You owe me.”

“Yeah, whatever. I owe you,” Jay scoffs, though the slight furrow in his brow suggests genuine remorse. “Just so you know, they weren’t special or anything.. just pancakes, you know?”

Heeseung chuckles despite himself. “Are you trying to make me feel better?”

“Maybe a little,” Jay shrugs. To his credit, it works.

At least until Heeseung’s stomach grumbles, a noisy reminder of why they’re standing there in the first place. He also learns the hard way that the fridge starts to beep when you leave it open too long. Jay laughs through his nose, closing the door with his elbow.

“What are we eating?”

Jay seems to think about this for a minute, tilting his head and suggesting McDonald’s.

If asked, Heeseung probably wouldn’t have said he pictured spending the morning of his twentieth birthday squished between Jake and Sunghoon in a sticky booth, but he’s here and can’t find anything to complain about as he inhales his breakfast. Too caught up in the way his hoodie drapes over you, he listens half-heartedly as you all quiz Jay on his night. It seems like he’s being pretty tight-lipped about the whole thing but the dreamy grin on his face is hard to miss.

Eventually, you all pile back into Jay’s car, with Heeseung sitting shotgun as a birthday gift, that he doesn’t get to fully enjoy because he falls asleep as soon as the car starts moving. He sinks into the front seat, a contented smile playing on his lips as the warmth of the sun and his full stomach lull him into a peaceful nap.

At home, he thanks Jay before crawling into bed where he replies to messages before letting his head fall into the pillow.

His eyes don’t even close all the way before you come into the room. “Can I nap in here?”

Heeseung nods, watching you get comfortable under his duvet. In a matter of seconds, you’re just an arm’s reach away, softly snoring with your back to him. Meanwhile, he spends four hours laying completely still, trying to convince himself that the heat radiating from your sleeping form doesn’t make him miss you more.

At around 3 p.m. when everyone wakes up, you and the boys hurry away for various mumbled reasons, leaving Heeseung home alone, trying to practise his surprised face for whenever you’re all back with cake and a gift.

You don’t return until Heeseung’s hair has started to dry after his shower, but you waste no time shuffling around the kitchen before coming back with a pretty cake and real candles with a real flame, singing for him again. With the way Jake’s rushing him, Heeseung can’t come up with a wish in time, so blows out the candles with a clear mind.

“Woo!” Jake cheers, clapping around a wrapped present that he immediately thrusts into Heeseung’s hands. “Open it!”

He barely gets to peel the first piece of tape before he jumps off the couch and kneels down next to him. “It’s LEGO! The Infinity Gauntlet, you know? And the best part is..” Jake pauses dramatically. “You get to put it together with your best friend, Jake! Right now!” His excitement is endearing even though he’s ruined the surprise. “The others can help too, I guess.”

You frown at him. “I paid for the kind lady at the LEGO store to gift wrap that for us.”

“Yeah, and she did great!” Jake grins. “Can I help you open it? Please, Heeseung, please. You’re taking forever.”

With a smile, Heeseung hands the box to Jake, letting him open it carefully before Sunghoon joins in, tearing the paper to shreds all while Jay records the whole moment like a proud father. All five of you are sitting on the floor now, covered in wrapping paper while Jake holds the LEGO set up like it’s his, blinking hard at the camera with a smile on his face, and it’s Heeseung’s favourite birthday yet.

my girl: who wants to take me on a date?

Heeseung knows he should probably change your contact name but the notification still makes his cheeks burn in a way he thinks he likes.

jake: heeseung probably

jake: idk tho

my girl: ok heeseung come to the museum with me for class

sunghoon: next time open with the museum thing holy shit.. i almost fucking volunteered

heeseung: when?

my girl: i would have rejected you hoon

my girl: whenever ur free !

Heeseung’s schedule always has a way of clearing up when it comes to you, and he skips pick-up with Mark to pick you up at your door that evening. You answer right when Heeseung knocks, sliding some rings onto your fingers with a smile on your face, saying, “Hello.”

“You..” Heeseung swallows, nodding his head. He’s doing his best not to check you out but he really can’t help it when your jeans seem to fit like they were made for you. “Hi,” he whispers.

“Hey.”

He clears his throat, finally managing to unstick his gaze from your thighs and gestures in the direction of the stairs. “Shall we?”

At the train station, you don’t object when Heeseung pays for your ticket, he didn’t mean to, his finger just clicked through for two tickets instead of one. He’s happy when you don’t make a big deal about it, only smiling and thanking him when he hands you the ticket. He stands close behind you, protective, letting the peak-time commuters nudge past him instead of you as you wait in line for the only working ticket barrier. You go through first and Heeseung quietly follows, trying to keep his eyes off your ass and praying that the rest of the day goes by more comfortably than it’s started.

The train is packed too, so you stand by the doors and, again, Heeseung stands maybe a little closer than necessary, his arm above his head gripping the yellow handrail. “Why did you want to go to the museum anyway?” he asks, gulping when you look up at him.

“I’ve always liked museums.” You shrug, playing with the buttons on your cardigan.

“I know, it’s just.. You said earlier you wanted to go for one of your classes.”

“Right. It’s a requirement for one of them. Visualising Culture,” you explain, looking him in the eyes. Suddenly nervous, he doesn’t trust his voice to speak so he nods, keeping his gaze fixed on yours. “Museum and Exhibition Studies.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah.” You nod and turn your head from him, looking through the window.

Your eyes are stuck on the trees outside, blurring into each other, and his eyes are stuck on the side of your face, staring shamelessly for the rest of the journey. A tinny voice announces the name of the station you’re approaching, and you nudge Heeseung gently, a silent signal that it’s time to leave. Silence seems to follow you out of the station and into the museum, but he tells himself he doesn’t mind.

For the last hour, you’ve been looking at artwork without taking note of anything or making comments, all while Heeseung observes you, wondering what you’re supposed to be doing for class. “What’s the point of this trip?” he finally asks.

Without backing away from the painting, you turn your head to look at him, raising a brow. “What do you mean?”

“Like, what’s your task?”

You chew on your lip for a bit before looking back at the painting. He can’t help but wonder if in all your time away you’ve been flexing some sort of elitist muscle, or if it’s come about as a result of your fancy exhibition studies class that you had to take a test to be accepted into. Finally, you lean away from the painting and use your phone to take a picture of the blurb before looking at him again.

“I wanted an excuse to get someone to come to the museum with me and I wanted it to be you.”

Your words are so cute and so honest that his heart warms in his chest, even as he ignores his sadness about the fact you felt like you needed an excuse to hang out. “You could have just asked me.”

Considering his words, you frown, tilting your head at him. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It is easy, or it should be, it’s us,” he says unthinkingly. Clearing his throat, he scratches the back of his neck. “I mean, that’s, like, the whole point of having friends, right? To hang out with them?”

“Well.. yes. I just.. I don’t know.”

Somehow, this makes perfect sense to Heeseung who only nods his head, moving on from the frame when you do. It’s nice watching you admire the art, to watch the soft smile that develops as your eyes scan the canvas.

You like looking at the paintings when no one else is, to get up close and try spotting the brush strokes. You like imagining the artist and how they might have felt as they painted, and when the paint is thick, protruding from the canvas, when you can see streaks of yellow peeking through a sludgy green. You have a lot to say about the paintings and how they make you feel, and how they don’t make you feel, finding something you like in all of them.

After a while, you grab Heeseung’s hand and excitedly pull him through all the Ancient Egypt stuff, and he’s too happy that his fingers are locked with yours to worry about his aching feet anymore, and you’re so cute with your wide grin that he doesn’t have the heart to tell you he’d like to sit down. He hates you a little when the two of you take turns writing your names in hieroglyphs, and you somehow manage to maintain your neat handwriting. But you make up for it by writing his name too, drawing a pretty butterfly at the end that makes his heart race.

You start rambling about shabtis and how people were typically buried with a few, depending on their wealth and status, but Tutankhamun was buried with something like four hundred, and some of them were even painted to look like him. “Look at how pretty this one is,” you say, grinning while holding your phone in his face with a picture of one. Your excitement peaks when you reach the big sarcophagus, and you let out a squeal when you open it and three kids run out, bursting into a fit of giggles. You’re excessively cute when you ask him to take a picture of you, and then make him take a video opening the front while you're ‘dead’ inside it. Which takes a few attempts because you’re laughing each time.

You tell him to delete those takes. He doesn’t.

Right when he’s expecting you to get out, you grab him by the wrist and pull him in with you, closing the front of it before letting go of him. Heeseung is certain he’s lived this exact moment before, but he was seventeen and you were giggling like crazy, feeling around in the dark for his shoulders to wrap your arms around before kissing him. He has no idea what he’s supposed to do or what you want him to do, and the feeling of your breath fanning his neck in the tight space isn’t helping.

Silent minutes pass by like hours until a kid pulls the sarcophagus open. The light is blinding but Heeseung steps out, relieved, almost thanking the kid for saving him. You’re fiddling with your necklace and struggling to meet his eyes. When you do though, you shoot him an easy grin, laughing to yourself about nothing.

“Do you want to get something to eat?” Drinks maybe?” you ask after a while, playing with the zipper on your jacket.

Heeseung takes you to a restaurant where university students he’s only seen on Instagram walk around like they own the place. A tired-looking guy comes to take your orders before you even have a chance to take your coat off so Heeseung asks for a minute and the waiter leaves. There’s something in his demeanour though that makes it seem like you only have one full minute to make up your minds.

“What do you want to drink?” you ask, holding the drinks menu out to him.

Heeseung closes it, sitting it on the table. “Probably a beer.”

You laugh at this. “You don’t have to act all manly in front of me.” There’s a soft look in your eyes like you mean it.

“I actually like beer these days.”

Your brows raise and your jaw drops before you utter the word whoa.

“What?” he asks, suddenly self-conscious.

You shrug, collecting yourself. “You’re just.. different now.”

The very prospect of being different is shocking to Heeseung who prides himself on being pretty consistent with his behaviour. His brows knit together as he tilts his head. “Because I like beer?” he asks, scoffing slightly at the mere suggestion.

“I mean, that’s part of it.” To his dismay, this seems to be the end of your sentence. He gives you a little nod, hoping you read his mind and elaborate like he wants you to. “You bleached your hair, pierced your cartilage, what’s next? Are you going to tell me you have a tattoo?”

Heeseung feels his breath catch in his throat when you say the word tattoo but you don’t seem to notice. “It’s been a year,” he points out, folding the corner of his napkin, pressing his thumb against it with enough pressure to leave a defined fold and have it stick up a little when he lets go.

“I know, it’s just.. weird, you know?” Your voice is small when you speak, soft and quiet, barely anything above the noise around you both.

Heeseung nods. He does know.

“You’re weird too.”

“How?” There’s a defensive tone to your voice that makes him chuckle.

“You’ve always been weird.”

A dramatic frown curves your lips and the waiter is back before you can object. Leaning forward slightly, he orders for both of you, the sharing platter of fried chicken, your French Martini, and his controversial draught beer. He doesn’t miss the way you raise your brows when he orders the beer, as if you’d been waiting to catch him out or something. After the waiter leaves, Heeseung meets your gaze briefly, matching the gentle smile on your lips before looking away.

The drinks only take a few minutes and you thank the waiter before looking over at Heeseung, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you slide your cocktail over to him. “Do you want to try?”

He nods, lifting the glass and moving the straw out of the way to take a sip from the rim. Nodding his head, he hums in approval, eyes widening. “It’s good.”

You lean back in your seat, twirling the straw when he hands the drink back to you. “Yeah?” you ask, smiling triumphantly as if you made it yourself. “A normal person would’ve used the straw.”

Heeseung can’t help but roll his eyes, liking the way you laugh. “Are you acting out because I called you weird?”

“A little.”

The waiter places the platter at the centre of the table with a small smile, that you match, clearly hungrier than you’d been letting on as you lick your lips at the sight of the chicken. Heeseung’s stomach grumbles quietly as the scent hits his nose and he feels like he hasn’t eaten in days when a plate lands in front of each of you. A comfortable familiarity settles over him when he lets you pick first, and he knows you feel it too from the sweet smile you give him before eyeing the food. You take a while considering every wing, even though all of the pieces are scarily identical, before picking one and Heeseung follows, choosing with much less care than you, but enjoying it nonetheless.

Under your light-hearted scrutiny, he orders a cocktail the next time the waiter comes around. It’s much better than his beer, and so quickly, one cocktail turns into two until both you and Heeseung are four drinks in, laughing over nothing and putting in an effort not to slur your words together.

Time seems to pass at the same rate as your drinks, though neither of you seems to notice until you check the time on your phone and your mouth falls into a gasp. Heeseung does the same when you show him your screen, you only have ten minutes to make the fifteen-minute walk back to the station so you can catch the last train.

He gets up to settle the bill as quickly as humanly possible before you grab him by the hand and book it out of the restaurant. Though breathless, he knows he can’t let up, running as fast as his legs will carry him as he tugs you along behind him. Somehow you still have it in you to cackle every time either of you trips up.

Out of breath, you both slump into the first seats you find, sobering up a little after the run. He looks at you and feels his heart snag in his chest. “You okay?” he asks, huffing out a breath that pushes his bangs into the air.

“No,” you whine, pouting and resting your head on Heeseung’s shoulder. He lets his head rest on top of yours reaching his hand out to grab your own. He squeezes it gently, in a way he hopes is comforting. You lock your fingers with his before he can pull away and Heeseung’s heart starts pounding again.

He doesn’t realise you’ve fallen asleep until the train reaches your stop and you don’t react. He doesn’t want to wake you up, nor does he want to let go of your hand, but he knows he has to. Heeseung nudges you gently, rousing you from your sleep. “Let’s go,” he mumbles.

Stretching your arms above your head, you nod while yawning.

You take tired steps alongside him on the short walk back to your apartment, not saying anything until you reach your doorstep when you yawn once more, looking up at him. “I actually had fun today, thanks for hanging out with me.”

“Actually?” Heeseung raises a brow. “Did you think you wouldn’t?”

You shrug, chewing on your lip. “I thought it might be awkward.”

“It kind of was.”

“Maybe,” you admit with a nod. “It was a pretty successful first date though.” Your eyes are like saucers as your hand flies up to cover your mouth. “Not in that way. I’m only saying ‘date’ because that’s what I said in the chat—I would’ve called it a date if Hoon came with me, you know? I didn’t see this as a date if that’s what you’re thinking. Because it wasn’t. And I didn’t.”

“Mhm,” Heeseung hums with a sceptical look on his face, finding amusement in watching you scramble to correct yourself. “First dates are always awkward, baby, don’t worry.” The endearment slips out before he can help it, his heart stopping in his chest until he sees you smiling.

“Well, yeah, but this wasn’t a date, baby.”

“Are you sure? I mean, you made me pay for your train ticket, I paid for dinner and drinks. As far as first dates go, I’ve been a perfect gentleman all night.”

“That you have.” You nod once, firmly. “I’m not going to pay you back or anything. And this is hardly our first date.”

Heeseung grins despite himself. “Is this your way of saying I can bill you for our other dates? Do you have savings?”

Your head falls back in laughter, the sound infectious as it falls from your lips. You sigh softly, straightening up after a beat and nudging his shoulder with your fist. “Stop making me laugh or I’ll do something stupid like kiss you.”

His heart races in his chest, caught between your laugh and the thought that maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. “I feel like if we pulled up a typical date timeline we’d be right on track for that, don’t you think?”

“Heeseung,” you mumble, face softening. It doesn’t seem like you’re finding this funny anymore. Your gaze locks on his lips — a hyper focus that makes him press them together nervously — before snapping up to meet his eyes. You gulp. “Goodnight, thank you for today.”

“Anytime.”

“Don’t say that or I’ll take you up on it.”

Heeseung shrugs. “You say that like I’d have a problem with it.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“Never.”

A small laugh comes through your nose as you smile up at him. “I’ll see you, let me know when you get home.”

“Got it.”

Wordlessly, you open the door, crossing the threshold before saying goodnight again. Heeseung says it back, watching you shut the door and waiting for the lock to click before he leaves.

He’s never drinking with you again.

Heeseung feels like he’s settling into the role of your friend quite well. So well that he can spend time alone with you without the discomfort he felt in September. Maybe he’s taking liberties, bending the word friendship to suit him, but as you lie in his bed together, your head on his chest as you nap, he can’t bring himself to care too much. He knows he’ll get hurt by this at some point, but for now, he’s just happy to play with your hair and try his best to fall asleep too. You don’t stir when Jay opens the door, stopping dead in his tracks at the sight before him, tilting his head before closing the door quietly.

Sleep never reaches him, but he pretends to yawn, rubbing at his eyes when your alarm wakes you up, making a point to stretch his arms over his head and only respond to you in a lazy mumble when you speak. “Whose idea was it to nap between classes, again?”

“I think it was yours.”

“Damn,’ you mumble, yawning again before laying back down, head returning to his chest as if drawn by a magnet. “I think ten more minutes, fifteen, and then we wake up and go back.”

“Or we could skip?”

The suggestion makes you jolt upright, fully awake now. You let your eyes drag over his face, and maybe Heeseung’s being hopeful or straight-up imagining things, but your gaze lingers on his lips for more than a few seconds before you gulp and meet his eyes. “Lee Heeseung trying to skip class? I never thought I’d see the day.” A smile spreads over your lips, turning into a laugh as you throw your head back. “That was funny, Hee. Let’s go.’

Heeseung’s brows furrow, watching you stretch your arms out in front of you. Was it so hard to believe he would skip class if it meant spending more time with you? His lips settle into a pout. “I’m serious.”

“No, you’re scaring me. Come on, let’s go,” you say, making no attempts to get up.

To prove a point, Heeseung shifts under the covers, lying on his side with his back to you. “You go ahead, I’m staying.”

You sigh but don’t get out of bed, only lying down next to him and draping an arm over his waist. “Ten more minutes.” You press yourself against his back and he feels his heart racing. As quickly as he feels it, you stiffen behind him. “I’m not crossing a line, right? Holding you like this? It’s always been easier to sleep if you’re next to me,” you say into his shirt.

Remembering the way you would cuddle into his side during sleepovers, his heart aches, wondering if you had endured the same sleepless nights as him. Heeseung only lifts your arm to turn onto his back, pulling you onto his chest like you had been earlier. “Fifteen,” he says.

Seeing as neither of you bothered to set another alarm, you sleep through class, only waking up when it’s dark out and Jay comes back. “I bought dinner, come eat,” he says, leaving the door open on his way out.

Wordlessly, you both peel yourselves from bed, dragging your feet to the kitchen to wash your hands before joining Jay in the living room. Heeseung sits cross-legged on the floor by the coffee table while you and Jay sit on the couch. He’s not awake enough to fully register your conversation over the rustle of plastic takeout bags and his sudden overwhelming hunger, but you’re telling Jay to shut up, mumbling something and he lets out an exaggerated groan, clutching his chest when Heeseung turns around to hand over your food.

With his elbows on the table, he takes a bite from his burger and has to suppress a moan. Most of your conversation with Jay goes over his head and he doesn’t realise how much time has gone by until you’re standing at the door pulling on your shoes. Given the way Jay’s lying on the couch, Heeseung assumes he’s on walking-you-home duty and grabs a jacket before stuffing his feet into Jay’s slides.

The conversation is light as you walk together, Heeseung making sure he’s on the edge of the pavement the whole time and letting you talk about your friends. The walk has become so natural now that he only realises you’re approaching home when you take out your key to open the door to your building.

“Do you want to meet before class tomorrow? To go over the slides we missed today?” you ask, with something behind your eyes that Heeseung sleepily interprets as hope.

He nods, smiling at you and waiting for you to lock the door before he leaves.

Jay’s awake when Heeseung gets back home; he can’t say he’s surprised. Heeseung only nods at Jay, who sits on the couch, but he knows his flatmate well enough to know there’s a conversation coming because the TV is off and his laptop is shut. Heeseung makes it all the way to his door before Jay says anything. “You’re in way over your head.”

Heeseung sighs, not in the mood. “Okay. Night,” he says, opening the door.

By the time November arrives and Jake’s birthday approaches, everything is back to normal again. Turning nineteen, Jake celebrates with a modest pub crawl that spirals into a three-day bender, leaving him bedridden for nearly a week due to dehydration and fear of a test he’d forgotten to study for.

In standard Jake fashion, he manages to bounce back and sits across from Jay at his favourite restaurant only six days after his actual birthday. Considering the state he was in, it’s a wonder he can stomach the smell of alcohol, let alone down four cocktails without a pause. Jay and Sunghoon exchange sighs, each supporting one of Jake’s sleeping arms on their shoulders to carry him home.

“Cover the bill and let me know the amount. I’ll transfer you in the morning,” Jay mumbles before they leave.

You shake your head when Heeseung asks if you want to go home as well. “Unless you want to,” you say, all of your words blending together. “If you want to go home, we can. I don’t want you sitting here bored or anything.”

Heeseung smiles. “I’m not bored, we can stay as long as you like.” You seem to take this to heart, nodding and flagging down a waiter to order more drinks. “Let’s maybe slow down a little though,” he suggests.

He pours you a glass of water and makes you drink the whole thing, withholding your alcohol until you’ve finished the cold tteokbokki in front of you. Gradually, you become more coherent, wiping your face with your hands and sitting up a little straighter. You thank him when he pours soju for you and take tiny sips from the glass here and there, telling Heeseung about some of the friends you made while you were away. There’s Yizhuo—sweet, funny, and down-to-earth. And Minjeong—a quiet girl who needed a while to warm up to new people. You tell him about meeting her for the first time, how unsure she seemed when Yizhuo introduced you two, but by the end of the night, she was falling asleep next to you in bed with her arms and legs tangled around you.

“Do you miss them?” It’s a stupid question, anyone could tell from the fond smile on your face that you do.

A beat passes while you think about it before shrugging. “Not as much as I missed being here.” If he wasn’t watching you, or looking you straight in the eye, he probably would’ve missed the longing in your gaze.

He’s never known you to be subtle after a drink, and Heeseung knows he needs to nip this conversation in the bud before either of you says something you can’t take back. “How are you getting on with your research task?” he asks, while at the same time you say, “I’m so happy to be back.”

A short laugh slips out of you, a hand falling to the table before wrapping around your glass. You bring it up to your face but don’t drink, only looking down into it as if it’ll tell you what to say. “Are you happy I’m back?”

“Sure,” Heeseung says noncommittally.

You sigh, sinking into your seat a little. “I loved you. I still love you,” you mumble. “Even after all that.”

He’s not sure what to make of this, of anything you’re saying. It’s not like you had a messy breakup or anything. At least, he wouldn’t describe his long-term girlfriend breaking up with him and asking if they could be friends after as messy. Even in heartbreak, Heeseung was a reasonable person, and any reasonable person would’ve said no. Like he did.

“I still.. You’re still the one for me.”

His stomach lurches violently. “Don’t say that.” He gets out of his seat quicker than he means to and leaves you at the table, tapping his foot as he waits in line by the bar to pay the bill, praying he’s right about the two of you sitting at table ten when the cashier asks. With a folded receipt in his pocket and too much to think about, he returns to the table, only putting on his coat and mumbling, “Let’s go.”

For some reason, you don’t seem to mirror his urgency, only finishing off the drink you had left in one go and sitting for a bit longer. He takes your jacket from the back of your chair and holds it open for you, helping you into it when you finally stand up. “Thanks,” you giggle.

Heeseung says nothing.

The silence and fresh air outside are sobering as he watches an Uber driver through the app, very slowly moving from two minutes away to one before arriving. Maybe if you hadn’t said what you said at the table, he might have warmed to the idea of a forty-minute walk alone with you, but you did say those things and even the thought of this fifteen-minute car ride is unbearable when John (4.9 stars) pulls up on the curb outside. You thank Heeseung quietly when he opens the door for you, and against his better judgement, he walks over to the other side of the car and sits in the middle seat like he used to.

Slow R&B murmurs through the speakers as the driver pulls off while Heeseung hums along. His thigh is pressed against yours but he does his best not to think about it, only chewing his lip when you rest your head on his shoulder. He lets his head rest on top of yours before regretting it.

He doesn’t move.

It feels a little bit like the driver is playing Heeseung’s playlist, as every song he knows and loves seems to come on one after the other, steeping him in an odd comfort in the backseat of this car.

Your hand falls onto his knee so clumsily he’s sure it’s a mistake, so sure you’ll move it back into your lap that he’s genuinely surprised when you don’t. Unsure what to do, he chooses not to acknowledge it, acting like you sitting so close to him, like the feeling that no time has passed, doesn’t make his heart clench. Slowly but surely, your hand inches up his thigh—a motion Heeseung stops as soon as he realises, his hand falling heavily over yours and pushing it back to his knee. He thinks about keeping it there, but when he feels his thumb stroking your skin, he moves his hand immediately. You’ve obviously gotten the wrong idea. For a moment, he wonders if you’ve actually gotten the right idea. You have. But it can’t happen like this. After a few minutes, you move your hand again, and like before, Heeseung pushes it back, keeping his hand over yours and reminding himself not to move his thumb.

You’re drunk. This will pass.

Finally, the driver parks outside your building, and Heeseung’s sure his “thank you so much” holds the world’s sincerity in it as he unbuckles his seatbelt and practically leaps out of the car. He opens your door and has to undo your belt for you, helping you out and thanking the driver again.

There’s a couple leaving the building when the two of you reach the door, and with your arms wrapped around his, he thanks them when they hold it open.

The lift takes forever to come and Heeseung pushes the up button five times before it arrives. He lets the girl in fleecy pyjamas with a takeout bag in her hand go in first before following, pressing the button reading 7 before relaxing a bit. Under the protection of a stranger, he knows you won’t do anything. The journey to your floor feels like hours as the lift drags its way up the shaft—why does nothing share his urgency?

You don’t say anything until the elevator door swooshes shut behind you. “I love you, Heeseung. You know I love you.” You’re saying everything he’s been wanting you to say for ages, but the words make his words sting.

“Do you know where your keys are?” he asks, though you still have a ways to go before you reach your door.

“My pocket,” you mumble.

Heeseung finds your keys, unlocks the door and helps you in. As much as he wants to leave, he knows if he does, you won’t take your makeup off or change, so he holds your hair back for you as you brush your teeth and wash your face in the sink quietly.

In your bedroom, you search through your drawers, pulling out something to wear. He turns his back to you and ends up face-to-face with an old photo of the two of you from school.

“You can look, Hee.”

Drawn to the picture, he doesn’t reply. The boys are in it too, but it feels like you two are the focus. Everyone’s smiling at the camera except Heeseung, who — with his arm around you — stares at the side of your face with a lopsided smile. Happiness radiates from his being, lighting his eyes and face.

“I want you to look.” The softness and desperation in your voice tug his heart.

“Come on ba—” Heeseung sighs. “Just get dressed, yeah?”

You don’t say anything but he can hear the rustle of your clothes as you change.

Jealousy blooms in his chest, looking at himself three years ago. Happy and full of love for you and your friends, for life. Everything was so easy then. His chest tightens and he has to close his eyes.

Heeseung feels you next to him, hears your jewellery falling into the clay holder on your dresser and opens his eyes, looking at you. You’re in a t-shirt he’s sure belongs to Jake and struggling with the clasp on your necklace. He knows you want him to help but he feels like he can’t move.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but I really do want to be with you,” you say when you finally get the necklace off. “And I know I’m too late, but I didn’t break up with you because I didn’t want to be with you.”

You’re so close the peppermint on your breath hits him like a wave. A distinct smell of citrus and summer, of Jake, comes from your body, mixed up with the scent of you in a way that makes him uneasy.

He gets a headache trying to make sense of your words, if it wasn’t that you didn’t want to be with him, then what was it? Even back then, you didn’t elaborate, you just repeated his name and the words: it’s not your fault, over and over until they sounded made up. Heeseung can’t entertain this conversation, not now. Not when you’re drunk and looking up at him with longing in your eyes. “I think we need to get you to bed,” Heeseung mumbles, taking a step back. “I’ll get you some water.”

“But I’m here now and we can be together again.”

“You moving was never the problem. You know that wasn’t the problem.” A tear slips down your cheek and he softens immediately. “I wanted to go with you, I was going to go with you.”

You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, frowning. “This university was your dream. How could I let you give up your scholarship for me?”

“You were my dream,” he admits. “And it wasn’t your decision to make.”

“You would have made the wrong one.”

Heeseung scoffs. “Do you think breaking up was the right one?”

Your silence is brutally telling. You squeeze your eyes shut as if trying to magic yourself out of the conversation, but it only makes more tears fall. A realisation hits him like a truck: you’re thinking about it. A painful lump forms in his throat. How could you have anything to think about? How was breaking up with him, not the single worst decision you’ve ever made? He can’t believe you could have let go so easily if you loved him. Long distance wouldn’t have been easy, but surely if you loved him, you would have made it work. You would have tried. Heeseung wishes he hadn’t asked at all.

“I do,” you say finally, opening your eyes to look at him.

His heart is heavy in his chest. “Okay.”

“Heeseung.”

“What?”

A stomach-churning sob falls out of you. “I don’t know.”

Another silence weighs the room down and Heeseung knows what he needs to do. He sighs. “Let’s just.. I should go.”

You don’t put up a fight, you don’t say anything, only letting your shoulders droop before you sigh and lead Heeseung to the front door. He says goodbye as he puts his shoes on and all you do is watch as he leaves your apartment. He waits for you to close the door and lock it before walking away.

Heeseung walks all the way home and only cries when he closes his door, sliding down the back of it like something from a movie. With tears in his eyes, and his knees to his chest, he pulls out his phone to text you. I hope your hangover isn’t too bad, he types. Let’s only talk when we need to.

The two of you manage to hold this up, with you finding others to sit with during classes, and no one seeming to question Heeseung’s skipping plans or new close friendship with Mark’s group who he spends time with between classes instead. But as always, things have a funny way of going different to how Heeseung expected them to.

After three weeks of near radio silence, Jay barges into his room with his face scrunched up. “What are you doing?”

“Right now?” Heeseung asks, confused. Standing by the bed with the corner of his duvet in his hand, in nothing but his underwear, he thinks his plans look a little obvious. “I’m about to jerk off.”

Jay rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “You know what I mean.”

“Evidently, I do not.”

“Why don’t you hang out with us anymore?” he asks, squinting at Heeseung.

“We’re hanging out right now.”

“Forgive me if I don’t count an impromptu circle jerk as hanging out.”

“I don’t.. want to do that.”

Jay clutches his chest. “I’m crushed.”

Heeseung studies his expression. Serious, an inch of concern pooling in his eyes. “We dated for six years, she dumped me, I turned into a shell of myself, but she moved back home and we’re all friends again, so I think things are looking up for me.”

A deep sigh leaves Jay as he sits on the bed. “What happened at the bar with YN three weeks ago when we all left?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“What exactly counts as ordinary for you two?”

Heeseung’s still trying to figure that out. He shrugs. “Making the right decisions.”

“So you’re okay?”

“Never better.’

“You don’t have to lie to me, you know?” There’s a sincere look on Jay’s face as he leans back on his hands.

“Which is why I’m being honest.”

It doesn’t seem like Jay’s going to let this go, but to Heeseung’s surprise, he smiles. “Perfect,” he says, standing up from the bed and walking over to the mirror where he checks himself out. “Because she and the guys are going to be here in ten. Put some clothes on.”

He does just that, pulling some shorts over his hips and a shirt over his head before pulling the two bean bag chairs stacked next to the couch to sit in front of the TV, claiming one of them with his body by sinking into it. The cosy material is soft against his thighs and he wonders why they don’t use them more.

Ten minutes go by like seconds when Jay gets up to answer the door, laughing at something one of you says before leading you all into the living room. He’s watching some show Jay left on, greeting you and the boys with a wave before turning back to the TV. Behind him, the four of you laugh and talk on the couch but Heeesung’s too wrapped up in an argument on screen to join in. His attention only falters when he reaches for the open six-pack on the coffee table. It’s barely out of his reach, so he turns around to take a beer, trying to ignore the way his heart sinks in his chest seeing you and Jay cuddled up together. It’s friendly, he knows that. Jay’s with Yunjin and you’re.. He’s still not sure, but it hurts nonetheless. You’re bickering over a bowl of popcorn and he only laughs when you throw a handful at him.

The red speaker Sunghoon’s holding chimes three times when he turns it on, a Frank Ocean thudding out of it that drowns out the show he’s watching, leaving him to follow along with the subtitles instead. But he can’t focus.

Heeseung tries to settle his heartache, comforting himself with the thought of the two of you in another reality. One where it’s him instead of Jay. Or one where you come over and sit with him, curling up in his lap, pouting because Jay’s being mean. He pictures himself stroking your hair and kissing away your pout, holding you into his chest when Jake and Sunghoon start teasing you. In this reality, however, he watches you peel Jay’s shirt from his chest and dump a handful of popcorn in the gap, cackling to yourself at the clear frustration he doesn’t verbalise. Heeseung sighs, looking back at the TV and taking a sad sip of his sad beer.

After a while, you fall into the beanbag next to him, sprawling out over the whole thing and looking at him. “Hey, Heeseung.”

“Hello.”

“I’m sorry about that night.” Your voice is quiet, clearly apologetic if the way you don’t meet his eyes is anything to go by.

“Okay.” Heeseung nods and a beat passes. “I meant what I said, what I texted you.” It hurts to say but it’s for the best. He stands up out of the beanbag, making a show of stretching his arms and legs before sinking into the couch next to Jake. Over Jake’s slouched form, Jay shoots him a look, arching a brow. Heeseung only stages a chuckle, shrugging before looking at the TV again. He can’t make sense of anything on the screen.

Sunghoon emerges from Jay’s room with a grin on his face, asking when you’re going to eat. In standard fashion, the four of you stand around Jay in the kitchen, bothering him by telling him what to do like he’s a child as he puts frozen pizza and some garlic bread in the oven.

“The middle one’s the timer,” Jake says, pointing at the knobs above the oven door. “It’s there so you can set how long the food needs to cook for, and after you set it, it’ll go off so you know it’s ready.”

“But it’s all up to you and your discretion. You can open the door whenever you want to check on everything,” you coo, patting his shoulder.

If Jay’s actually annoyed, nothing about his smile gives it away as he nods with a clenched fist, closing the door and sitting next to Heeseung on the countertop. Heeseung’s almost too busy focusing on the way his beer heats his stomach to notice the way you watch him with a small frown from barely an arm’s length away. Sunghoon picks up on your declining mood and thrusts an open bottle into your hand. “We like to drink with—” He’s cut off by Jay taking the bottle and setting it behind you on the counter, mumbling cut it out, dude, and tugging you out of the kitchen by the arm when he notices the tears in your eyes.

He hears Jay’s door close and nobody says anything until the timer goes off and Jay comes back alone, filling a plate with food and going back to his room.

“Thanks for dinner,” Jake says to the back of Jay’s head, offbeat and half smiling as he washes his hands in the sink.

Sitting at the table, he watches Jake and Sunghoon eat while pretending nothing’s wrong.

At the end of the night, when everyone’s gone home, Heeseung gets into bed, barely managing to pull the duvet up when there’s a knock at his door. “Yeah?” he calls out. Jay appears with his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he says quickly.

Jay regards him with a frown. “I didn’t even say anything.”

“You were going to.”

“Yeah.” He nods, and Heeseung prepares himself for a lecture. “I was going to say, I’m going home next week, for Christmas, so I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

The holidays go by in a soju and tteokguk-filled blur, with Heeseung choosing to stay at home until the day of his first class of the second semester so he doesn’t have to be around you. He tells himself it’s for the good of your friend group, as he watches you all make plans in the group chat through notification bubbles, so he doesn’t leave a read receipt.

The commute is more jarring than he realised. What had been a twenty-minute drive turns into an hour-long journey, including a thirty-minute walk to the train station ‘near’ house, fifteen minutes on the train into the city centre, and another fifteen minutes on foot to campus. He’s drenched in sweat despite the below-zero temperature and has to make a stop to the bathroom to sort himself out.

He arrives early at least, finding the room where his Ethnography: Theory and Practice 2 class is set to start in fifteen minutes. The only indicator that he’s in the right place is the lecturer’s name and contact information written in the top corner of a whiteboard, and Heeseung picks the seat furthest from the door. It’s an elective class and, judging by the nine empty chairs next to him, not a very popular one. He’s relieved at least that he’ll be able to start off the semester without running into anyone he knows, least of all you. As seats start filling up and the lecturer arrives, he’s feeling unusually lucky.

So, of course, you show up, running a hand through your hair as you walk through the open door, apologising for being late even though there are still two minutes until the class is scheduled to begin. Of course, the only empty seat is the one next to him, which you sit in without looking at him, making an effort to angle your body away from him. Of course, the lecturer assigns a presentation for two weeks time, pairing the class with the person they’re sitting beside. Neither you nor Heeseung say a word to each other, but you raise your hand when prompted to pick a topic to cover. He can’t help his irritation at you for making the decision without asking him, but you look so nice in your hoodie with your hair tied up that his annoyance settles before it has a chance to bloom.

“YN YLN and Heeseung Lee, we’ll do music and cultural expression,” you say, picking the topic he wanted to do anyway.

When class is over, you’re quick to get out of your seat, pulling on your jacket and stuffing your laptop back into your bag before leaving so quickly that Heeseung has to leave his stuff behind to go after you. You don’t stop walking when he calls out your name, and too scared to make a scene, he overtakes you, leaving you with no option but to stop in front of him.

“We should go to the library, get the research and shit out of the way ASAP,” he suggests.

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yeah, okay, I’m going to get my stuff.”

You follow him back to class, watching from the door as he puts his things in his bag before putting on his jacket. You don’t say anything on the walk to the library, when you get there, or when you browse the Cultural Studies section. Heeseung glances at you and you’re chewing on your lip, crouching a bit to read the spines of the books on the lower shelves. “Are you alright?” he asks with genuine concern.

You look up at him, nodding.

“Are you sure? Because you haven’t said anything in an hour.”

This makes you straighten up, your brows furrowing in an expression he can’t figure out. “Sorry, Heeseung,” you say, your voice weak. “I’m just trying to figure out if you think I need to talk right now.”

“Obviously, a paired project is a situation where we need to talk.”

You sigh, muttering oh, my God, before you look at him. “You know what, I’m going home. Let’s do this tomorrow.”

“We have class in twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, I’ll read the slides when I get in.”

Unsure what to say, he watches you walk away, deciding that he should just go home too.

At the flat he hasn’t seen in five weeks, Heeseung feels slightly out of place, going straight to his room and into bed, not even getting up when he hears Jay coming home. Jay opens the door without knocking, his mouth falling into an excited ‘o’ shape. “Hey, stranger,” he says. “I thought you weren’t coming back, so I started advertising your room on Gumtree.”

“Any offers?”

“No one as good as you.” Heeseung doesn’t have to look at Jay to know he’s smiling. “Move over,” he mumbles, lifting the duvet.

Lazily, he rolls over in bed, making room for Jay who makes himself comfortable under the covers.

“What are you doing, Heeseung?”

“Trying to sleep.”

“Talk to me, help me understand.” Jay sighs and Heeseung’s lips curl into a frown. “You’re my best friend,” Jay says quietly, with a tenderness that strikes him.

“You’re my best friend,” Heeseung repeats like an affirmation.

“So why won’t you talk to me?”

There’s a subtle hurt in Jay’s voice that upsets Heeseung, who shifts around to lie on his back. “I don’t think there’s anything I can tell you that YN hasn’t already.”

“She only told me that she fucked up.”

Hearing it from someone else’s mouth makes it sound drastic, especially considering he’s the one who left. Again. But he’s too bitter to say that out loud so he bites his tongue. “Seems to be the theme in our relationship.” The words taste rotten when he says them.

“Just because you’re my best friend doesn’t mean you get to be a dick,” Jay says. “What happened?”

It takes some time but Heeseung explains everything, letting Jay ask questions and make comments until the end when he looks away, pressing his eyes shut and saying, “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I don’t think I get it. Boy loves girl. Girl loves boy. Why can’t you just be together already?”

Everything sounds painfully simple when it’s put like that. But there’s too much between you both for it to go that way. It’s not like he didn’t want to be with you when you confessed, it’s that he didn’t know how he could without knowing why you left him in the first place. Without knowing what he did that was so terrible you couldn’t stand to be in a relationship with him, never mind the same area code.

A beat passes before Heeseung speaks. “There was something wrong, and instead of trying to fix it, she just.. gave up. I would’ve done anything she asked me to. I could’ve changed, could’ve fixed things, but she didn’t even tell me.”

“Maybe she didn’t feel like she could. I don’t think she wanted to hurt you, Heeseung.”

“But she did.”

“Yeah,” Jay admits, sympathy lacing the word.

“How can I be with her knowing there’s some awful part of me she hates?”

“It’s not like that, not really.”

“What’s it like then?”

“I’m not sure it’s my place to say.”

Heeseung laughs, shaking his head. “Do you keep my secrets as dutifully as you keep hers?”

“Are you kidding? She doesn’t even know you have secrets.” Jay sounds exhausted as he speaks, and it’s the last sound to come from him until a few minutes pass and Heeseung hears him snoring.

You didn’t reply when Heeseung texted you asking to meet in the library before class, but you show up anyway, pulling out the seat across from him and dumping your bag on the table. “I don’t know if you saw the email, but the partner work is just for the presentation.”

“Cool.” he nods, relieved.

“I think after that, I’ll start hanging out with Yunjin instead, so you’re not uncomfortable.”

Heeseung frowns, shaking his head. “I’m not uncomfortable around you,” he says. “I just don’t.. get you. You dump me and move as far away as you can. Now you’re back and what? You love me again?”

You furrow your brows, inspecting him for a moment before you speak. “I don’t love you again, Heeseung. I’ve loved you this whole time.”

“So why didn’t you choose me? I just wanted you to choose me.” He’s too anxious to know the truth to worry about how desperate he must sound. Until he notices that the guys sitting at the other end of the tables are watching him, their brows arched sharply in a mixture of shock and curiosity. Heeseung runs a hand over his face, hoping the motion might wipe away the flush burning his cheeks.

“You wanted me to choose you over my future?”

“I could’ve been your future, part of it. I’d never ask you to choose me over university, you know I wouldn’t. I’m saying you could’ve had both.”

“It wasn’t as easy as that.”

“Why not?”

“Heeseung,” you say like it’s an answer.

“Just tell me why you didn’t want me. That’s all I want to know.”

The following silence makes him consider packing up abruptly and faking an emergency. He’s sure he could probably fake his death if he slumps in his chair slowly enough.

You sigh heavily, interrupting his train of thought—now, he’s wondering if he even wants to know. “Because you would’ve put me first,” you say, avoiding his gaze. “If I stayed here or moved away, I would’ve been your top priority and I couldn’t let you throw away everything you worked for, for me.”

“I loved you, of course, you were my top priority.” He can’t believe he even has to say it, can’t believe you might have thought you weren’t the single most important thing in his life.

“Heeseung, you were sacrificing your life for me. You missed your cousin’s engagement party to help me study for a history test, you deferred your scholarship entry by a year just so we could go to college at the same time. How could I keep letting you miss out on your life?”

“Deferring my entry wasn’t just for you,” he lies. “And it’s not like I missed the wedding.”

“But I think you would’ve if I stubbed my toe.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

You sigh again, shaking your head. “Do you hear yourself? You can’t keep living like that, you can’t just throw everything away. You’re such a hard worker, Heeseung, and I’d hate to see you waste that over some girl.”

“But you’re you. You weren’t just ‘some girl’ you were my girl.” He doesn’t mean to say it but it’s true. “We were in high school and I was studying constantly; it didn’t matter back then. And you were so far away, it’s not like I could feasibly drop everything and go to you every time something happened.”

“Heeseung.”

“You had a choice.”

“Heeseung.”

The way you’re saying his name reminds him of your breakup—the pink walls of your childhood bedroom and the pictures of the two of you stuck up all over them, in frames on your desk, and stickers on your light switch. How they seemed to close in around him as he put all of his energy into staying on two feet, instead of falling to the floor and begging you on hands and knees to stay with him.

“Why didn’t you just tell me? I’ve spent the last year and a half wondering what I did wrong, I don’t understand why you didn’t just tell me.” We could’ve tried, he wants to say. I could have changed and we could’ve tried.

“I didn’t want you to lose that. I felt really lucky that you loved me like that, and I didn’t want to rob someone else of it, you know. I thought maybe you’d find a balance with someone someday, but I didn’t think that person would be me.”

Heeseung has to put in an effort to stop his jaw from dropping. How could there ever be someone else? How could you ever think he could have someone else? There’s so much he wants to say, to ask, but he can tell by the way you press your lips together that you’re done with the conversation.

“It’s not too late.”

You tilt your head at him. “What?”

“In your room that night, you said you were too late,” he explains. “I love you.”

“Still?”

His heart shifts uncomfortably in his chest at the tone of your voice and the way your eyebrows shoot up. “Always,” he says.

A smile starts to curve your lips, but it slips before it has a chance to bloom, stifled happiness that you cover with your hands, hiding your face completely. “I don’t think we should talk about this here.” Your palms muffle the words but not their impact; you’re right and he knows it.

It’s been a year—the longest of his life, and the hard part is already over. He knows now and he’ll do anything he can to fix it. “Right.” Heeseung nods but you’re not looking at him. He’s going to fix it. For now, though, he says, “What’s our research topic again?” Despite having had Music and Cultural Expression typed into the search bar since before you arrived.

With Heeseung’s work ethic and your commitment to being the best, the presentation goes quite smoothly. You make no mistakes, and Heeseung, distracted by how pretty you look in professional attire, manages to stumble through the script he’d rehearsed. The two of you even win the first place prize — satisfaction that you got a perfect score — and celebrate with coffee afterwards.

Between the four walls of the campus café, you and Heeseung sip lattes that taste like temperature — still too hot to have a real flavour — and laugh with each other about something Jay said when you all hung out last night. Neither of you mentions your conversation from two weeks ago, deciding instead to fall into the patterns of your first term together: napping in his bed after class and coming up with excuses for alone time. He makes an effort to follow through with his commitments, even when you ask him to hang out, to show you that he’s different now. If you’ve noticed, you haven’t said anything about it, but Heeseung tells himself it’s a good thing while missing shots on the court with Mark, too hung up on you to focus on anything else. The only thing left is to figure out a way to be yours again and do everything he can to make sure he doesn’t lose you.

Over your shoulder, through the window, the sun slips below the horizon, casting long shadows around the café. He takes a deep breath when he looks at you, smiling down at your phone as you take a picture of your half-drunk latte and the milky swirls still peeking through your coffee. A tangible determination settles in his chest as evening’s first stars appear in the sky, he knows one thing for sure: he has to grab the chance to be yours again with both hands, and once it’s his, he won’t let go this time.

The café may be clearing out, but his heart is full of hope and for the time being, sitting with you as a friend is.. fine.

You’d often imagined what it would be like if you hadn’t broken up with Lee Heeseung.

Most of your first year was spent daydreaming about him in all of your usual hangouts. Sometimes, at drinks with your friends, you envisioned him showing up, a smile on his face as he apologised for being late. He’d slide into the booth next to you, wrap his arm around your shoulders and kiss your cheek. Other times you imagined him showing up to surprise you, sitting on a bench in the quad and grinning when he saw you leaving. He’d run up to you with open arms and a bouquet in his hand, wrapping you in a hug and whispering that he missed you too much to wait another day to see you. You would even fall asleep thinking about FaceTime calls that stayed on overnight or drunken texts after the club, misspelt I love yous and can’t wait to see yous filling your text thread.

You didn’t tell your new friends much about him, briefly mentioning a partner you’d watched some film with or an artist he liked if they came up, and most nights were spent begging Jay to send you Heeseung’s social media posts and tell you every detail of the day they had without you. Based on accounts from Jay, Jake, and Sunghoon, it seemed like he was getting on well, a fact that — while hurtful — pushed you to try and do the same. After a month of avoiding your flatmates, you finally managed to connect with them, going to various social events around campus and rolling your eyes any time a drunk guy complimented you.

This is why it took you by surprise to see him at Mark Lee’s party in the summer—sitting alone in the garden, in sweatpants and a flannel, looking at his phone with a deep frown etched over his lips. When you think about it, it feels like so long has passed since then and it’s hard to believe it wasn’t even a year ago.

Being back in Heeseung’s life has been more challenging than you thought it would be when you filled out your transfer application. Especially in the weeks since you finished your presentation together, since you suggested the library might not have been the right place for the conversation you were having and never followed up on.

Now doesn’t seem like the right time either—you’re sitting on the floor in Jake and Sunghoon’s living room with your back against the couch, sharing a blanket with Heeseung. Jay left about an hour ago to go to Yunjin’s, leaving the four of you to your own devices. You know you can’t bring it up with Jake and Sunghoon around, but you’ve had plenty of opportunities to over the last month.

When you finished your celebratory lattes, Heeseung walked you home. The sky was a perfect inky black, and it was cold enough to see your breath, just the way he liked, so cold he offered you his jacket to wear. He didn’t say anything about it, only shrugging it off and setting it gently over your shoulders, shocking you so much that you stopped walking. The scent of his cologne, dark and woody, was overwhelming as you slid your arms into the sleeves, zipping it up and after three paces without you, Heeseung turned his head with wide eyes. You could have said it then, you wanted to say it then, but you bit your tongue and thanked him instead. He smiled, gulping when you closed the gap, you should have kissed him, he was close enough, his lips just a tip-toe and tilted head away, but you hugged him instead.

After that, the two of you had all the time in the world together. Between your shared classes and going for meals alone. All the time you’d spend in his living room together, cosy on the couch when Jay would go to sleep. So many moments to talk, to get back together, but the words would die in your throat every time you thought them. It all seemed too cheesy or not cheesy enough, too dramatic or too casual, you couldn’t strike a balance and had no idea how to even find one.

Last night was probably the most jarring occasion. Yunjin and Chaewon had been trying to convince you to go the club all week but you just weren’t in the mood. They seemed happy enough when you suggested hosting pres—but now you think they’d been hoping you’d be so drunk you’d just agree to go out. Yunjin brought half a litre of vodka and Chaewon brought a soup flask with enough murky cocktail in it to feed a small family. Together, the three of you drank and gossiped around the small table in your living room, with Chaewon’s phone in a glass to amplify her playlist. After taking a whiff of whatever she brought, you and Yunjin decided — for everyone’s wellbeing — to hide her flask and take shots of vodka, finishing off the cider you had left in the fridge.

“Please come out,” Yunjin begged. “I’ll feel bad leaving you here, all pretty and drunk by yourself.”

“I’ll feel bad too!” Chaewon added, clasping her hands. “Not bad enough to stay with you, but I’ll probably have less fun.”

You shook your head. “I don’t even have an outfit.” The words were like music to their ears and you regretted them as soon as you said them. Both girls grabbed you by the hand, tugging you to your room and flinging open your wardrobe. Yunjin looked for a top and Chaewon for a skirt, though both of them gasped when they saw the dress you wore for Heeseung’s birthday. Chaewon pulled it from the rack, holding it out in front of her.

“We won’t pay for anything if you wear this,” she squealed before she and Yunjin started chanting: Free booze! Free booze!

You sighed, thinking of Heeseung and shook your head again. That dress, though beautiful, hadn’t been enough for him to lose all composure and skip the party in favour of fucking you into the mattress, and you didn’t love the idea of guys that weren’t him ogling you all night. “Anything but that dress.”

Yunjin and Chaewon seemed sad, but you were able to distract them by bringing out the disaster cocktail the oldest girl brewed earlier, pouring each of them half a glass and ordering an Uber to come and take them away. You promised them you’d go out next time, locking your pinkies with theirs and closing the door behind them.

Alone in your room, with nothing but thoughts of Heeseung to keep you company, you called him. He answered right away. You can’t remember exactly what you said but you remember the soft sigh he let out when you said it. You could practically see him tilting his head, weighing his options.

“I’m trying to get a paper finished, it’s due Monday,” he said finally.

“But it’s Thursday.”

“Yeah, and I want to have my weekend free. If you’re still up when I’m done, I’ll come over, okay?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

Heeseung hung up after that and you got out of bed to clean up, hoping the time would fly. It didn’t, but your flat was clean again so you pretended not to mind.

He called you after midnight. “Do you still want me to come over?” he asked, breathless.

“Please.” There was a knock on your door after you spoke and you mumbled hold on before going to check it. Warped by the peephole, you saw Heeseung standing there, holding his phone to his ear and playing with the zipper on his jacket. He hugged you when you opened the door, asking if you were okay. “Perfect,” you said, looking into his eyes.

His pretty face scrunched up and he pinched his nostrils shut with his fingers, turning his head. “Well, you smell like a distillery.”

Heeseung stood in the doorway of the bathroom while you brushed your teeth, grinning every time his eyes met yours in the mirror. Tell him now, you thought. You have to tell him now. Those thoughts nagged you as you gargled mouthwash, plagued you when you hugged him again and tortured you when he carried you to bed.

He stiffened when kissed his jaw. “You can’t do that,” he mumbled, setting you down under the duvet. “Not now.”

Then when? you wanted to say. “I’m sorry,” you said.

Heeseung sighed, shaking his head. “No, it’s just.. It’s okay.”

Neither of you spoke after that, you made room for him on the bed and he lay down next to you, let you rest your head on his chest and played with your hair until you fell asleep. He was gone when you woke up in the morning but he left a glass of water and some paracetamol on your end table, along with a note.

I had to go to class and you wouldn’t wake up :( We’ll talk about everything soon, we have to. See you at Jake and Sunghoon’s later?

— Your Hee.

If you hadn’t been drunk he might have been okay with the kiss, he might have looked down at you and kissed you properly. You might have talked last night, fixed things—you’ve never regretted drinking so much in your life.

Things are better tonight at least. You’ve been nursing the same can of cider since you arrived a few hours ago and Heeseung’s only had two sips of his beer, so hopefully, if you get some alone time, the two of you can finally talk. You’re still not sure what you should say, if you should apologise for waiting so long, for leaving in the first place. It seemed like a good idea at the time, applying elsewhere. You didn’t even think you’d get in but you knew you’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t at least take the chance. It seemed like a sign when the acceptance letter reached your inbox before the term had finished, an unconditional offer to a high-ranking university, you couldn’t pass it up. And knowing Heeseung as well as you did, you knew he’d do anything to be by your side when you needed him, you knew he’d drop everything to move with you if you let him. You’d owe him forever. It wouldn’t be fair on either of you.

You called Jay in tears after a month away, telling him you made a mistake, that you needed to come back and had already filled out a transfer application. He convinced you to at least stay until the end of term, to actually make friends with the girls you were living with and see how you felt. A week later, he, Jake and Sunghoon showed up on your doorstep with chocolate and booze, hoping your room was big enough for all of them to stay for the weekend, it wasn’t, not really, but for three nights, the four of you slept head to toe in your bed after eating your body weights in pizza and ice cream. There was no talk of Heeseung, even though you begged them, and by the time they left, you felt much better. At the end of your first year, you quietly submitted your transfer application and shared a tearful goodbye with Yizhuo and Minjeong before finally flying back home. The boys seemed happy to have you back, even if it meant sneaking around to hang out with you—A nudge pulls you out of your thoughts, Heeseung.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

When you look at him, it feels like the wind has been knocked out of you. His eyes are brimmed with concern, wide and beautiful, a deep brown you’ll never get sick of. His lips are curved into a soft pout, a crease running along his brow that you want to smooth out.

Heeseung relaxes a little when you nod, but he seems unconvinced. “You sure?”

You reach up to poke his cheek, grinning when he turns his head, trying to fight a smile. “I’m good,” you say, pressing a dimple into his cheek anyway.

He holds your finger in his hands, unclenching your fist and locking his fingers with yours. A wide grin stretches over your lips as you plead with your cheeks to stop burning. Jake’s hand interrupts the moment, falling from the couch, limp and curled into a fist that smacks the back of your head. He’s fast asleep, not stirring at all even when Heeseung laughs.

Unfortunately, you lose rock, paper, scissors and have to wake Jake up. He shifts a little on the couch when you shake him, whining at you to stop and scrunching up his face at you. Heeseung and Sunghoon eventually sigh, grabbing him by the arms and legs to carry him to bed.

Both boys return, laughing about something and Heeseung sits down next to you again while Sunghoon leans in the doorway, yawning. “You two can have my room,” he says, cutting his eyes at you. “No funny business though, I just changed my sheets.”

You chuckle nervously and Heeseung makes a show of hiding his face in the crook of your neck, much to Sunghoon’s visible dismay. He clutches the doorframe so hard you see his knuckles paling and uses his free hand to point a stern finger in your direction. “I mean it,” is the last thing he says before leaving.

“Sorry,” Heeseung mumbles when the door closes. “It’s just so funny teasing him.” He’s grinning when he lifts his head and runs a shaking hand through his hair. “Anyway, you still haven’t told me about your group project.”

A sigh curls out of you, dramatic and loud as you let your head fall back against the couch at the thought of it. You brought it up in passing on Monday after class and spent the rest of the week pretending it didn’t exist.

“Damn,” he mutters. “That bad?”

You don’t have many friends in your Archaeology class, but you always look forward to it — because you’re covering Ancient Egypt — and enjoy it. But this morning, you slept in, arriving late, to find your lecturer assigning groups for a project weighing 25% of your final grade. She put the groups together based on where people were sitting, which left you, standing in the doorway fighting for breath, being added to a group of boys you shared a seminar with last term. They never contributed, and rarely showed up, constantly sending messages in the class Whatsapp group to ask if anyone had the tutorial answers. The sinking feeling that your project was doomed before it began plagued you throughout the lecture and all the way to lunch with Yunjin afterwards. Even though it doesn’t have anything to do with the story, you tell him in meticulous detail about your time with her that day. Thankfully, you’re sober so don’t admit that you spent a lot of the meal exchanging increasingly ridiculous ideas to get him back.

Heeseung is just as beautiful and good at listening as always, nodding his head and uhm-ing and ah-ing at all the right parts. Until his gaze changes for a split second into something so soft and so sweet that it leaves a mark on your heart. “I was pissed about it earlier, but now I’m here, with you, and I want you to be my boyfriend again,” you say, jaw hanging open as soon as the words come out.

His eyes widen, lips parting in shock. Then his brows furrow, pushing a crease into his forehead.

“I know what you’re going to say and I’m sorry.” You start running damage control and pray that Jake or Sunghoon will wake up and come back. “I really didn’t mean to say that, especially not now when we haven’t talked about everything. But you looked at me, Heeseung. You really looked at me just now and I can’t pretend I don’t want to be with you. I’m sorry, really, but it’s your fault I said that.”

Mortified, you cover your face with your hands. “Can you say something now?” you ask, mumbling into the heels of your palms.

All he says is your name and a pit forms in your stomach. “God, anything but that,” you groan.

Heeseung chuckles, which you think is a good thing. “Would it be better if I called you baby?”

“In what context?”

Holding your breath, you watch as he presses his lips together, humming as he tilts his head. “Term of endearment between a girlfriend and her boyfriend.”

You lift your head, separating your fingers to see him properly through the space and the pit in your stomach dissolves into something live, butterflies fluttering in a frenzy from the look on his face. The gentle curve of his lips, the warmth in his eyes, and the slight flush on his cheeks all make your head spin.

“Really?”

Heeseung nods so hard his hair follows the movement. “Yes, baby.”

“Can we kiss now?”

“Maybe if you move your hands out of the way.”

“I don’t like maybe.”

“Definitely if you move your hands out of the way,” he corrects.

You can’t bring yourself to move, worried that the sudden motion might disrupt something, might knock you out of the moment. Heeseung laughs, so softly it sounds like an exhale, as he takes your wrists in his hands, tugging gently. With your face in full view, his eyes flit over your features for a beat before he cups your cheek in his hand, dragging his thumb over the soft skin of your lips.

You don’t even realise he’s leaning in until his lips touch yours. There’s a rush of something in your chest, an intense warmth surrounding your heart. His lips are softer than ever, gentle as he kisses you like you might break—you think you might. Nothing is better than this, better than having Heeseung’s lips on yours after all this time. You lean into him completely, pressing your body impossibly close to his and twirling your fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I love you,” he whispers, barely pulling away. “I love you so much.”

You can’t bring yourself to reply, emotions too close to the surface, tears too close to spilling. Instead, you smile into the kiss, somehow holding him closer and hoping he’ll understand. He pulls back, just enough to gaze into your eyes with a look of pure affection. He doesn’t press for words, a reassuring smile tugging his lips.

He understands, Heeseung always understands.

Sunghoon’s sheets are soft against your skin when you wake up, tickling your nose with the scent of detergent and Heeseung’s shampoo—fresh and light. Your hand finds its way into his hair, fingers curling around the strands as Heeseung watches you with a soft smile, eyes scanning your features, taking you in. He lets his hand rest on your cheek, thumb stroking the skin there and his eyes flick up to meet yours. You feel like a teenager, a giddy smile gracing your lips, giggles tumbling out at the tickly feeling of lovestruck butterflies rumbling in your stomach. Heeseung beams, nuzzling into the touch of your hand as his eyes flutter shut.

“If we’re going to work out this time—I want us to work out, but we need to talk,” you say after a beat.

Heeseung’s brows raise like he can’t believe what you’re saying, his lips pushing into a pout. “We are going to work out, of course we’re going to work out.” His voice is still raspy from sleep, a deep hoarseness that’s too sexy for the cute way he’s chewing on his lip, doe-eyed and sweet as his eyes scan your face.

“I know, baby, I want that.” You nod, using your hand to push his hair out of his face. It’s so long now it’s starting to cover his eyes, the soft blond strands curling into his eyelashes. “But you have to say no to me, you know? I want you to have a life of your own, we both should.”

“No.”

“No?” You press your eyes shut, sighing. “What do you mean, no?”

“I’m starting now.”

“I’m serious, Hee, this is serious.”

He pouts for a second before nodding. “I’m serious too. I can say no to you, I will say no to you.”

You can’t help your scepticism, raising your brow at him as you inspect his face. There’s nothing about his expression that suggests he’s not being serious, nothing in those huge eyes seeming insincere. But you know Heeseung, you’ve been with Heeseung, and you know better than anyone, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do if it meant spending time with you, so you have to ask. “So from now on, if I text you when you’re in class or out with friends, and I tell you I want to see you, what are you going to do?”

Heeseung sighs. “I’m going to text back and say that I’m.. busy.” His lips curl into a frown. “My heart will be super heavy though.”

“But you’ll do it? You won’t see me until you’re free?”

“I’ll do it, I won’t leave or anything.”

“Do you promise?”

“Yeah, baby, I promise.” When you smile at him, Heeseung leans in to seal his promise with a kiss, his lips meeting yours softly.

You flinch when the door opens and Heeseung chuckles against your lips, but he doesn’t stop kissing you. Over his head, you see Sunghoon standing in the doorway, hair dripping water on the floor with a towel wrapped around his hips.

Sunghoon sighs, loud and dramatic, his head falling back. “I specifically said no funny business,” he mutters. “Quit looking at me.” He comes into the room and lifts the duvet over your heads.

Under the covers, Heeseung pulls away, poking his head out and laughing. “We’re just kissing.”

“Yeah, with your shirt off. Why is your shirt off?”

“She wanted to wear—”

Sunghoon cuts him off with a gasp, pulling the duvet back. “Wait, why are you kissing?”

“I can’t kiss my girlfriend?”

The word makes your cheeks burn and you hide your face in Heeseung’s chest. His lips find the top of your head, kissing you as he wraps his arms around you.

Sunghoon groans at the sight. “I haven’t missed this at all,” he says. “Who else knows?”

“Just you so far.”

You can hear Sunghoon grinning when he drops the duvet back over your heads and shuffles around the room, getting ready for skating. Heeseung calls you cute and holds you closer. “I’ve missed you so much, missed this,” he mumbles into your hair. “I love you.”

Dating Heeseung again is better than anything you could have imagined, even if it has only been two weeks. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more, and even the simple things he does make you smile so hard your face aches. Like when he picks up snacks for you after class or sends you pictures of sweet things he wrote about you in his old diary. Chaewon and Yunjin comment that you seem happier, that you’re glowing, and you can’t help the giggles that always escape and the flush that burns your cheeks when you mention your boyfriend, Heeseung.

Even under the pressure of taking on a group project by yourself, you find yourself fighting a grin in the library just thinking about him. Your class finished an hour ago and you’re doing research in the computer lab while waiting for him so you can go back home together. With a crease in your brow, you try to make sense of conflicting articles on the origin of the Great Pyramid of Giza, happy when your phone lights up with a text.

hee: we should go on a date tonight !!! how does the fair sound?

you: sounds good :D

hee: ❤️

As if sensing that plans have been made without him, Sunghoon sends a message to the group chat asking who wants to go to the Spring Fair in the city centre tonight.

you: hee and i are alr going :/

sunghoon: awesome i can meet u at hee’s in a few hours?

You really can’t find the heart to tell Sunghoon it’s a date so you decide not to say anything, only feeling worse when Jay replies.

jay: sounds good :D

hee: it’s a date dumbass, you’re not invited.

sunghoon: ok.. i can still go

jake: time?

With your date set and whatever else the boys are planning in the group chat, you manage to finish up your work in time for Heeseung to show up with a grin on his face as you pack up your notebook. Excitement stirs in your stomach when he locks his fingers with yours and you’ve never looked forward to the sticky heat of a night in spring as much as you are right now.

“How was class?” you ask, squeezing his hand.

Heeseung grins at you, swinging your hands between your bodies as you weave through tables to leave the library. “Turns out I focus really well when you’re not sitting with me.”

“Oh, really?”

“Mm.” He nods, biting his lip.

“I can sit with other people if it’ll help you focus.”

“No!” he whines, loud enough to draw side eyes from the students around you before the tips of his ears burn red and he pulls you out of the library at lightspeed.

When you reach his flat, Jay’s sitting on the couch grinning at something on his phone, so distracted he doesn’t even realise you’ve arrived until you sit down next to him. He’s got a lot to say about his mock trial and tells you everything, all while you’re cuddled up to Heeseung, with your head on his shoulder.

You blink and the sun’s gone down, Jay isn’t around anymore and Heeseung’s arms are around your waist, holding you close. “Hey,” he says when you stir. “The boys left already, you just looked so cute sleeping that I didn’t want to wake you.”

There’s a wet patch on his sweater where your mouth was that you try to wipe away. It doesn’t budge. And a burning flush attacks your cheeks and neck when Heeseung uses his thumb to wipe some of the drool by your mouth. “So cute.” He chuckles. “Should we get going?”

You spend the whole journey to the city centre with your hand in Heeseung’s, trying to fight the butterflies in your stomach every time he smiles at you. It’s weird. To have been with him for so long, yet still feel giddy when he looks at you. This is new though, you suppose, to live away from home and see him whenever you want. Absence really does make the heart grow fonder and you can’t help the grin on your face at the thought of spending infinite nights like this, with him.

The Spring Fair is alive with laughter and squeals of delight that you can hear from around the corner. Winking lights spill onto the pavement in rapid succession, somehow showing the whole spectrum at once. Heeseung is bursting with excitement, running down the street with you in tow, desperately trying to keep up with his stride and regulate your breathing. His eyes are huge when you reach the gates, scanning the area for the churros he’s been talking about for the entire walk and he gasps when he sees the stall, pulling you along with him. You have to weave through the crowd, dipping and dodging tired locals and excited tourists as you call out apologies to everyone Heeseung bumps into. The first night is always packed like this, so full it’s hard to believe the fair runs for six whole weeks.

You share a heart-shaped churro and pose for the photos he wants to take, your heart swelling with affection as you pretend to be embarrassed when he buys matching character headbands for you both. Two years ago, Heeseung would’ve told you that headbands aren’t a good use of your money and bought them anyway, but today, he spent fifteen minutes trying on and taking photos with each character before finding the perfect pair. You can’t help but grin as he puts the headband on for you, a sense of excitement blooming inside you, so great it’s overwhelming.

Heeseung buys a blue raspberry slushy in an obnoxiously large reusable cup with two straws, and as he clutches his head with each brain freeze, chuckles pour out of you, only increasing when he pouts.

At every opportunity, the two of you take selfies, and the grin on his face in each one warms your heart. He posts his favourite to his story, showing you all the compliments he’s getting in his DMs, all aimed at you. He seems so proud and excited to be with you, and butterflies go mad in your stomach as he reads some of them out to you, agreeing with and adding to the messages.

“You’re so beautiful, baby. I think I might delete the picture,” he says, frowning as the story replies pour in.

The look on his face makes you laugh, struggling to talk but trying anyway. “But I love it.”

Heeseung puts his phone away, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “I love you,” he says, using his free hand to tip your chin towards him. He grins when you say it back, tracing his thumb along your jaw. An odd stillness hits you, in the midst of vibrant chaos. Flashes of multi-coloured LEDs dance in orange and purple strobes over his face and your breath hitches in your throat. His eyes are pretty and wide, flicking from your eyes to your mouth a few times as a flame starts to burn in your stomach, low and scorching.

“I love you,” you repeat, tip-toeing to close the gap.

You kiss him, slow and sweet to savour the sugary taste on his lips as they move against yours. His tongue slips into your mouth, deepening the kiss and the taste of syrupy artificial fruit, leaving you craving more, craving him. A pop goes out in the air and you flinch in Heeseung’s arms. He chuckles against your lips before he pulls away, looking up. Trails of pink and gold paint the sky above, vibrant sparks spreading everywhere as a few more go off. If you weren’t so busy trying to catch your breath, you might appreciate their beauty, but you are and the next pop only startles you too.

Heeseung looks down at you, his slightly swollen lips curving into a grin. “How are you so cute?” he coos. “And don’t most people want fireworks to go off when they kiss someone?”

“It’s probably a sensation thing, Heeseung.” You know it’s a sensation thing. The first time he kissed you, it felt like you were floating on air, as if Sunghoon’s basement, cold and dark, was the most romantic place on Earth. You were sweaty and nervous, sitting cross-legged on the floor next to Heeseung while the boys were sleeping. He was the one to lean in and he kissed the tip of your nose by accident.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters. “Come here.” His voice is so deep and raspy that it spurs the flame on, burning higher, hotter, until it’s the only thing you can think about. His hand finds your jaw again, pulling you towards him to kiss you. Of course, you can’t resist; he’s Heeseung.

The kiss is rife with neediness, whether from you or Heeseung you can’t tell, but you’re tugging at his hair and he’s clutching at your t-shirt, both of you struggling to get enough of the other. You nip at his bottom lip with your teeth and a heady sigh falls from his mouth into yours, brewing a storm in your mind, a thick fog obscuring everything but thoughts of him.

At the sound of a forced throat clearing, you break away from Heeseung, seeing an elderly lady with a steaming cup in her hand and a disgruntled look on her face. She extends an arm, gesturing behind you. When you follow the direction of her hand, you see a bench that you’re standing right in front of. Heeseung grabs your hand, mumbling an apology and tugging you as far away as possible. You struggle to stifle a laugh at the redness of his ears against his hair.

A huge ride swings and spins into the air, catching your attention, though Heeseung seems to be more interested in the way Jake stands by the entrance with a scowl on his face. Jake waves you over when he sees you, grinning and hugging you both like it’s been years since he saw you.

“Jay and Hoon are..” he trails off, using his arm to vaguely gesture towards the sky.

“Man,” Heeseung whispers, pointing a reverent finger to the sky, “R.I.P.”

Countless fireworks shoot up noisily, painting the dark sky, and Heeseung’s arms fall heavily around your shoulders, his body warm against your back. If not for the way Jake’s flinching next to you, covering his ears with his hands and ducking slightly at the bang of each one, it might feel like the two of you are alone in the moment. Alone despite the chatter, the laughter and squeals. Just you and Heeseung.

And Jake.

Heeseung is amazing at fair games, especially the ring toss. But a tired-looking man in a business suit wins the Hello Kitty plush you’d been eyeing for the snotty toddler wrapped around his leg, so you settle for the Kuromi plush instead. Heeseung says it’s cuter. You agree.

His voice is soft when he asks, “Maybe we can go on the Ferris wheel later?” This is a far cry from the boy of sixteen who fainted at an amusement park just from seeing the drop on the biggest ride there. When you look up at him, his eyes are wide, boring into you, holding the stars in his pupils with a grin across his blue-stained lips, and how could you say no to that face?

The platform by the Ferris wheel is sticky under your shoes, making you cringe with every step you take towards the front of the line. Heeseung’s grip on your hand is tighter than you think it’s ever been when he realises that you’re next to get on. This might be the most scared you’ve ever seen him, your poor boyfriend with his overpriced Kuromi headband shivering beside you.

You frown at the sight, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “We don’t have to do this, Hee,” you say.

He tries to play it cool, shrugging with a nonchalance that doesn’t match the fear in his eyes. “I want to,” he assures, though his voice lacks conviction.

“Are you sure?” The way he flinches when the ride operator opens the gate gives you his answer, but Heeseung is firm in his words as he pulls you towards the cart, despite wincing when the operator locks you in. “Baby,” you whisper, touching his cheek. “It’s not too late to get out.”

In what appears to be a display of his bravery, he makes a show of rocking the carriage — only to be told off by the operator (who can’t be older than sixteen) — and cheering (with no conviction) about nothing in particular. You can’t help but laugh, the cart shaking slightly as you let your head fall back and you only laugh harder when Heeseung gasps because of it.

He flinches again when the ride starts moving, an unsettling creak sending you forward just enough to allow the next victims — according to Heeseung — to get on the ride. When the last of them board, the wheel sets off in a slow spin and he spends the entire first rotation with his eyes clamped shut, only opening them after a while when he thinks the ride is over.

The wheel creaks more than what you think is necessary and he only grows more and more outwardly uncomfortable, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth and gripping the safety bar above your laps until his knuckles turn white.

“Would it make you feel better if I held your hand?” you coo, holding your left hand out to him.

He rolls his eyes but takes your hand in his, holding it between his palms. Seemingly at ease, Heeseung shifts slightly in his seat to close the tiny gap between you, pressing his knee into yours.

Even in the distance, the fair’s LED lights are beautiful, melting away into flashing bokeh before your eyes as the carriage inches higher and higher. You almost forget your company, leaning over the edge to get a better look, only for Heeseung to put his arm on your arm, mumbling, “Stop it.”

His skin is warm despite the slight chill that comes with your increasing altitude, and you wish the carriage was smaller—cramped even, forcing the two of you together so tightly that you have no choice but to become one. You sit in the quiet of the night, excitement on the fairground growing quieter as the wheel spins, agonisingly slow, until eventually it’s just the two of you—you and Heeseung: the only people in the moment.

The only people in the world.

“Why are we even on this thing?” you whisper, squeezing his hand.

Heeseung shrugs his shoulders as gently as he can manage so as not to rock the carriage. His eyes are big when he looks at you, holding your gaze intently. “I wanted to be romantic.”

Oh, Heeseung, you think, pressing your lips into a frown. He’s the sweetest person in the world and just the thought of it makes your stomach flutter. “You’re plenty romantic,” you say sincerely.

He scoffs. “Yeah, because pretending you didn’t exist for a year is romantic.”

“Yes! Very!” You chuckle, nodding your head.

Again, he rolls his eyes at you but he uses his hand to hold your face, pulling you in. His kiss tastes like candy floss and the blue raspberry slushy you shared earlier, lips soft, relaxed against your own. Your hand reaches for his thigh, meeting instead with the squished plushy between your bodies and you can’t help but laugh.

With your presentation out of the way, you and the guys are all sitting in Heeseung and Jay’s living room for the first night of Spring break. You’ve just about reached your limit, cuddling into Heeseung’s side with your eyes closed, sleepily listening to the conversation. It’s unintelligible, more laughter and wheezes than anything else.

You shift your way into Heeseung’s lap after a while, moving around to get comfortable. It only takes two movements for him to grab you by the waist, holding you still. You try again, and his lips catch the shell of your ear. “Relax, baby. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you admit, moving around again until he sighs, relieved, you think. A wicked grin spreads over your lips when you feel him getting hard, grinding down on him a little and liking the warmth that spreads in your stomach from having him pressed against you.

“Stop it,” he whispers, kissing the spot behind your ear.

You heed the warning but can’t help the thoughts filling your mind, though you try to ignore them, laughing at something Sunghoon said about Jake’s ugly hat and shoes. Jake doesn’t find it as funny as the rest of you seem to.

Another hour passes by in the same way before the boys stumble into Jay’s room, calling out a slurred goodnight to you and Heeseung on the couch. You stand up first, holding out a hand for him to take and giggling when he presses a kiss to the back of it.

In his room, he stares at a spot on the wall as you close the door, a contemplative look on his face. “Are you okay?” you ask, but he doesn’t look at you, only nodding his head with a crease along his brow.

You kiss him, a featherlight touch of your lips against his. It’s soft for a while, sweet and sincere until he clutches your shirt like his life depends on it. Heeseung’s hands are all over you, stroking and squeezing every part of you he can reach. Overwhelming heat burns your skin under his touch. He inhales sharply through his nose when you reach for his waistband, tugging the drawstring free but he grabs your wrist, stopping you. He keeps kissing you, keeps trying and frowns when you pull away.

“You don’t want this?”

He tilts his head, looking down at you with concern flooding his wide eyes. “Do you think we’re going too fast?” His voice is quiet and he chews on his lip after speaking.

“We’ve been together for six years.”

“A month,” he corrects, looking at his feet.

As badly as you want him, you don’t want him doing anything he’s not ready for, so you wiggle your arm free from his grip, dropping it at your side. He lifts his head to look at you, brows knitted together, the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen. “I don’t want to rush you.”

“It’s not that.” He shakes his head with wide eyes. “I just don’t want us doing anything you’ll regret.”

“I’m not going to regret this, I don’t regret anything we’ve done, Heeseung,” you say, holding his face in your hands.

He closes his eyes, nodding.

“Do you want to stop?”

“Never,” he whispers and the word has you falling to your knees.

It’s hard to see his exact expression in only the dim glow of the streetlights outside, but you can clearly see the way he’s watching you. The way his eyes are lidded as he chews on his bottom lip, watching you reach for the buckle on his belt. Heeseung threads his fingers through your hair, groaning, and for a few seconds, you’re hypnotised. Too wrapped up in tipsiness and lust to move your fingers, completely focused on the way his breath starts to pick up before you’ve even done anything. You’re starting to think it might be enough for him just to see you like this, on your knees for him, wide-eyed and eager.

Whether on purpose or not, Heeseung tugs on your hair gently, pulling you from your trance. His blunt fingernails scratch at the back of your head as you undo his belt, tugging his jeans down. He steps out of them as soon as he can, smiling when you toss them behind you. Too worked up to wait, you push your face against him. You take a minute to hold his covered cock between your lips, shuddering at the feeling of the damp spot at the top of it. Heeseung grunts, bucking his hips. He looks like sin when you lock eyes with him, licking a strip to the top of his waistband, sucking and nipping at the skin and coarse hair there.

“Quit teasing,” he says, still keeping control of his voice.

You blink up at him sweetly, shaking your head. “I’m not,” you mumble, pulling his underwear down.

Heeseung’s dick smacks his stomach with a wet sound that makes you clench around nothing, and you sit back on your heels to admire him. Maybe it’s from time, or your unbearable desire, but he looks bigger, thicker, and much prettier than you remember. When you finally drag your eyes from his dick, you notice a mark on his hip, right above where his thigh starts. It’s a smudge of something dark, inky almost. You furrow your brows, licking the pad of your thumb to try and get rid of it. He practically flinches when you touch it, moving away from you. The increased distance between you and the low lighting only further obscures it—when you rub at the mark it doesn’t budge.

“What is this?”

“It’s nothing,” he says, sitting down on the bed and covering it with his hand.

If it was anyone other than Heeseung, you might have thought it was a tattoo, but you can’t make sense of the thought so it slips your mind as soon as it occurs. You reach for the lamp on his bedside table, flicking it on, losing your breath at the sight of his skin glowing golden in the light, and the tip of his cock is a tempting, glossy red. You can’t help but take him in your hand, stroking him slowly.

“Tell me, baby.”

“It’s a bruise,” he manages through a gasp, licking his lips.

Your thumb swipes over his slit and he crumbles. “Heeseung.”

“Butterfly, it’s a butterfly.”

A fuzzy warmth starts to bloom in your chest, overwhelming you. “Lay down,” you say, voice as soft as it’s ever been.

Heeseung obliges, linking his fingers with yours when you move his hand from his thigh. Under the light, you can see it clearly, dark strokes of ink forming a pretty butterfly, tiny, and heart-achingly familiar.

“Is it..” You trail off, moving your lips around words that you can’t get out as tears sting your eyes. “Did I draw this?” Leaning over him, you get as close as you can, using your finger to trace the shape.

Sitting up on his elbows, he looks down at you with a worried look on his face as he nods. “Do you hate it?”

“I love it.. it’s perfect.” You let go of his hand, using the back of your fingers to wipe at your eyes.

Heeseung sits up, letting his hand cup your cheek and looking at you. He uses his thumb to wipe some of the tears you missed before leaning down and kissing you. His lips move slowly with yours, he’s being gentle, so gentle that you hear your heart thudding in your ears.

“Come sit,” he mumbles against your mouth, helping you up and guiding you into his lap, a whine falling out of him when you sit on his cock and you mumble an apology that you don’t mean.

“When did.. Why did you..”

His shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. “My first birthday I spent without you. I just wanted to have something for you.”

You’ve seen it and you’ve heard it from him, but you still can’t make sense of it. “But you’re.. you’re Heeseung. You’d never get a tattoo, you told me that.”

“I’ll probably never get another tattoo, it hurt like hell,” he says, frowning.

“You’re such a sweetheart.” You cradle his face in your hands, gazing into his eyes, your sweet Heeseung. So different yet so incredibly similar. “You’re, like, obsessed with me.”

There’s a loud adoration in his eyes that makes your stomach turn. “How could I not be?” His smile is wide even though his lips are smushed a little by the way you’re holding his face.

Heeseung tilts his chin towards you so you kiss him, the two of you passing moans and whines between your mouths as you grind on him, his hands gripping your waist under your shirt. He shudders under you, rutting his hips against yours with a groan. He’s harder than ever underneath you, his cock hot between your thighs, pressed up against your core in the most maddening way. It can’t be comfortable for him, the friction from your underwear but he seems like he’s enjoying it just as much as you, maybe more, you think, when he starts throbbing.

Conscious of the boys across the hall, you try your best to be quiet, though Heeseung doesn’t share your concern, his lips parting too wide to keep kissing you and his head falling back as he lets a whine out into the air. His nails dig into your skin, hips speeding up more than you can keep up with as he trembles, clearly so close to the edge that you moan at the sight of him all fucked out in front of you. You chew on your lip, watching his whole face scrunch up before falling to your shoulder, his cum leaking out all over your panties and the tops of your thighs. A grin covers your lips while your pussy aches from the heat of his release and the feeling of his staggered breath hitting your skin. When he finally sits up, sweat slicks the column of his neck and chest, a nervous look in his eyes that he can’t quite bring to meet yours.

“This is j—” Heeseung cuts you off by covering your mouth with his palm.

“I remember. You don’t have to say it, baby, I remember.”

“You were so cute that day,” you say when he moves his hand. Butterflies fill your stomach when you think about it, the first time you ever did anything with each other, with anyone. He was fifteen, with cute round glasses perched on the end of his nose and teeth too big for his mouth, finishing in his jeans with you in his lap.

“You don’t think I’m cute anymore?” he asks, frowning.

“You’re always cute.”

Heeseung grins at your words, so wide and sweet your heart races. He kisses you gently and slips his hand into your underwear, his finger trailing the length of your pussy slowly, groaning into your mouth at how wet you are. You whine into the kiss when he strokes your clit and gasp when he pushes a finger into you easily. Gradually, he adds more fingers, fucking you open on his knuckles and watching as you fall apart.

His lips move from yours, falling to your neck so he can kiss and suck the sensitive skin there. “You feel so good, baby. My sweet girl,” he mumbles, breath searing your skin. The words make you clench, your stomach fluttering relentlessly as he uses his thumb to press on your clit, the pressure enough to make you spiral. It’s all too much too fast and before long, you’re squirming and mewling in Heeseung’s arms, finishing all over his fingers.

Immediately, an excruciating flush burns every inch of your body as you hide your face in his neck to catch your breath. His arms wrap around you and he whispers sweet nothings into your hair while stroking your back.

Ever since that night in his room, all your senses feel heightened when Heeseung is around.

And it doesn’t help that you spend every waking moment with him. Whether in his flat or yours, you’re joined at the hip and it’s near impossible not to pounce on him. In your stomach blooms a heat you haven’t felt in years. An all-consuming flame that makes you hold your breath when he cuddles you; makes you look away when he strips before showering.

He’s taken a liking to shirtlessness, only seeming to remember that the garments exist when he has to leave the house—which isn’t often now that classes have ended. This sudden cotton allergy plagues you, burning the image of his ever-increasing muscle definition and the tattoo on his hip into your memory, so deeply they’re the only things you see when you close your eyes at night.

Even when Heeseung’s being romantic, cooking dinner for the two of you and almost burning his finger with a match while lighting a candle, you’re thinking about him fucking you. When he goes out with the boys and stumbles into your flat, drunk, with a crushed bouquet in his hands, you’re thinking about what might have happened if you’d gone out too. If he’d finger you in the back of a taxi or take you against the door when you got back.

Weeks go by like this until you finally reach your limit.

There’s nothing overtly sexual about the way Heeseung’s sitting. About the way his lashes kiss his cheeks when he blinks, or the way his hair sits in a sleepy mess on his forehead. But it’s Heeseung. So these things existing on him drive you crazy.

Given the lack of privacy in your family homes — by way of an open-door rule when visiting each other — you and Heeseung didn’t have many opportunities to have sex that didn’t involve being tangled around one another in the backseat of his car. And even those occasions were few and far between.

With the only three brain cells that seem to function around your shirtless boyfriend and your head on the doorjamb, you begin to scheme. It doesn’t have to be elaborate—just a way to get Heeseung to fuck you without you having to bring it up.

“What’s up, baby?” he asks, finally looking over at you. His voice pulls you out of your thoughts, with a raspiness to it that makes your thoughts run wild. From head to toe, his eyes drag over your body, his tongue coming out to run over his lips.

Clearly, a very delicate, well-timed conversation is in order and the gears in your mind scrape against each other, turning egregiously as you try to figure out how to start the conversation. “I want you to fuck me,” you blurt out. Not the most delicate approach, but the way Heeseung’s eyes widen suggests you might be on the right track. “I didn’t mean to say that,” you admit sheepishly.

He chuckles deeply in a way you haven’t heard in years. “So you don’t want me to fuck you?” There’s a challenge in his question, evident from his raised brow, the setting aside of his phone, and the way he sits up straight. The movement forces the duvet to slip a little, falling from above his belly button to his hips in one fell — effortlessly sexy — swoop.

In spite of this, you can’t help but roll your eyes at him. How could you be standing there, in nothing but his t-shirt, asking him to fuck you and he’s caught up on semantics? “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“What are you saying?” When you don’t say anything, Heeseung lifts the duvet from his body entirely, grinning when your gaze locks on his hips. His pyjama pants are sitting low enough to show off the waistband of his underwear, and they don’t do anything to hide the way his hard cock pushes against them.

Heeseung towers over you, overwhelming you and the space of the doorframe as his mouth quirks up at one corner. “You want it, baby?” he asks, his voice soft as he cups your face in his hand, using his thumb to trace your lips.

His face dips down to yours and you can’t resist reaching up to kiss him, whining at the contact as you move your lips in sync with his. The sounds he’s making are dizzying, deep groans you feel in your chest. His hand grips your waist, pulling you as close as possible so you can feel him, hard and thick, pressing against you.

You whimper when he pulls away, chasing his kiss, but Heeseung only chuckles. “Say the word and I’m yours,” he whispers, looking down at you with those big eyes.

“I’m not going to beg.”

He smiles sweetly, a soft curve of his lips summoning butterflies. “Suit yourself,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to the base of your neck and leaving the room.

Flustered, you follow him, flinging your arms around his waist and pressing your face into his back. “Okay, I’m going to beg.”

“I’m listening.”

“I need you,” you mumble into his skin.

“You have me.”

Even though his words and the way his lips audibly split into a grin make your heart race, you can’t help your frustration. “Heeseung,” you say, pleading with him.

He frees himself from your grip, turning around. When you look up at him, he’s watching you closely through lidded eyes, his lips parted in a soft pout that makes your heart melt. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close enough to feel him pressing against you. “I’m all yours, baby. What’s up?”

“Why are you torturing me?”

This makes him smile as he shakes his head. “I’m not.”

“Please.”

He brings a hand up to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek and you can’t help but nuzzle into his palm. “Please what?”

“You know what I need and I can’t go any longer without it,” you mumble into his hand. Heeseung only raises a brow and you sigh. Somehow, your want for him is greater than your embarrassment so you sigh, looking him in the eye. “If you want to, please, please, fuck me, Heeseung. Any way you want, baby, just promise me you’ll do it. I need it, need you.”

A shit-eating grin takes over his face as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Was that so hard?” he asks, frowning when you don’t reply. “Don’t get all moody, baby, talk to me.”

Heeseung picks you up, holding you close as you wrap your legs around his waist. Both of his hands are spread over your ass and you’re too embarrassed to say anything, chewing your lip and staring at the little mole on his forehead.

“Need me to fuck you ‘til you can talk again?” There’s a roughness to his voice that makes your cheeks flush, but you can’t help but laugh, head falling back in a fit of cackles.

“What are you talking about?”

His pretty lips come together in a pout before he speaks. “I don’t know.” He shrugs, the tips of his ears burning red as he carries you to his room, using his foot to close the door behind him. “I’m rusty.”

You shake your head before kissing his forehead. “You’re perfect.”

Heeseung sets you down on the bed gently, crawling over you. “I like seeing you in my shirts,” he says, clutching the fabric in his fists, tugging a little.

“Someone has to wear them.”

A breathy laugh falls from his lips. “What?” He tilts his head, leaning away from you to sit back on his heels. “You don’t like seeing me like this?”

It’s hard to find a balance between missing his warmth and looking at his body. Staring at the definition that marks his chest and stomach and the way his muscles stick out over his biceps, you can feel yourself leaking at the sight of him. Your eyes catch on his waistband, on the strip of hair that’s cut off by the start of the fabric before falling to the bulge in his pants.

“You’re looking at me like I’m your next meal,” he mumbles, leaning back over you with a deep flush on his cheeks and neck.

“I think I want you to be.”

“You think?”

You nod eagerly, anticipation swirling in your stomach.

“Anything I can do to make you certain?” Heeseung’s voice is thick with something you think could be enough to make you finish.

“Whatever you want,” you say, desperate.

He chews on his lip, considering you for a while before kissing your cheek. Once more, he sits up, tugging at your waist. “First, I want this shirt out of my way,” he says with a smile.

Immediately, you lean off the bed to let him take it off, tossing it behind him. “Anything else?”

Heeseung’s too busy staring to speak, taking you in hungrily with a jarring combination of lust and adoration behind his eyes. You thought you’d feel shy about him seeing you after so long, but you’ve never felt more comfortable in your life as he reaches down to lock his fingers with yours. He brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing the back of it. “You’re so pretty,” he says against your skin.

There’s no stopping the flutter in your stomach or the smile that spreads over your lips. You tell him you love him and he says it back as he leans back down to kiss you slowly, his tongue licking into your mouth at an agonising pace, a line of saliva connecting you to him when he pulls away.

“I want to get my head between your legs,” he mumbles, letting his hand dip between your spread thighs. “So wet already?” he asks, dragging your slick up to your clit, rubbing it with a featherlight touch that leaves a whine slipping from your lips. “Will you let me?”

You nod.

Heeseung smiles and you match it before he dips his head into the crook of your neck, kissing the skin there for a minute. His breath and wet mouth are hot, burning a trail down to your collarbone and chest, where he gets distracted, pulling one of your nipples between his lips.

Your stomach twists at the sight of him, his pretty, pouty lips sucking and biting at your sensitive skin, the way he’s moaning against you, using his thick fingers to tug and pinch your other breast. It takes him a while to move on but you don’t complain, even when he presses tickly kisses to your stomach.

When he reaches your legs, he gets off the bed, kneels on the floor and hooks his arms around your thighs to pull you towards him. You feel exposed when he uses his thumbs to spread you, staring at your pussy with wide eyes, his lips parted a little until his head falls back with a groan.

“Missed this pussy. Been thinking about it so much, all the time. So beautiful, baby.” He manages to drag his gaze from between your legs to lock eyes with you. “You’re so beautiful, baby.” His lips touch your thighs, kissing the soft skin there, sucking marks into it and biting softly. The sting is subtle but it makes you clench, a movement that isn’t lost on him. “You’re so needy, huh? You want me that bad?” he asks, looking up with a tilted head.

You mumble the word ‘no’ and shake your head. “Need you.” The words come out of their own accord, nothing more than a desperate whine that makes Heeseung press his eyes shut. You watch as he shifts on the floor, leaning in and giving you the attention you deserve.

Heeseung’s nose grazes your slit and you gasp at the sudden contact, flinging your head back into the pillows when he licks a strip from there to your clit, giving it a quick peck.

You card your fingers through his hair, gripping at the strands so hard it must hurt, but he doesn’t seem to mind, going slow despite the way you’re trying to rut against his face. He kisses the spot above your clit, his tongue poking out to lick at the skin there, only hitting the bud a few times and the anticipation is enough to make you spiral.

Time stands still, all concept of it demolished when, finally, he wraps his lips around your swollen clit, running his tongue over it with a pressure that leaves you shaking against the sheets. Moans pour out of you like water from a faucet with nothing but pleasure and Heeseung’s sweet mouth crossing your mind.

It doesn’t seem like he’s ever going to stop, only coming up for air for a brief moment before sticking a finger into you and attaching his mouth to your clit, burying himself in your wetness. The stretch is minimal, barely registering in the waves of pleasure crashing over you, until he adds a second finger, thick and rigid as he works you open for him. By the time his third finger enters, you have to pull him away by his hair, struggling to find the words to say and settling on a whiny cry of his name.

“Hmm?” He looks up at you, face covered in slick that shines on his chin and nose, shoulders rising and falling heavily, but his fingers don’t let up, curling towards your belly button torturously slow.

“Want to cum with you inside.”

Heeseung’s eyes darken and he licks his lips. “Yeah?”

“Uh-huh, and I don’t want you using a condom either, want you to fill me up.”

“Are you sure?”

You nod. “I’m still on the pill and you’re the only person I’ve ever been with.”

Heeseung wastes no time standing up from the floor, watching hungrily as you sigh at the emptiness, moving up on the bed. He uses his fist to pump his cock slowly, sighing when he drags his thumb over his tip. A beat passes before he grins, boyish and handsome while crawling over you again. His face softens and his eyes burn into yours as he cups your cheek in his palm. “You sure about this?”

“I’m sure, Heeseung, you’re all I want,” you whisper, pecking his lips.

“Me too.”

He uses his free hand to reach for his cock, rubbing his tip over your clit and chewing on his lip. He lets his cock split your folds, grinding his length against you, rubbing your cunt with a wet sound that fills the room. Heeseung straightens up and you moan when he spits into his palm, stroking himself before pressing the head of his cock to your entrance. You hold your breath, bracing for the stretch and crying out when he pushes in. His head falls forward with a sigh, his hair tickling your forehead.

“I missed you,” he groans when he bottoms out, his thumb running over your lips. A moan slips out of him when you open your mouth, running your thumb over the pad of his finger and sucking on it. “Missed these pretty lips, this pussy. Don’t know how I got on without it.” His words and the feeling of him inside after so long only make you dizzy, knowing that he wanted you like you wanted him. He watches you with parted lips, rocking his hips tenderly against yours.

“Faster, Hee,” you whisper. “Harder.”

Heeseung’s brows knit together and he slows to a pace that lets you feel single vein and inch of him as he bottoms out before pulling almost all the way out. “Can you take it?” he asks, a jarring tone to his voice that you think is a challenge.

You nod desperately. “Please.”

The word flips a switch for him and he speeds up, thrusting so hard, so deep that your back arches off the bed as his tip nudges your g-spot each time. Just when it all starts to feel too much, Heeseung lifts one of your legs, hitting deeper than he has before and tangling up a knot in your stomach.

“You’re so good, baby, so good for me.” His eyes are dark and lidded, full of all the love in the world as he gazes into yours, a tangible love that overwhelms you, eating you alive along with his praise.

Sweltering heat stretches through every part of your body at the drag of him inside, the push and pull of his cock along your stuttering walls. It’s enough to make you shiver and a cry of his name rips out of you when he starts rubbing your clit again, pushing the bud in slow circles that make you screw your eyes shut.

“That’s it. Cum for me, baby, make a mess,” he whispers and that’s as much as you can take.

Stars flash behind your closed eyes as every single part of your body sets alight, dazed by Heeseung’s whines and the feeling of being full, finally being full, until both ends of the knot tug and tug, leaving you with nothing but a hoarse moan that dies in your throat as your orgasm hits you like a truck.

A lewd squelch accompanies each of his thrusts as they get sloppier and sloppier, losing their rhythm and intensity. It seems like he’s right there with you though when he collapses on top of you, his head falling into the crook of your neck and his moans slipping out like music to your ears.

It’s hard not to fall apart under him, but you try your best, dragging your nails over the toned muscles of his back while telling him you love him over and over until he finishes. Both of you are trembling, fighting for breath and whining as Heeseung sloppily fucks you full of his cum. The sound is downright pornographic, loud and wet as your cum mixes with his for the first time in so long. An inexplicable intimacy so thick it hangs in the air, perching on your shoulders as he looks into your eyes.

Heeseung slows down after a while, stopping completely but not pulling out yet, keeping you full and aching around him. When he catches his breath, he gives you a dreamy smile, thanking you before pressing soft kisses to every part of your face he can reach.

You whine when he pulls out, missing him as soon as he’s gone. Despite your sensitivity, you want to beg him to come back, to slip back into you and stay forever, though Heeseung has other plans. He sits between your legs, dragging a lazy finger up your slit and watching with a smile as cum leaks out. You squirm against the sheets, pushing your head into the pillow when he uses two fingers to push it back in.

“Wish I could keep you full like this forever,” he mumbles absently, curling his fingers.

All you can do is sigh happily. Long minutes go by until he takes his fingers out of you, reaching behind him for his shirt to wipe you up before leaning down to your face, mumbling against your lips to come and shower with him.

You’ve never showered with Heeseung before and a voice in your head tells you to press your cheek against the tile and let him have you again, but you’re way too sleepy for that. The warmth of the water and his big hands roaming your body do nothing to help, only forcing your eyes to fall shut as you lean back against Heeseung’s chest, willing yourself to stay awake.

Once you’re all showered and clean, you only feel sleepier, standing on the plush bath mat in front of the steamed-up mirror. Droplets of water trickle down your skin and you can’t help but revel in the warmth of the room around you. Wrapped snugly in a soft, fluffy towel, you find yourself too tired to follow Heeseung out, slathering some of the expensive moisturiser Jay keeps in the bathroom over your skin. You peer into the mirror, though you don’t see much, and for a moment, it’s just you and the steady trickle of water from the showerhead. The bathroom smells like Heeseung’s minty shower gel and you miss him already, but you take your time anyway, savouring the moment and everything that came before it.

You find him in his room when you’re done, tucking the last corner of a fitted sheet around his mattress.

“You want to nap, baby?” he asks when he sees you, holding out a clean shirt for you to wear.

“Mm,” you hum, nodding your head and dropping the towel so he can put the shirt over your head.

“Let me just fix the pillowcases, yeah?”

You nod, slumping into his desk chair and watching the muscles in his back shift and flex as he moves around the room, dumping the dirty bedding into his laundry basket and slipping the clean linen over his pillows. He pulls the duvet back and pats the mattress, grinning when you shake your head and make grabby hands in his direction,

Heeseung stretches his arms above his head and comes over to you but you stop him before he can pick you up.

“I’m going grocery shopping with Yunjin later and I need a pound for the trolley, do you have any?” you ask through a yawn.

He scratches his chin, thinking about it. “If I do, they’re in my wallet,” he says, reaching for it on the desk and handing it to you before taking a seat on the end of his bed.

When you pull on the zipper to open the coin slot, you find a shiny pound coin and a folded piece of lined paper. You leave the coin where it is and hold the paper between two fingers for him to see. “What’s this?”

Immediately, he hides his face with his hands but you can still see the flush on his ears. You’re not sure what reaction you were expecting, but despite your curiosity, you won’t look at it if he doesn’t want you to. “Sorry, baby,” you say, putting it back. “Forget I asked.”

Heeseung sighs, looking up at you through the gaps in his fingers. “You can look if you want, it’s nothing bad, just mildly humiliating.”

Nervous anticipation settles over your body and you can’t help but laugh a little, feeling your breath catch in your throat when you unfold the crumpled and creased paper. It’s blank. You arch a curious brow at Heeseung, who, though still slightly embarrassed, gestures for you to turn it over.

What meets your eyes on the other side leaves you stunned. There, inked in blue with delicate care yet bearing the natural imperfections of a hand-drawn butterfly, was a familiar image. It’s the very same butterfly you drew in your notebook on a spring date with him four years ago. Your fingers tremble as you trace the lines, your heart racing as you remember how he’d torn it from the page, eyes full of appreciation for the simple drawing.

Tears well up in your eyes when it dawns on you. It’s the very same butterfly he has tattooed on his hip, a permanent reminder of your love that endured separation and time.

Your voice is weak as you look up at him, quivering with emotion. “You kept it after all these years,” you whisper.

Heeseung smiles, his eyes full of love. “I never let go of what matters to me.”

permanent taglist: @asahicore

#heeseung smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen scenarios #heeseung scenarios #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung #lee heeseung x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #heeseung oneshots #heeseung imagines #enhypen hard hours #fic.heeseung

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vividxpages · 4 months ago

Text

𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ᡣ𐭩"guilty as sin?" ᡣ𐭩⋆๋𓂃ִֶָ ๋⋆𓏲𐙚

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 5800

summary: You always thought Jace could not be in love with you, his best friend’s little sister, but a dramatic incident during one of Cregan’s house parties reveals the truth.

warnings: modern au, pining, not so unrequited love, reader is Cregan’s little sister and a huge bookworm, Jace is Cregan’s best friend, fluff and falling in love, angst (mentions of childhood trauma/almost drowning), hurt/comfort, first kiss

a/n: i fought for my life uploading this via my phone, all the formatting from google docs went wooosh haha. Just a little something and different from what I wrote for Jace so far <3 The pool scene is inspired by the Maxton Hall series - if you watched it, you’ll know why ;)

-⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ☁️📖🤍୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Your brother Cregan had met a new friend, during one of his vacations with his boys. Someone had asked the curly haired boy if he wanted to join and just like that, Jacaerys had become Cregan’s friend.

It was easy like that, sometimes.

But when your brother brought Jace over for the first time and you were reading in the living room, deeply lost in your book and not prepared for visitors, things quickly got much more complicated.

He was cute and completely unaware of it as you shook hands and he gave you an adorable smile that made you weak in the knees.

In the beginning, you thought he was like a ghost in your home, only appearing from time to time and briefly, but always leaving goosebumps on your skin when he shyly waved at you. Just his sight alone was enough to make you want to bury your face in your book. You wanted to become his friend, too. Until you wanted to be more than that.

And over the months, their duo became a trio as you joined them more and more often, curled up on your brother’s bed as he and Jace played a video game or going out with them for food or random drives.

You laughed together - it was so so easy to laugh with Jace - and you got to know him better when he told you about his big family and how nice it was to retreat into your quieter family’s house sometimes.

You caught yourself watching him more and more when no one was looking, daydreaming about what it’d be like to be close to him, to kiss his pouty lips and be his girlfriend…

But you were a trio now and you two were only connected by your older brother in the end.

But god, how inevitably you had fallen for Jacaerys, how impossible it was to forget about these desires.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃🥛 ࣪ ִֶָ.

It didn't take long until Jacaerys followed you into your dreams.

When you were sleeping, especially after you had read a couple pages of your favorite romance novels, he came to you, surrounded by smoke and fog. And for only a short lived dream, you could see each other together, doing things you wouldn't dare to think about during the day.

It was maddening and perfect and everything you wanted, but when you woke up, you were alone still.

You stared at the ceiling of your room, sighing deeply. Tucking your favorite stuffed animal, a small wolf with spotted fur, back under your blanket, you slid out of bed, in need of a distraction from fantasizing about kissing your brother's best friend.

You tiptoed down the staircase, silently slipping into the kitchen and feeling around the wall for the lightswitch.

"Don't get scared, I'm here." A soft voice came from the darkness and as you switched the light on, you spotted Jacaerys sitting at the kitchen table.

His hair looked disheveled from sleeping and he wore a long shirt and boxers, sheepishly looking at you with his phone in his hands.

Your hand itched to tuck a loose curl behind his ear for him.

“What are you doing awake?” You whispered, shuffling closer and rubbing your eyes with a yawn.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He smiled warmly at you, shrugging.

“I live here and I wanted a midnight snack.” You gave back. You rarely were alone with Jace lately, he and Cregan seemed to have reached a new stage in their friendship where it wouldn’t have surprised you if your older brother took his favorite Velaryon to the bathroom with him. “Is Cregan snoring?”

Jace chuckled quietly. “No. I just wanted to check my phone in case my cousin Rhaena texted me. My brothers are on a little trip with her and I want to make sure they’re okay and not homesick. They seem fine though, she sent me a picture of them eating ice cream earlier.”

Your chest ached funnily at the way he talked so lovingly about his family. But you knew Cregan’s habit as the oldest son all too well, needing to make sure you were okay all the time and you didn’t miss the way Jace smiled sadly at the picture on his phone after showing it to you.

“I bet they have the most amazing time and can’t wait to tell you all about it once they’re back.” You assured him and before you would have thought twice about it, you reached out and squeezed his shoulder. Your touch lingered, just a little moment too long and your eyes met.

Your breath hitched at his dark eyes on yours, shimmering in the soft kitchen light. You were both barefoot, in your sleeping clothes and your hair was open and uncombed and your heart was way too open for this time of the night.

You heard him exhale softly as you drew your hand back, feeling as if you had burned yourself. But why did you want to throw yourself wholly into his flames then?

“Would you like a chocolate milk?” You offered, the moment between you vanished. “It always helps me get back to sleep again.”

Jace furrowed his brows. “Cregan’s crazy for them too. He told me earlier you’re out of any chocolate milk.”

You grinned knowingly, walking past him and illuminating yourself in the cold light of the open fridge. “Yeah, that’s because he doesn’t suspect me hiding them behind the healthy stuff he avoids.”

Brushing past your yogurts and meal preps for your summer job, you produced two small milk cartons, shaking them victoriously.

Jace grinned at you and it only made you a little bit weak in the knees. "You're brilliant."

"I'm trying to survive with my vacuum cleaner of a hungry brother." You joked and handed him a carton, the two of you content as you began to sip on the sweet chocolate milk.

Under the soft light of the kitchen lamp, Jace and you forgot about time as you shared whispered stories with each other, your drinks soon becoming empty and replaced by new ones.

His gentle and unhurried words were good at calming down your entire body and soon, you felt your eyes drooping.

"I think we should both go back to bed now." Jace whispered. "I told Cregan we'll go play some basketball tomorrow morning and I want to beat him."

You laughed at the thought of your giant of a brother going up against Jacaerys. "Well, good luck to you."

With a tiny yawn, you stood up and smiled at him once again. "Thank you for the conversation, Jace. Sleep well."

"Goodnight." Jace said softly and for a moment, you lingered in the doorway, imagining if you weren't leaving. Imagining the two of you, him with you in his lap, pulling you closer as you kissed.

But you could dream about these things.

With one last smile, you left him, although your heart ached to stay with him for just a little longer.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🍋.

One afternoon, you were reading by the pool in the backyard.

You had just come back after your shift at your holiday job, helping out in a little bookshop downtown, and were now ready to relax all day.

On a small table next to your sun lounger stood a carafe of freshly pressed lemonade and the bookish harvest of the day, ready to be devoured by you until the sun went down.

The garden gate by the house rattled and you looked up, your hands nearly forgetting to put a bookmark between the pages as you spotted Jace letting himself in.

Your mouth went dry at his appearance, dark sunglasses holding back his curls, his white shirt a stark contrast against them. Illuminated by your kitchen lights or the sun itself, it didn't seem to matter for him.

He was so pretty, it almost made you want to look away, but you couldn't. You never could. And wasn’t this the root of the problem?

You swallowed against the dryness in your throat. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He smiled sheepishly at you before he looked up to Cregan’s window. “Cregan is not home yet?”

You shook your head. “Nope. It’s just me right now. Should I tell him you stopped by?”

He scratched his neck, a little helpless. “Um…if it’s okay, I could stay and wait for him? I like spending time with you, too, if that’s alright.”

You wanted to bury your face in your hands and giggle like stupid. You didn’t. “Yes, of course, no worries. Would you like a lemonade?”

Jace gratefully took the glass from your hands, your knuckles brushing against one another. “Thanks. You can continue reading if you want, just act like I’m not here.”

You thought about the steamy chapter you had just begun reading and considered your options. If you read, it was like every character the narrator was in love with became Jace. In your head, you two had already kissed and made love a thousand times like this. If you continued reading those longing and hot scenes with Jace so close to you, you were afraid you’d actually implode.

You watched him closely as he sat down by the edge of the pool, abandoning his shoes so he could dangle his long legs into the water.

The words in front of you melted together on the page, making it impossible to continue reading when he was so close to you.

Shifting on your sunchair, you allowed yourself to simply look at Jace who tilted back his head, closing his eyes against the sun and appreciating the quietness of the backyard. You wanted to go to him and kiss him on the lips. You wanted to go inside and splash very cold water on your face to stop these thoughts from happening.

“You know, I never see you swimming in here.” Jacaerys looked at you curiously, eyes scrunched together a little from the sun and probably the fact he was not wearing his contacts.

You shrugged, a little shy out of the sudden. “I used to, when I was younger. But…not anymore.”

“What happened?” Jace looked at you, curious yet a little worried.You tried to shrug it off, only to realize there was no shame in you when you talked to him. He waited for you, patiently so, but somehow you knew he would’ve let it go if you wanted it.

“We were on vacation once, Cregan, Sara and I, with our parents.” You told him and in your mind you could see the three of you playing together in the garden, your brother giving you a piggyback ride as Sara laughed in delight. “I wanted to go swimming in the morning, but no one was awake yet, so I snuck out. I just couldn’t wait to get into the pool. But I underestimated how deep it was and I couldn’t hold myself up well enough then…Cregan had woken up when he heard me leave and found me. I scared everyone, but I was okay, just coughed up some water and was shocked at my own boldness. Ever since, the pool and I are not really on good terms.”

Jacaerys looked at you, eyes filled with consternation and empathy. “I’m sorry you had an experience like this. That must’ve been very scary.”

You looked at him with surprise, but there were no jokes in him, only sympathy. “It was, but it’s okay. I was…six, I think, so it’s long behind me.”

“This whole pool is a waste if you can’t enjoy it.” Jace tried to lighten the mood and as always, his playful tone lured a smile out of you. A certain sparkle danced through his eyes and you knew whatever came next could not be taken seriously: “What would you like to have instead of it? A garden library maybe, for all your books? Maybe I can convince Cregan to cement the pool shut once your parents are gone next weekend.”

You laughed, a warm rush blossoming through you at the mention of your own little library. He knew how much you read and he had no clue you were seeing him in every love interest of your cheesy romance novels… “I bet my parents would love that and totally not…murder us once they’re back.”

As you laughed together, the small weight on your chest lifted itself and the memory from your story faded again, nothing but a distant thought of the past.

Cregan came home a little later and as he and Jace left to go up into his room, the two of you smiled at each other one last time, as if you were sharing a secret no one knew but you now.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🍿.

It was getting late, but Tuesday was movie night and neither of the three of you wanted to pull out of it first.

Cregan, Jace and you had pushed the couch table to the side and splayed blankets and pillows all over the carpet earlier.

To our feet was the rest of your movie snacks, but only a half-full bowl of popcorn remained which you passed back and forth from time to time.

When Cregan had suddenly not grabbed the bowl from you anymore, you and Jace had shared a knowing look.

Your brother was snoring softly, his head tilted back and arms entwined in front of his broad chest. He was out cold, completely oblivious to the movie still running quietly on the TV screen.

But you and Jace were still awake.

And out of the sudden you realized that you had never sat so close to each other. Your shoulders were almost touching and somewhen, your legs had ended up underneath his blanket, your fuzzy socks brushing against his calf.

You willed your breathing to remain regular, seemingly impassive as you continued to watch the movie, but you simply could not concentrate, not when Jace’s presence so close to you clouded all your senses like this.

The atmosphere was thick with tension and you wondered if all of this was only happening in your mind. You took a deep breath and reached for the popcorn again.

Tiny lightning struck you as your fingers brushed against Jace’s, neither of you pulling back.

You took all your courage and looked up to him, his burning gaze already resting on you. You swallowed thickly, unable to look away and when you felt his thumb brushing over your knuckles, you were sure you were going mad.

It seemed like Jace couldn’t look away either and a full-body shudder went through him when your leg shifted against his.

“You can sleep.” Jace whispered into the darkness, gulping hard. “I’ll switch the TV off later. I…I’ll watch over you.”

I don’t want to sleep. I want you and I’m afraid of what happens to me if I can’t have you.

But you feared your own words and the impact that they might have, destroying everything Jace and you had become over the last couple of months.

What if dreams were safer than reality, where nothing could hurt or disappoint you?

Your head fell softly against Cregan’s shoulder, sweet oblivion already pulling you under at the outlook of his sweet promise to you.

As you drifted asleep, you could’ve sworn there was a featherlight brush over your thigh, four little invisible letters forever imprinted into your soft skin

m…

...i...

…n...

…e

And as he watched your breath evening out, Jacaerys sighed deeply, his head bumping against the cushions of the couch and trying to calm down his pounding heart.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ📖.

The weekend came and Cregan and you watched your parents’ car leave the driveway, your arms slung around each other as you waved at them before they drove out of sight.

Your brother and you were standing together for a moment of silence until you said: “If tonight escalates in any way, I’m telling mom.”

“If you sneak downstairs and drink with the guys, I’m telling dad.”

You snorted, unimpressed. “Please, I’d rather lock myself in my room all weekend long if it means I can avoid your stupid house party.”

Later that day, when it had gotten dark outside and the lawn was plastered with abandoned bikes and a few cars parked nearby, you realized how painfully true you had spoken.

Cregan’s party had been going strong for a while now and you felt like a hermit, hiding upstairs in your room to avoid the chaos that was probably taking place downstairs.

You had curled up by the window with a book, but couldn’t find peace.

Every minute, someone downstairs was calling for a toast or more shots which was celebrated by everyone. Music was blasting through the speakers and you groaned internally at the way the vibrations could be felt through your carpet.

Cregan could only pull this because the neighbors loved him for helping out here and there sometimes and because he always miraculously managed to clean up the house like nothing wild had ever occured here.

When you heard something shatter downstairs, you had enough.

You closed your book and got up.

Sure, you had wanted to stay away from all the fuzz Cregan’s friends made, but this was still your house. You were allowed to move around whenever you wanted.

You muttered the words to yourself as you closed your door behind you, stomping down the staircase Cregan had declared taboo for everyone.

No one really took notice of their host’s little sister as you walked down the hallway, past many guests who were lingering by the walls and chatting with each other.

Making your way past the living room, you could see that the couch table had been pushed back for more space to dance, but the kitchen was relatively empty compared to the rest of the house.

There were multiple open pizza cartons on the counter and you grabbed yourself an extra cheesy slice as you looked around, amazed at how none of these people seemed to care who was walking around here.

All except one.

“I thought you might’ve taken refuge tonight at Baela’s.” Jace said behind you and you turned around with a sigh, smiling at him in playful annoyance.

“I wish I could’ve, but she is not in town as you might know.” You told him, munching on your pizza. “She’s at some bonding activity dinner with her dad.”

Jace hummed knowingly. “I heard. So you had no choice but to suffer the consequences of Cregan’s actions?”

The two of you looked around and you winced when you heard some splashes coming from the backyard, accompanied by some carefree shrieks of delight. Jace bit his lip, a little guilty at your discomfort.

“I’ll come around tomorrow and help him clean everything up.” He offered as a small comfort, his hand itching to rest on your shoulder like you had done to him. “There won’t be a dirty spot, I promise.”

“I know, Jace.” You sighed. “Thank you, truly. Where is my brother, by the way?”

Jace looked flustered to the ground, before smiling at you without teeth. “I think he went somewhere with a girl.”

“Of course he did.” Another loud crash went down outside and something in you snapped. “Okay, I’m going to go outside for a second, I don’t think some of these assholes realize we have neighbors, hold on-”

Jace looked over his shoulder, telling a group nearby to keep it down a little before he followed you.

For just a moment, you disappeared in the crowd and he had no idea which side you had gone for, trying to stand taller to spot you in the garden.

You quickly found the source to all the noisiness.

Three of Cregan’s guests, all boys you had never seen before in your life, were battling themselves for the biggest jump in the pool, splashing everywhere and soaking the pillows on the sun chairs with water.

“Hey.” You stared them down, blocking one of them from taking another leap in the pool. “Could you stop being an ass and jumping into the pool like a maniac? We have neighbors on each side of our backyard and it’s almost midnight, it’s so rude.”

The guy grinned down at you, looking over his shoulders to his smirking friends. “Did you hear that, guys? I think Cregan’s mom just came home, are you the fun police or what?”

You stared at him, irritated at such rude behavior. “I’m just telling you to calm down a little or I’ll kick you out, how’s that?” You might’ve been only Cregan’s little sister, but growing up with a fiercely protective brother like him, you had learned to stand your ground. And you were not scared of an idiot who looked like he had pissed his pants.

“Aww, I think you need a little fun, don’t you think?” He looked down on you, stepping closer until you felt the need to step back. “How about a little cool-off for you, huh?”

And with those words, he abruptly pushed you into the pool and everything went dark around you.

The people who had watched the heated exchange gasped and Jacaerys perked up as he heard nothing but quietness, quickly pushing his way through the crowd.

He came to a sudden stop at the edge of the pool, his eyes flickering back and forth between the guys standing by the edge and the water’s surface, its softening waves quietening down.

But underneath it, illuminated by the night lamps of the pool, he saw you and his eyes widened.

He did not think, did not even hesitate before he jumped into the water after you.

The surprising cold was like a shock to his system, his wet clothes dragging him down to where you floated, your eyes wide open but unseeing as you watched the bubbles around you.

Suddenly, you were six again and you couldn’t move.

You thought you were dying and no one would know, no one would know what you still had to say.

You wanted to kick and scream, to do something goddammit, but you were paralyzed by the sudden overwhelming scare.

Jace blinked and pushed himself forward, icy fear shooting through his veins when you gave no reaction that you had taken any notice of him. But the fear was quickly joined by the rage, anger over you, the most innocent being in this whole house, having been the one who took the most damage tonight...

Jace and you broke through the surface, the air rushing back into your lungs all at once and making you gasp painfully. Disoriented, you clung to Jace's shirt, looking around wildly as he pulled you close and soothed you.

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here, it's okay, love." He murmured near your ear and you felt your body slump, not able to hold yourself up yet.

You felt his hands on your waist and then, with one hand around your back and the other supporting the back of your knees, he walked towards the low end of the pool, carrying you out as if you weighed nothing.

You painfully became aware of how quiet it had gotten around you. Everyone in the garden was looking at you, shocked and a little ashamed that a foul joke like that had escalated into something so serious.

Something ugly and hot burned in your throat and you buried your face in Jace's wet neck, holding on to him for dear life and wishing everyone would just disappear.

A helpless whimper escaped you and Jace held you only tighter. "It's okay, I got you. I won't let anything happen to you, we're almost out."

Both of your clothes hung heavily down your bodies as he left the pool with you, throwing one last deathly glance at the guy who messed with you before he made his way towards the house, still mumbling little sweet nothings in your ear as you tried to regulate your breathing to no avail.

You shivered even as you entered the warm house and simply tried to focus yourself on Jace. He efficiently made his way through your home and before you knew it, he was walking up the taboo staircase, going straight to your room.

You quietly sniffled to yourself, letting him carry you a few more steps before he gently set you down on your bed. He looked around, one hand brushing back his wet hair, and found your fluffy bathrobe hanging by the door.

"Can I?" He asked lowly, his heart aching at your slumped form on the bed. This whole incident had deeply shaken you to the core. "You're going to be cold soon if you don't get out of your…wet clothes."

If the situation had been different, you'd match his fierce blush, but it was like every feeling of shame had vanished from your chest and only left you empty. You nodded silently, taking the bathrobe he handed you before he turned around and faced the door.

You quickly slipped out of your clothes and sighed when you were enveloped by the fluffy robe.

"You can look again…" You told him and he turned around with a shaky exhale.

Normally, his job here was done now. He could go, rejoin the party and find Cregan so he'd kick those guys out.

But Jace could not imagine a single place where he was needed more in this moment than right here, with you.

"Should I make you a tea?" He broke the silence, fidgeting with his hands. When one of his younger brothers was hurting, he'd always make it better with a hug, but you were different, you were so much more-

"Can you just hold me for a while?" You pulled the rope tighter around you, your wet hair still clinging to your neck and cheeks. "Please?"

Maybe the leap into the pool had made you silly. It was bold and daring and you had no right to ask him of this, but your heart had spoken deeply from its core and you found that you did not wish to take the words back.

Jace's gaze softened at your plea. "Of course." He mumbled softly and sat down beside you.

A heavy shudder ran through you as his arms pulled you against him and you gladly fell into his side; letting yourself be held like a small child, your hands clinging to the arm wrapped around you.

You couldn't help yourself when your bottom lip started to wobble again and neither of you had to say it, he knew why this had been so scary to you. You felt his chin rest on your hair and his strong arms around you and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to be comforted by him.

You had dreamed about being held by him, more than you could ever count, but not like this. It was a bittersweet feeling and when you snuggled yourself closer to him, in need for warmth and him, Jace took a deep breath.

"We should find you a towel." He murmured, his lips ghosting over your temple just like his hand had ghosted over your thigh…

You shivered, but not because you were cold anymore.

"I don't want you to get sick."

You nodded, sitting up with him and looking deep into his eyes. He didn't seem like he was able to get up just yet, the two of you lost in each other.

He had jumped into the cold water for you, not even hesitating a second. Your heart brimmed with love for him, nearly as bad as what it felt like to drown. And god, how you wanted to drown in him…

His dark eyes flickered down to your mouth and only now, you realized how close you still were sitting together, the slip of your bathrobe revealing half of your naked thigh to him.

"Jace…" You whispered and prayed all the prelude of wanting him and not being sure if you were allowed to have him was finally over now. "I-"

The door to your room opened and in came Cregan, panting as if he had run upstairs.

"Shit, are you okay?" He rushed to you, kneeling in front of the bed and looking you over in concern. "I was told what happened, I'm so sorry I wasn't there."

"It's okay." You mumbled, not wanting to worry him further. You already had scared Cregan badly enough for one time in your lives. "Jace helped me."

If Cregan noticed that he and you were still linking pinkies, he did not say anything about it. "I threw these fuckers out right away. The party is over."

You blinked at him. "What? You were excited about it all week. You don't have to-"

"Almost everyone is gone already." Cregan tried to smile encouragingly at you, but you could still see the worry in his eyes. "How about you'll change into something dry and I make us a snack? Are you sure you’re okay?"

"I'll leave you two." Jace announced quietly and squeezed your hand once more. "I'll go downstairs and make sure everyone is gone."

For just a moment, you did not want to let go of his hand and your fingers brushed midair before he slipped out of your grasp.

As the door closed behind him and Cregan brought you a towel for your hair, you already missed him like a lost limb.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🌸.

Of course, what had to happen, happened; a few days later, you found yourself sick.

Neither you nor Cregan had told your parents how the party had abruptly ended, a secret deal between the two of you so they wouldn't worry too much about you and they didn't have to punish Cregan for it.

So, your days at the end of summer were spent on the couch downstairs, curled up under a blanket and frequently attended by Cregan who brought you snacks and chocolate milk. It sucked and it was boring since you quickly ran out of books, but it was better than the horrible panic that went through you when you had been thrown into the pool.

On day three though, you had a visitor.

You blinked as steps approached your little sickbed, still a bit sleepy from your afternoon nap and the delicious noodle soup that had been made for you. But to your surprise, Cregan only stood at the staircase, smiling fondly at you before disappearing upstairs, making room for Jace who had waited behind him.

Your heart skipped a beat and a thousand thoughts rushed through your head. When had you showered the last time, did you comb your hair this morning, were you-

"Hey." Jace said softly. "I wanted to see if you were feeling better."

"A little." You smiled at him, sitting up and placing your wolf in your lap as he walked towards you. "You didn't have to come though, I don't want you to get sick."

He brushed your worries away and sat down on the carpet in front of your couch. "I brought you some tea. Raspberry was your favorite, right? And then, I thought you might want some new reading material."

You gasped as he conjured up a big bouquet of wildflowers from behind his back. At the first glance, it was only the most beautiful flower bouquet you had ever seen, but then you spotted a book in the middle of the blossoms.

And then another one.

And another one.

"Jace…" You whispered with wide eyes, shaking your head at him in disbelief. "You made me a flower bouquet with books?"

He bit his lip in flusteration, a pretty pink blush appearing on his cheeks. "Yeah...I went to the bookstore you work at and thought about what you might enjoy. I hope you like them, I kept the receipt just in case and-"

"Jace." You interrupted him and now it was your turn to blush as you pressed the bouquet to your chest, the new books in the middle of it already singing your name. "This is the loveliest thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you, I love it so much. I bet the books you chose are wonderful."

In this moment, it didn't matter to you that you were sick and still a little nasal. The way he smiled up at you, like you were his entire world and his shoulders sagged with relief - your heart screamed at you to finally give in.

Give in to him.

The wrapping paper around your bouquet rustled against your chest as you bent forward and rested a careful hand on Jacaerys' cheek.

He looked up at you with wide puppy eyes, thunderstruck at the tender touch and then you really didn't know anymore who made the first move but it didn't matter, because then-

Your lips touched softly.

It barely was a real kiss, merely the brush of a butterflies' wing against you, but it was all you had longed for for so long.

Neither of you dared to breathe, the moment too soft and fragile to become anything deeper. But you felt him exhale shakingly, his thumb softly holding your chin to keep you close for just a moment longer. It was the softest first kiss you could’ve imagined for yourself.

You leaned back, but only a little, and watched as Jace's eyes blissfully fluttered open, fixing your own wide ones dreamily.

"If I would've known books are the way to your heart, I would've brought you some so much earlier." He confessed breathlessly.

You shook your head, your lips still tingling from this first shy kiss. "You have been in my heart since I first met you."

Jacaerys wanted to melt from the victorious roar his heart let out, a dragon taking flight. "I've been in love with you, too. Ever since Cregan introduced us."

Your hands found their way to each other before you let out a sudden laugh.

"What is it?" He wanted to know.

"I just- I kissed you."

He grinned. "Yeah, you did." And he was in need of a repetition already.

"Jace, you're going to be sick like me." You pointed out guiltily, although it didn't seem too bad to have a companion in your little misery, especially if it was him.

"Oh." He did not look like he had a single care for the consequences of your actions.

"Are you two done yet down there?!" Cregan called from upstairs and when your eyes met, you broke into laughter and your heart blossomed at Jace's happy giggle.

It knew now that he was yours.

And you were his, just as he had once written on your upper thigh…

𓆩♡𓆪

#jace velaryon #jace targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jace targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #hotd

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love-of-the-red-star · 4 months ago

Text

That time I got reincarnated as an Aeon

(Series)

Chapter six: A place to belong

(Unedited, like the rest of the series)

Outer space had always been cold.

Your body didn’t suffer the effects of the temperature, yet you still felt the chill of the void on your skin. The stars and their dusts glowed around you, decorating your space in the most beautiful way that your human self could never dream of.

You thought of your family in your previous life and wondered how they were, if they were alright, if they were eating well and living well.

You also came to realize you weren’t homesick at all.

Materializing in the express and glancing at Welt made you feel a humane sense of relief in knowing you aren’t the only one who wanted to badly convey that you were safe in this new world you resided in.

Unlike Welt though, you don’t have the luxury of ever returning to what once was, or have the choice in having the best of both worlds. Your existence was cemented in this world permanently the moment you became the embodiment of a concept and a being no longer human.

You can’t turn back. It’s a little funny that though you represented freedom, you don’t have the luxury of ever returning to something simpler. You did not have the freedom to return to be the being you once were.

You can emulate human expressions, you can still feel, but you know you’re not really seeing or feeling things the way a human would anymore.

You’re not disturbed by this in the slightest.

You snapped out of your thoughts and walked towards your room then thought of how you’d decorate it— maybe something similar to a bachelor pad? No, Pompom would not be a fan. Maybe something similar to the archives? No, you’d be stealing Dan Heng’s shine.

Then you remembered cozy cabins, quilts, books, all things comfortable and got an idea.

You walked out of your room to seek Pompom and Himeko, ready to lay out your idea in personalizing that little space inside of this train— now that you think of it, it’s more of a house than anything else.

You realized having a home feels comforting more than it ought to be. As an Aeon, your home was the cosmos, the space being your cradle and the nebulas your walls; but the cosmos is hollow and cold, and it did not provide the warmth of the train, or the warmth only humans had.

While you could not go back to being what you were before, you at least had a choice in what your home should be, and what you could do.

“Himeko.” You called out to her, and she turned to you, smiling like you’re a kid that wants her company. “I have ideas to personalize my room, would you be fine if I were to be a bit loud in there for a bit?”

“I don’t mind, though you should ask Dan Heng-“

“I’m fine with it.” Dan Heng answered for her, sitting on a chair and tasting one of her coffee cups— you bit the urge to grimace at the sheer will he had to even drink that.

“Great! I’ll start when we’re on our next stop.” You said with a grin. “Herta got something heavy for us to do right? Leave it to me, think of it as a thank you and a vacation of some sorts.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to burden you.” She sounded cautious almost, even after more than eight years.

“It won’t be much. Besides, you do own this train, think of it as a courtesy— like a tenant paying rent.” You stated, “I shared this space with you for more than eight years now and I’m modifying an area to my liking, it’s only fair if you get something in return in exchange right?”

Her eyes widened, seemingly surprised. She parted her lips, as if wanting to say something but you gently shushed her, knowing what it is she wanted to say. You’ve already given your protection and blessing to the express— you didn’t even need to help, but you want to.

“[Name].” She sighed fondly. “You can do as you wish, you don’t need permission from me or anyone else.”

“Oh, isn’t asking permission how things work in a shared space though?” You tilted your head, frowning. “I know I’ve done pretty unsavory things outside of this train,” you twirled a strand of your hair, looking away as you felt Dan Heng’s questioning stare on you. “But I don’t mind having to go back and forth with this every time I want to do something inside of it. it’d be unfair for everyone here if I don’t consider their feelings in the matter, or warning them ahead of time to what I will be doing.”

“Ah, I see.” She said, nodding to let you know she understood your point with a relieved and fond smile on her face. “Very well then. I’ll tell Welt you’ll be going to fetch the materials Herta asked for on your own.”

“We’ll have fun next time I promise— ugh if only Void was dead so I could use his body.” That sounded wrong, but soulium is great to use for whatever reason— be it a weapon, a snowboard, or a pan. “Hey uh before we land…. please tell Welt that (Censored).”

With those words, you left, disintegrating from the activation of a space anchor as you saw the planet where the materials on Herta’s list were particularly abundant.

Dan Heng for once looked a little horrified, Himeko however could only sigh at your antics.

What even was your suggestion? Well, it involves using Void as a snowboard, and using his “son” as the brakes.

Those words would be horrifying enough to hear if you were a man.

“Don’t worry, they won’t do that to you.” Himeko said in an attempt to reassure him. Although it worked, the words still rang through his head.

———————————

As you hummed and gathered the materials after killing a couple of Nanook’s children, you heard bells, then giggling.

You sighed. “You’re not very subtle in showing your amusement for the shit I do you know?”

You could feel them smiling, before multitudes of masks enter your vision and the sound of party balloons fill the space at the corner of your eyes.

The Elation morphs into a human-like shape like you, and you’re not surprised to find out whose form they took.

Familiar green eyes, and dark hair. Of course it would be Belobog’s conman this time— the last time Aha had showed themselves to you they took on the form of Hanabi when you were in some planet with Boothill some years ago.

“Of course! It’s rude to greet a friend without announcing my presence.” They grinned, their smile stretching a little wider than what a normal human could smile. You think this would have utterly creeped you out had you been a human.

“Good to see you again, Aha.” You said.

“And you are still the same old you.” They poked your nose. “What fun are you going to pull next I wonder?” They jeered.

“None of your business— I didn’t think you cared. I was under the assumption that as long as you are elated, then all is well.” Aha laughed at your intentional wording, slapping their knee as they wheezed too loudly.

“This is why you are my good friend.” They pinched your cheeks. “To think you’d offer all sides of a theater just like this, did you enjoy it when you were behind the safety of your screen too?”

What the fuck.

“What do you mean by that?” You innocently prodded, Aha merely kept their grin wide like a Cheshire Cat, their form morphing into something.. wrong, off, inelegant and disproportionate if you looked closer.

“Oh you know well what I am talking about, Little Libertas.” They said. “A reborn Aeon from a realm none of us can reach, how amusing indeed.” their eyes widened, pupils blown as they confirmed your suspicion. Aha had no reason to speak of lies to you for they were not human.

“Ugh.” You groaned. “Of course you’d break the fourth wall.” You said softly as you went back to picking up the materials with ease.

“Yet you still laugh whenever I rickroll you.”

“Fair.”

Aha hummed, their features returning back to normal seeing as it didn’t get a reaction out of you as they wanted.

“I would like to watch you more.” They said to you. “You are amusing.”

You made a face, and they laughed as they slowly but surely disappeared.

“Until next time little friend.”

You sighed, looking at the materials inside of the sack before dragging it with you and walking to a space anchor.

You still have a room to renovate after all.

—————————-

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII (HERE), Part VIII, …….

Interludes: one, two…..

I’m still navigating on how I could properly write this fic, so when I eventually edit it please expect minor or major changes to how things would function because we know HSR lore isn’t that concrete yet.

I would also like to thank everyone for their love and support for this series, I love everyone’s praises towards this— I was initially hesitant to publish it, but I’m glad I did.

See you on the next installation!

#aeon reader #himeko x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #reader insert #welt yang x reader #yaoshi x reader #boothill x reader #aventurine x reader #honkai star rail #aha hsr #Aha x reader #aeons x reader

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inkskinned · 2 years ago

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oh you know it's all latestage capitalism but the thing is. how are you supposed to be a person inside of this. a person trying to be a better version of yourself.

oh, you started working young, which was kind of hard, but it's just the way stuff works sometimes. and it was 2008 and your family couldn't afford heat. but it's fine, you grow a spine and get used to the professional world and besides it was the suburbs we're talking about here, like, your life could have been actually hard, so what if your father lost his job and you can't afford to move or turn the lights back on. and once you start making money, it's good. you keep doing that. because now they're relying on you. so you have to do that.

oh you were in thousands of dollars of debt at 17 years old so that you could go to school, because you have to go to school if you want to get a "real" job. you even did it "right", you worked parttime and attended community college before you transferred to a public school. you were under so many merit scholarships.

which is fine. you pick yourself up and you say like, okay. i graduated college. i'm holding down a job. i'm doing the Adult Thing, which looks and acts like this, according to all the books i've read. you start with the shitty job and then you climb that corporate ladder.

but the shitty job doesn't cover rent and you stretch yourself too-thin so you get sick. good luck with that. the shitty job no longer pays for your meals. everyone asks why you don't just move, but there's nowhere to move to. and with what money are you going to be moving? and then the loans come back, because they were never going to forgive them, because you were 17 and trying to do the right thing, which was stupid. people are now saying you shouldn't have even gone to school.

which is fine. but because you have no other option, so you do the shitty job, and you apply every day for like 5 new ones, and despite the fact everyone says "there's no one who wants to work!" it's actually just that nobody is fucking hiring so you can either work for 13 dollars an hour in the shitty place you know (where at least you have a passingly friendly relationship with the manager) or you can start from scratch again with a different 13 dollars an hour without knowing how much abuse from the new job you'll be taking.

and if you quit you lose your insurance. if you quit you lose your housing. if you quit, you'll be another burnout kid. the lazy ones. these assholes, look at them!

and you come home to a family dinner and you hear from your father the same old thing. how he worked hard at his job and yes it sucked for a while but he was able to provide for the family and then the house and the dog and the rest of barbie's dream vacation. how the insurance did cover some of it. how you just really need to start speaking up more in manager conversations so they know you're a go-getter. you want to tell him - did you know we're actually doing more now hourly than any previous generation? - but you can't remember where you heard that statistic, and you're far too tired for the fucking argument. and then he starts in on his usual bit. where's the house? where's your kids? where's your ambition.

the same job the same money the same hours doesn't do it anymore. the same nose-to-the-grindstone now just shreds your face off. there's no such thing as upwards mobility, not really. and as far as you're aware, the money certainly is not trickling. you do the soulless stupid shit you signed up for because you fucking have to or else you literally risk your life (food, the apartment, the insurance), but it's not getting you anything. you download the stupid "save more" app and you budget and you do every right thing and then the price of eggs is 7 dollars and you say - oh great! another thing i have to fucking worry about now!

and you go to your stupid job and everyone in your father's generation just tells you to be better about being an adult. they have their homes and their savings account and their bailout and they say. well have you tried not drinking starbucks. well your generation just spends too much on clothing. well you might just be too addicted to travelling. and you - because you need the job - you bite your tongue and don't say i am being held prisoner and you're suggesting i stop pacing my cell if i don't like the scenery and you don't say what the fuck do you think i've been doing with my money and you don't say i haven't spent a cent on something nice in literally forever much less coffee you arrogant asshole. you open and close your bank app and check your loans and check your credit score and check fucking zillow and ziprecruiter and apartments.com just one time more. and still they give you that demeaning little grin and say - see, what you need is -

what you need is for your meds to stop being so fucking expensive. what you need is for the housing bubble to explode into dust. what you need is for billionaires to choke on their wealth. what you need is actual help. what you will get is more economic advice from people who are older-and-wiser.

and above you, almost in a glimmer, you can see the wedged smile of your debt getting toothier, wider.

#i hate when people try to tell me i didn't do it right #what should i have done better #i did it ALL the right way #(not that there is a right way)#it's just that others feel comfortable believing that THEY did it the right way and that's how they made money #whereas i must have just committed a sin somewhere in there! i MUST be doing it wrong!!!#and i'm not a victim!!! im simply experiencing consequences!#and im like. where . where. wherewherewherewhere #i graduated top of my class. i was almost the student speaker.#i have always excelled at work and i work hard #i have been working since i was 13 #WHERE !!!!! IS MY FUCKING !!!! MONEY!!!!!!#ps please do not make the assumption i am ablebodied or neurotypical.#i am neither of these things.#it DOES get worse if u are either of those things. so fuckin much #but @ the one anon who was like ''u could be X that would be worse u don't know how lucky u are''#.... don't i?#do i need to be luckier than someone else #or is it possible we are BOTH victims?#and that we need to work TOGETHER to resolve it #not just wave it off since it COULD be harder for someone else... it can be true we BOTH deserve better

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yanderestarangel · 1 year ago

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⋆ 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍!𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀 ⋆

A/N: He's back bitches, DADDY MIGUEL O'HARA.

SYNOPSIS: Miguel is a 45-year-old man who works in a local library, also giving tutoring classes in literature to the local village community, you decide to go visit him after being on vacation, awakening a side of himself that Miguel didn't know.

TW: Yandere themes, age gap, afab anatomy, betrayal, dark themes, threats, manipulation, smut, au.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA -He leads a peaceful life, always opening the library at 9 am and closing at 9 pm, sometimes staying overtime to look at the landscape outside the large windows, to try to forget his failed marriage with his wife.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who has the same patterns every day, namely: taking both children to school by car, buying the same fruits to eat throughout the day - a few dates, an apple and a bottle of coffee aluminum portable, hot and sugar-free in the dark green side pouch he carries everything he needs for that day -

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - What you see in a boring life, everything was the same, he worked out, went for walks on the weekends, watched the same period films after 11pm, in the same leather armchair that got hot in the uncomfortable summer heat, drinking the same beer while the black and white images of the Hollywood film passed through the lens of his glasses, while he smelled the cold food made by his wife, who as always, had left the children with him and gone out.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who woke up late that day due to the hangover from the several beers he had on Sunday, rushing to drop his children off at school and avoid an argument with his wife early in the morning. He calmly went to the library, after all, there was no one there at that end of the world. But he was wrong. He soon saw you, sitting on the steps of the cold concrete stairs while waiting for someone to open the library, he had never seen you in the community, so it was a surprise for him to see someone so beautiful and different from the routine faces in the village. Miguel got out of the car, adjusting his round glasses, giving you a polite "good morning", his strong accent mixed with the smell of coffee coming from his lips, he opened the library while looking you up and down, he would casually ask you your name and what you do there. You spoke your reasons politely, while explaining that you were on vacation and decided to visit the tourist attractions of that village, such as the lighthouse and rough sea, as well as the large library, which, in addition to needing some literature classes, you two were taking Miguel O'Hara nods and gives a practically invisible sideways shy smile.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who gets excited like a young man when he sees you interested in literature, Miguel would make a point of giving you some books as a gift, explaining about each one, especially if you like gothic literature, such as: Bram Stocker, Marion Zimmer Bradley, Edgar Allan Poe, Bram Stocker - or horror stories, he automatically falls in love if you, speaking excerpts from his favorite stories while pouring you some coffee, sitting in front of him while the two of you did a literary duo circle, the voices echoing through the ancient wood.

"-With a long scrutinizing look at the shadow, which frightens me, which haunts me, And I dream of what no mortal has ever dreamed of, But the vast and silent silence, silent remains; the quiet stillness." -O'Hara reads with a strong, hoarse accent, his voice was raw, reverberating his passion for each verse and word he spoke, holding the book in his thick fingers, now, with the abandonment of the wedding ring he wore, even though he was still married, you didn't need to know that detail.

"-Only you, unique and beloved word, Lenora, you, like a scarce sigh, leave my sad mouth; And the echo, which heard you, whispered to you in space; It was just that, nothing more." -You completed, reading your part in the tale of "The Crow" while feeling the older man's gauze on your body, while Salvatore's hands massaged your bare shoulder, lightly adjusting the clothes you wore, a long and possessive touch.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who offers you a ride home, turning on the radio while asking you everything about yourself, if you were dating, if you had traveled with someone, he expected you to be totally alone, totally for him. Miguel drops you off at home while he says a quick goodbye, but he actually just hides the car in the middle of some trees, looking out your windows, writing down your nighttime habits in a diary - he got home later that night, his wife noticed the delay, but he just made up an excuse, mostly lying that he had lost the ring in a library cleaning, which was a lie, he got rid of the ring in the sea, near the local town port -

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who studied everything about you on the days you two were alone in the library, becomes his refuge. Don't get him wrong, O'Hara loves his children, but he hates coming home and seeing that his marriage is a failure, and that the woman he was once so in love with, young days that passed through his life in long ago, Now she's just a strange and cold woman, but you? You are his treasure, always happy, smiling sweetly, asking if he is okay, or if he has eaten that day, if he needs help with something in his work as a librarian, you are so angelic, so beautiful, so his. You're totally his, aren't you?

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who lies to you about his private life, saying that his wife and he are divorced and he just lets her live close to the children, he lies so naturally that even he himself believes in the madness of his mind.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA- Who finds an excuse to leave you up late with him in the library, telling you about some more books, and giving you a letter, letters that were always sealed in luxurious black paper like an envelope, with a red coat of arms with an 'M' for Miguel, big in the center, he always asked you to open it at home, they were poems and poetry written by him, about you, but each time, with each letter given to you, they became darker, more intense, more... Intimate.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Which makes you sit on his muscular legs that night in the peace of the library, while his big, calloused hands lightly run over your thighs, while he praises you. "-Your skin is soft like the finest and purest silk, your lips are full and shiny with life, your smile is like the epitome of beauty, I look at you and see an angel, not even the richest kings who had harems with several women And men, none of them come close to your beauty, mi angelito, did you know that? Your heart is so pure and beautiful, your soul is practically eradicated from your carnal being." -Miguel spoke hoarsely, as he forced you to look at him, his eyes shone, not only with enlightenment but with love, a sick love for you.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA -He fingers you slowly and lightly, giving you kisses on the head, feeling the smell and softness of your hair, his fingers enter and curve slightly, he was an expert in that, he wanted to make you come, to make you see the stars in the sky pleasure he could give you. Miguel praises you even more when he sees you moaning so beautifully, writhing in his lap, while he whispers in your ear how well you do it, being such a good girl/boy for him, giving yourself to him like that, like you It's beautiful when your pussy tightens around his fingers, how perfect you are when you let your sweet saliva run down your lips like that, while he gives you all the pleasure, making you squirm on his arm full of veins and scars from the time he had, dirtying the papers and reports he signed, but he doesn't fight with you, no my sweet girl/boy, you are his, Miguel just applies a chaste kiss to your temple, salty with the sweat of sexual effort and the heat of lust from your body, while he just said everything was going to be okay.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - Who was worried when you didn't show up after a few days, so he left work early, seeing you at a local fair. He tried to talk to you, but you were disappointed in him, you had found out he was married, and you felt dirty for giving yourself to him. Miguel O'Hara froze immediately, but he soon recovered his posture, telling you in a serious and cold air that she didn't mean anything to him and you did, but you didn't want to listen, just saying how rubbish he was as a human being and leaving the room. running, hiding in the crowd, he didn't go after you, just walking away with a neutral and serious air, thinking about the next step he would take, and he knew exactly what it would be. He spent every day at your house, placing flowers, chocolates, teddy bears, gifts and books on your doorstep, even if you threw them in the trash, he bought more and more, even more expensive and extravagant. Miguel didn't leave you alone, going to your house every day, even trying to knock on the window, but you didn't pay attention to him, but he didn't care, he wasn't going to give up, he stopped the car every day after his shift from work to look at you,or look at the lighting in your house, where you were, what you were doing, and who you were with.

YANDERE DILF LIBRARIAN!MIGUEL O'HARA - That on your last day in the village, he left you a letter, in a red envelope, you didn't want to read it, but your curiosity got the better of you, with you finally reading the content of the man's letter.

My dear, (Y/N) This may sound strange, but I like it when you hide like a scared little bunny, running away from me like that, as if I were a predator? so I am offended my dear. Do you know how far I'm willing to go for you? Do you know exactly what things I can do to try? Do you know the dark thoughts I can carry out with your friends or family? If you gave in. We would be even more than perfect together, we were born to be each other's my love. Just as the sun rises day after day, just as the moon appears in the dead of night. Just as the stars shine in the black sky of the dark and cold night, void of voice. Just as birds spend their lungs in a melodious song, unable to be stopped by foolish men. Just like every natural phenomenon and incapable of being stopped, I will make you mine. just mine. You can try to scream, try to escape or even ignore me, like a mirror covered with a fine linen fabric, I'm still there, watching you, attentive to your smallest details, your flaws, your sins, your darkest, hidden fears. inside your mind, the intimate and core of your most secret suffering... I know everything, I know you more than you know yourself. We are destined to be one, drawn by a happy and unhappy destiny, a piece of the gods perhaps, who are we to question love? In fact, I'll ask you one more time, you love me, right? Just try to say you don't love me... Then I will destroy you... I k-

You didn't even finish reading the letter, hearing heavy footsteps coming from the back door, while you saw a tall figure standing in the dark shadow of the hallway, something dripping on the floor while those familiar and maddened brown eyes stared at you, deep in your soul, Miguel O'Hara.

"-And you know, (Y/N)... you shouldn't leave the door open."

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

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gyllenhaalstories · 4 months ago

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BODIES IN THE SAND — ELWOOD DALTON 🎂

summary: it’s your birthday and dalton wanted to make it special.

warnings: eating, mostly fluff & smut (making out, thigh riding). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2730

gifs credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: today is my birthday and i am, for the fourth year in a row, making it everyone’s problem with a (very boring) self indulgent fic. 🎈 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

The dock master waved at you when you passed by. You did not leave him enough time to repeat his speech about watching out for the damn crocs like a broken record. You had visited the Glass Key Marina so many times since meeting Dalton, one could think the old man would spare you the lecture. Whatever. This time, you ignored him. You stormed towards the wooden pier on a mission.

Dalton, now confident in Billy and Reef's abilities to handle the unruly patrons on their own (if they remembered to lift with their knees), allowed himself a night off from time to time. The pay as the bouncer of the roadhouse supported him plenty anyway. He did not splurge much, judging by the fishing box overflowing with stacks of cash. When he did spend his money, he would buy all the books Charlie recommended to him or he would treat you to his new favourite food, conch chowder.

You were usually the first person to know about his sporadic vacations, except for today. You drove to the roadhouse and Laura greeted you with a perplexed smile as to why you were there without Dalton. Frankie walked down the stairs from her office and expressed the same level of confusion. "Dalton called, said he's sick. I think the boat dreams are getting to him. Took him long enough." She explained before helping her employees to get the bar ready for another night. Dalton, sick? You stormed out of the bar with the same determination that made you beeline to The Boat.

"There you are." Dalton, who sat on the railing of the boat, stood up and turned around to greet you. The look on your face, painted with surprise, satisfied him, it was worth spending the entire afternoon decorating his corner of the marina. "Happy birthday."

You stood on a creaky wood plank and took in the scene. Orange balloons matched the colours of the sky as the early sunset reflected on the water. There were garlands and streamers, basically anything that could make the dock look festive. You scoffed at the Happy Thanksgiving banner attached to the back of the boat that clashed with the rest.

Dalton quickly justified. "I know... 'Was all Charlie could find." He worked on the ribbon of the balloon he had previously secured on the railing and held on it tight. He raised his leg to get off the boat, but you interrupted.

"I appreciate the thought. This looks so..." You spun on your heels and admired the decorations for a few more seconds. "This looks really nice. But that still won't get me to climb on that thing. It's literally sinking." You pointed at the rusty boat that the dock master constantly referred to as a frying pan. You wholeheartedly agreed with the older man.

"It's not sinking." He leaped from the boat to the dock. The tone of his voice failed to convince you. "... Yet." You both nodded in agreement. Not yet. Soon enough, Dalton would be taking a nap with the crocodile.

You let him come to you.

He tilted his head, eyes squinting at you. "You know, those little footsteps of yours sounded furious. Everything okay?" He clenched his jaw, already bracing up for bad news. It was all he seemed to attract: bad news.

"I should be asking you! Are you okay? I went to the bar and Frankie said you were sick."

"I don't get sick." He shook his head lightly.

"Then why did she tell me that?"

"Oh, I asked her to." He marked a pause, as if that was enough information. You pressed him to grant you with more details. "I thought it was a good excuse." There was a hint of pride in his grin.

"A good excuse that worried me a lot." Your attempt at reprimanding him failed miserably, especially when his grin widened while he stepped closer to you.

Dalton carefully tied the ribbon of the balloon around your right wrist. He then flicked the balloon, watching it bop. "Charlie and I have been planning this for a little while. Couldn't find a proper banner in time." His chin pointed at the Thanksgiving wishes.

"You can say something cheesy to make up for it." You suggested with a chuckle.

"I'm thankful that you're born?" Although he said it like a question, he was certain in the sincerity behind his words.

"That does the job." You both exchanged a moment of laughter. "Thank you for taking the time to decorate for my birthday."

"There's more." He guided you off the dock and through the makeshift path to the beach, always hovering a hand over your lower back to make sure he would be quick to react if you fell.

You let Dalton walk by the shore. Although you did not mind feeling the water run over your feet and ankles, he had insisted enough times that it was safer for you to stay on the other side. So you just let him do what he wanted. Your hand brushed over his a few times and you caught sight of the smirk on his lips.

He also noticed your head was turned towards the water so he pulled you to stand in front of him. He lost no time to hold your hand when you reached behind to grab his. Dalton mouthed a quiet wow when he took in just how beautiful you looked with the pink sunset sky.

Things were simple with Dalton. He did not talk much about what lead him to Glass Key, but you learned enough snippets of his life to know he wanted things to remain this way: simple. He liked the way you weaved yourself through the routine he built since working at the roadhouse. You'd visit before work, at work, after... You would hang out at the bookstore with Charlie, you would sit by the bar with Laura. It all felt simple. He did not hide his appreciation for the time you shared. He showed honesty in his intentions with you when a kiss turned into a lot more one too many times. Plenty of whispered praises, plenty of love filled gazes. You took it one day at a time with Dalton. And today was a special day in more ways than one.

Dalton bumped against you when you stopped walking abruptly at the sight of the makeshift picnic set up. Beach towels laid on the sand and held in place by a bunch of rocks and a pretty conch shell. It looked a little funky but he knew you could not care less. "After my first shift at the bar, Frankie told me this whole sales pitch about the place." He let go of your hand so you could wander towards the beach towels. "She said this was a beautiful spot to have a drink with someone special." Frankie was talking about the roadhouse, not the beach at the back of the marina but... It was close enough.

"She must be right." You sat down on the towel, Dalton joined you. He attempted to say something else, but the balloon floating in the evening breeze distracted him. You watched him intently as he untied the ribbon from your wrist and attached it to the handle of the cooler.

You exchanged a smile and enjoyed more of the sunset. You wondered to yourself how people could live in a beautiful place such as this and forget to pay attention. How could someone get used to a view like this? You certainly could never. You knew Dalton felt the same.

And Dalton knew what you were thinking about. He had travelled quite a bit, both for work and to escape it. He faced the same reflection time after time. "I don't know." He broke the silence, answering your unspoken question. "Maybe they don't have the right person by their side to remind them to appreciate the moment."

"I like the sound of that." You shifted closer to him and his hand slid along your lower back to find its place on your hip. "It's romantic."

"Wait 'til you hear about what I baked for your birthday..." He let out a small grunt when he stretched his arm towards the cooler to pull it closer.

"You can bake?"

"Nope." He opened the cooler and tilted in your direction. "But Charlie can." Kind of. He let you take a peak inside to admire the cupcakes that he prepared with the teenager and with Stephen on supervision duty.

You found it so endearing how he formed a bond with Charlie. Dalton even grew to like her comparisons to western novels and cowboy boots wearing broody heroes. You leaned in to admire the desserts and chuckled at the sight. "They're all squished."

"Shit." Dalton whispered at the sight of the dozen of misshapen cupcakes. He pulled out the tray and set it on the beach towel. He selected one that sort of held its shape during the transport from Charlie and Stephen's house to the beach. "I swear, I frosted them all nice for you." He grinned apologetically.

You grabbed the cupcake from his hand and took a bite. You swallowed thickly and tried to contain a funny face. "These are..."

"Burnt as hell." He stole a bite from the same cupcake and grimaced. He looked down at the rest of the desserts and began to explain that he was sorry, that he really tried to make your birthday special.

You interrupted him with a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "There was frosting." It was not entirely false, but you hoped this would stop the train of thoughts.

He still looked unsure, he worried that he had messed up.

So you kissed him again, on the same spot. You would usually let him lead and make the the first move so he would not feel trapped, but you wanted to reassure him. "Spending time with you is a nice gift on its own. So this?" You gestured around you. "This is great. And this." You held his head in your hands for a few moments, waiting for his lips to curl into a smile. "It's all I need to have a good time."

The smile stayed glued on his face even when you pulled away. You reached for the cupcake again and Dalton took it from your hand to put it back on the tray, slamming the cooler shut for good.

"You can't waste the cupcakes, you worked so hard to bake them for me." You would have eaten a couple of the sweets had he not stopped you, you wanted Dalton to know you liked the gesture.

"Then the crocodile can have them." You nodded, agreeing with his idea.

"Maybe he'll spare you for another night."

The sound of yours and Dalton's laughter blended together as one. "That's exactly what I was thinking." He replied.

"I know I just said I'm having a good time, but..." You crawled to kneel between his legs. You sat back, keeping a safe distance to let Dalton decide. "We can make it even better."

He considered the implications of your offer. Now, he felt like he was the one being celebrated. You were a real treat, kneeling before him with a gaze he had seen many times before. You wanted more... You wanted him. Dalton leaned in, glancing between your eyes and your lips.

You let him come closer until your mouths met in a gentle kiss, mirroring what you did moments ago.

His nose brushed against yours while he left you longing for another kiss. The small nod of his head told you everything you needed to know.

You erased the distance completely and kissed him again with your head tilted to the side.

Dalton's fingertips caressed along your arms and guided you to wrap them around his neck. He deepened the kiss when he felt one of your hands cradling the back of his head.

You hummed when his hands began to explore your body. The gentle touching up and down your back grew in eagerness.

Dalton's hands gripped firmly on your hips, pulling you closer. He placed a hand under your thigh and positioned you how he wanted. He took it slow, one step at a time. His hand travelled back up to the curve of your ass that he squeezed a little bit harsher than you expected.

The whimper you let out only encouraged him to keep going while his feverish touches fuelled you to take this further. Your tongue traced his lips before he parted his mouth open.

Your tongues danced together while he let go of you briefly to unbutton his shirt. Immediately after, your hands were all over him. Your fingertips followed the shape of his collarbone down to the curve of his pecs to end on the valley between his abs. You printed each and every detail of Dalton in your mind.

Your loving touch spread goosebumps on his skin, or perhaps it was the breeze getting cooler. The sunset reached its last instants, the sun appeared to be swallowed by the ocean far beyond the horizon. The marina was peaceful, but not quiet. Soft whimpers and grunts filled the silence as the waves slowly hit the sand.

You paused to catch your breath, Dalton could not take his eyes off your kiss swollen lips. "Wanna make you feel good." He whispered against your lips before leaning in again to let his tongue invade your mouth. His hands rested on your hips, squeezing the flesh and making your body move back and forth.

You ached from the lack of direct contact with him, you needed to feel him. But, again, you wanted to respect how far he seemed willing to go.

So he put his words into actions. Dalton made you straddle his thigh, trying to adjust the best he could to make sure you were comfortable. With his hands on your ass again, he began to make you grind on him. At first the movements were tentative, he let you adjust to the friction between your core and the clothes. But when you moaned at his ear, he could no longer hold back.

You rocked your hips back and forth, succumbing to the ever-growing hunger for more. More of this heated intimacy, more of Dalton's warm skin on yours... More.

Every time a door opened, Dalton closed it by repeating that you were a nice person, that you did not want to know him in that way, that you did not want to get close to him.

Yet, you waited. You showed him you had all the patience in the world for him. You showed that you were not out to get him, that you simply wanted to make Dalton feel good too.

You succeeded. The more you waited and reassured him that you would respect his boundaries, the more Dalton wanted to explore what lied beyond those limits.

"I don't want to stop." You murmured at his ear, trailing kisses from his ear and along his jaw until your lips connected again.

"I don't wanna stop either." His grip tightened on your hips, forcing you to slow down. "But since you refuse to get on the boat with me..."

You remained categorical, he would never convince you to step foot in that death trap. "We can go back to my place."

"Oh yeah?" Dalton kept you immobile, pressed down on his thigh. Your whine of complaint sounded like music to his ears. "You think you can wait that long?" It was quite the drive between the beach and your home. If either of you had the genuine intention to leave, you would have done in a while ago. "I'm not too sure about that."

You scoffed at his assumption. "Can you wait?"

Dalton answered your question by capturing your lips with his in a rough kiss. He slowly, carefully, helped you to lay on your back. He guided your legs apart to make space, his gaze meeting yours while his hands caressed your thighs. He let the tension build, he needed you to give him one more sign that you wanted this just as much as he did. When your hips bucked forward, your body pressing more against his, he grinned. "I've waited long enough."

#jake gyllenhaal #elwood dalton #jake gyllenhaal smut #elwood dalton smut #jake gyllenhaal imagine #elwood dalton imagine #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #elwood dalton x reader #jake gyllenhaal x reader #elwood dalton fanfic

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mingigoo · 2 years ago

Note

hi sie!! i'm happy to see that your requests are open and would like to request something myself c: 1. seonghwa 2. roommate au 3. prompts 11 and 17 4. with spice please 🙏 thanks so much! i rly appreciate you and your writing even if you can't get to this 💕

I hope you like this!!! really enjoyed writing this one :)

— sleep-talker || p.sh (m.)

“You know you sleep talk?”

“Stop looking at me like that.

🌊pairing ⇢ (fem) reader x roommate! Seonghwa

🌊 summary ⇢ when you and your friends decide on a trip to the beach for spring break, you get stuck rooming with the man you "hate" the most. The line between love and hate is as thin as ice, and you were about to break it.

🌊 genre/au ⇢ roommates au, vacation au, one bed trope, forced proximity au, smut

🌊 warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ minors DNI, wet dreams, fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, PDA, "enemies" to lovers, one-bed trope, teasing, jealousy, intense tension like holy hell

🌊 word count ⇢ 10.2k words

🌊 taglist ⇢ @jjhmk @yesv01 @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @yukine-smx @y00nzin0 @8tinytings @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts (please let me know if I forgot you!)

masterlist

ateez masterlist

“Are you for real right now?”

Spring break. A time for rest, relaxation, and lots and lots of sex.

And now, your plans of being a whore for the vacation were ruined.

“Yes, y/n. I can't afford another room just for you to have to yourself,” Hongjoong, your older brother, mumbled as he stuffed the last bit of clothes into his luggage. “You��ll have to room with Seonghwa. San and Wooyoung already called each other.”

He zipped up his suitcase and stood up to leave, but he couldn't get off that easily. “Please, Joong. I’ll do anything. Cant I just room with you and Mingi?” he hastily made his way out of his room and into the living room, trying his hardest to get away from you. “I’ll sleep on the floor. No blanket, just the floor. Please.”

He turned to face you, a confused expression on his face. “Why are you so adamant about not staying with Hwa? What did he ever do to you?” he asked you, genuinely curious. The truth is, he did nothing to you personally. Maybe that was why you hated him, because god, if he gave you the time of day, you would pounce on him like a cat in heat.

You groaned, running a hand through your messy, unwashed hair. “Because he’s a dumb ass jerk that gets everything he wants.”

Hongjoong laughed at you and turned away. “It's only a week, y/n. He’ll probably spend most of his time in our room, anyway. Just bring a book to read or something to distract yourself.”

As if reading is the thing you'll be focused on if you were in a room with him. Oh Nah, you'll be wishing he’d walk around shirtless and hoping he somehow takes a shower and walks out with nothing on—

“I hope you're packed and ready….” Joong trailed off as he looked at your messy exterior, and stifled a laugh. “And if you're thinking of getting laid, you might want to shower.”

You slapped him on the shoulder, having no drive to shower. You'll get one when you get there. It's not like you were that stinky.

“Shut up, dickhead.”

You stood on the sidewalk of your apartment building, Hongjoong’s little yellow Geo Tracker sitting there lookin’ all cute. However, the tiny thing only had five seats.

There were six of you.

“Welp looks like I can't go! What a shame, what a shame,” you sarcastically yelled out, tossing your hands in the air exasperatedly. “Have fun without me!”

“Shut your mouth, will you?” Hongjoong groaned, tossing your luggage into the “trunk” or whatever it was. “It's only a ride to the airport. You can sit on someone’s lap for ten minutes.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Why am I the one that has to do that? Wooyoung is like the size of my arm. He can do it.”

Joong shut the trunk with force at your comment, totally disregarding you. “Hop in,” he said. “Enjoy shotgun while you have the chance.”

You got in reluctantly, even though you were very excited about the beach itself. Your excitement was short-lived as you approached the devil’s lair.

“Stay here, I’ll go help them,” Hongjoong mumbled, pushing his sunglasses up on his forehead as he put the car in park.

You nodded, your arms crossed over your chest. You didn't mind the rest of the group— San and Wooyoung always knew how to make you laugh, and Mingi was absolutely eye candy. You wouldn't mind sitting on his lap on the way to the airport.

Just as you got comfortable with your head resting against the window, the door abruptly opened, causing you to nearly fall out of the vehicle. “For fuck’s sake, who the hell—” your words got caught in your throat as you met eyes with Park fucking Seonghwa. “Oh, it's you…”

He stood there, his thin torso draped in a sheer white top and his long, lean legs covered in a pair of black pants. You swallowed your drool like a schoolgirl, making sure he never knows how you think of him.

“What?” you raised your eyebrow, not moving an inch and not even reaching to unplug your seatbelt. “This seat’s taken, buddy.”

He snickered, his lips mockingly curled up in a sneer. “Oh, aren't you a sweetheart? Now move, I called shotgun.”

“Well, I did first.”

“No, you didn't.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No.”

“Yes—”

“Neither of you are getting shotgun,” your brother laughed from behind Seonghwa, San and Wooyoung giggling like the goofs they are next to him. You still didn't move, even as Joong approached and unbuckled your seatbelt for you. “Y/N, please help me out here.”

You debated on throwing a fit, but knowing that it would just cause more problems, you sighed and pushed yourself out of the front seat. Now standing on the curb of the sidewalk right in front of Seonghwa, you tilted your head up to look him in the eyes. His gaze was intense—it made you envision what it would be like in bed, looking down at him from above, and how his eyebrows would knit together in pleasure. God, you needed to get laid this vacation, or you were going to be suffering from delusions.

Without warning, Mingi pushed through both of you, interrupting your staring contest.

“We better go, I don't want to listen to their bickering any longer,” the tall boy huffed as he plopped himself in the front seat, a proud smile resting on his lips.

San sat in the backseat on the right, Wooyoung next to him in the middle. That left either you or seonghwa to fight to the death for that last seat, but you knew how this was going to end.

And it wasn't going to end well.

—

“You comfortable, y/n?” your brother called from the driver’s seat, looking back at you through the rearview mirror.

You frowned so deeply you could've sworn your face was permanently stuck like that.

There you were, in the back of the car, in the most uncomfortable seat ever. Seonghwa groaned underneath you, his bony body not offering you any wiggle room. You didn't answer your brother, you were certain your expression was enough of a response.

You adjusted yourself on Seonghwa’s lap, looking out the window for any distraction. As you moved, you felt him move his hips, and you had to shut away your filthy thoughts about him as soon as they came. Between his movements and his groans, your stomach was knotting in something more than butterflies.

The car was filled with conversation, however, you and Seonghwa remained quiet and in your own little worlds. As the others bantered, you pushed yourself up further on his lap, grimacing as you heard him let out a grunt in your ear.

And then when his hands gripped onto your bare thighs, you were the one to gasp.

“Stop moving,” he whispered in your ear with haste, almost like a sneer. You kept your vision forward as his breath danced in your ear. “It hurts.”

You swallowed hard. “Oh? Is your little dick that sensitive?” you whispered back, smirking. You moved again, this time on purpose, feeling his bulge through his pants. You kept your cool, ignoring his shaky breaths from behind you. “Are you that happy to see me, Hwa?”

“Shut your mouth or you won’t see the sunrise,” he hissed, but his voice was weak.

The ten-minute ride felt like an eternity as he breathed underneath you, your mind constantly thinking about how hard he was getting underneath you and how sweet it would be to turn around and face him to see his reaction to you.

You looked to your right, seeing Wooyoung with a knowing smile on his face. “What?” you asked him, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged, grinning. “Nothing, nothing,” he said, letting out a giggle. “Just that you both seem…cozy.”

You slapped him on the shoulder, your movements causing Seonghwa to wiggle underneath you.

“Dammit, Y/N I told you to stop moving,” he seethed, his grip on your thigh tightening. Hongjoong looked back through the mirror, worry in his expression.

“Everything okay?” he asked, meeting your eyes before focusing on the road once again. “We’re almost there, only about a minute or two.”

“Ten-minute ride my ass,” you mumbled, and as you entered the Airport, you should've known that there were going to be speed bumps on the way in….

The shitty old car hopped over the bump, feeling like it hit a huge boulder. You bounced up, not held by any seatbelt, landing hard, right on Seonghwa’s family jewels.

“Fuck,” he cried, tossing his head back against the headrest. Your hands were now holding onto his legs for dear life.

“Joong, will you slow down for those things? Some of us are suffering back here,” you said, to which seonghwa started laughing.

“You're telling me.” he scoffed.

“Okay okay, I just have to park. I have no idea how this works….where the hell is the long-term parking—”

“Probably over there,” Mingi pointed in the opposite direction.

“No, no, I think it’s—”

“I can't take this anymore!” you cried out, leaning forward to assist Hongjoong since Mingi isn't helping. “There's a huge sign in front of us. How can you miss that? It spells it out, dammit.” you huffed, throwing yourself back into your “seat.” This time, he didn't let out a single groan, probably just as fed up with you as you were with him.

Finally, Hongjoong found the lot and parked the car, and as soon as it was stationary, you tossed yourself out of the vehicle like there was no tomorrow. You knew that you couldn't last a minute more on his lap, because if you did, you would be so tempted to turn around and make out with those painfully pretty lips of his. God, he made you so mad. Ever since you met him, there were only the same thoughts circulating round and round.

Dirty thoughts.

Seonghwa crawled out of the car like a decrepit old spider, his long legs holding up his body with grace. You bit your lip, looking down at where you were sitting on him. Quickly, you looked away as he noticed your gaze, and ran away to go help the others with the luggage.

You weren't quick enough to miss the achingly attractive smirk on Seonghwa’s face.

Why did he have to be so….. libidinous? He was like a wild animal, able to take the lives away of his prey with just an expression.

No more seonghwa on the brain—it was beach time. You were certain you could find someone at a bar to sleep with later, and it wouldn't be Hwa.

Not now, not ever.

—

You got lucky with the plane ride.

Your seat buddy was Mingi, and Hongjoong knew how much you like your window seats.

Mingi nearly slept the whole flight, his head rested against your shoulder. He snored a little, but it didn't matter. The gentle giant had a place in your heart, so he could do no wrong.

You often stole glances at Seonghwa across the aisle, his head bobbing up and down as he fought his tiredness. He was so much more likable when he was sleeping, but that was definitely due to the fact that he couldn't stare at you with those entrancing eyes or run that mouth of his.

You were the only one awake by the end of the flight. It was difficult for you to sleep in public places. It didn't feel right. So you would fight off sleep as hard as you could and distract yourself with anything around you.

After the fiasco of leaving the plane, you anxiously trailed behind Hongjoong through the busy airport, pushing past loads of people who had places to be. Thank goodness you were able to leave the airport without a fuss, even if seonghwa was nearly breathing down your neck as you exited.

Luckily, the ride to the hotel wasn't far—and there were more than enough seats for all of you. You distanced yourself from Seonghwa, ignoring his hellish gaze.

The hotel you were staying at stood tall, facing the gorgeous blue ocean for a perfect view. You shut your eyes as you took everything in, smelling the saltiness and the warmth of the air. You smiled to yourself, but your delightful moment didn't last long.

Seonghwa bumped into you purposely, digging his shoulder into yours before walking past you toward the hotel entrance. “Hey, what was that for?” you growled, a scowl on your face.

“You were in the way,” is all he said, not even bothering to turn to face you as he spoke. He continued walking, his beautiful silhouette showing through his sheer shirt. Oh, you wanted to tear it off of him so badly.

You let out a huff of air, but then followed your friends into the building, knowing the end was near if you had to share the room with your snack of choice.

Hongjoong went up to the front desk as you and the boys stood near the doorway, waiting for him to check us in. It didn't take him long, and soon enough, he was walking back over, key cards in his hand, and a bright smile on his face. “All checked in! This’ll be our home for the next week.”

San grabbed his key card first. “Are we all on the same floor? Like in a row? It would be no fun if I had to actually put on clothes to go on the elevator.”

“Yes, San, we’re all on the same floor.” Hongjoong held in his laugh, already clearly enjoying his time away from reality. You stood angrily with your arms across your chest next to seonghwa, who didn't look any happier than you. “And will you two brighten up? You’re killing the vibe.”

You rolled your eyes, glancing up at the boy next to you. His dark hair was slightly frizzy from the humidity, sticking to his forehead like it would if he were sweating. You gulped, thinking dirty thoughts once more before regaining your peace of mind. “I’m not doing anything. It’s all him.”

“No, it’s all you, not me.” he retaliated.

“You’re the one that got a hard-on from me just innocently sitting on your lap.”

“You were purposely shoving your ass on me like a freak—”

“You are ruining the vacation already—”

“Annnd we’re not doing this again,” Mingi sighed and then gripped onto your arm to pull you towards the elevator.

“Let’s go, we got bars to get wrecked at.”

—

“Oh, hell no.”

You dropped your luggage as you entered your room for the week, staring at what was in it.

Or lack thereof.

One bed—a queen, maybe, sat in the middle of the room. A chair was tilted by the sliding glass doors that opened to the balcony, and a lamp stood in the corner. It was cute, of course, but you thought this couldn't get any worse.

Seonghwa walked past you into the room, setting his suitcase on the floor by the chair. “Don't worry,” he hummed, his voice low. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“I–” you paused, taking in a breath before continuing. “You can sleep on the bed, I ain't that mean.”

“So you think I’m going to let my best friend’s sister sleep on the floor?” he laughed, but it wasn't out of humor. “That’s funny. I’d get my ass beat.” He sat down on the floor, stretching out his long legs before opening his suitcase. “Just forget about me like you usually do and take the bed.”

You had no snarky remarks to throw at him this time, your eyelids feeling heavier than ever. You sighed, sitting down on the bed with a thud. “Okay, fine. Wake me up when we are going to leave.”

“Yeah yeah,” he snarkily replied, too focused on his luggage in front of him. You shut your eyes slowly, holding on to your consciousness a little longer, before drifting off into a sleep that would cause an unexpected uproar a few hours later.

—

After your amazing nap, you and the boys found your way to a beach bar, sand filling the floor and loud music playing in the background. You took your rightful spot at the bar, sitting right next to Wooyoung, who was already chugging a fruity margarita.

“You should try this, Y/N,” he let out a satisfied sigh after he finished his gulp. “Tastes like fucking unicorns and rainbows.”

You laughed. “Sounds divine, but I’ll pass and get my whiskey sour.”

He grimaced. “Ew, you should spruce it up a little bit sometimes.”

San sat down on the other side of him, a fancy glass in his hands as well. “Yeah, you’re kind of a bore.”

“San what the—”

“She is, isn't she?” Seonghwa hummed from behind you, and of course, sat his ass in the chair right next to you. You groaned, ignoring him once again, although it was quite hard to not drool as he gulped his beer, his throat bobbing as he drank it.

Fucking hell.

You looked around for any sign of your brother to save you, and once you saw him, you cringed, turning right back around to face the bar. “Dear god, can't he keep his dick in his pants for five minutes?” you shivered, trying to think of anything else other than your brother making out with a random person.

Seonghwa looked back, a smirk on his face as you ordered your drink. “Hypocrite. Just last week I walked in on you with Mingi in the chem lab,” he snickered, his midnight eyes catching the neon lights behind the bar. “Your tongue was so far down his throat I swear I—”

“Says the guy who I caught watching porn freshman year in the computer lab—”

“Here’s your Whiskey sour,” the bartender awkwardly interrupted, but thank god he did. You quickly chugged it, finishing it within a minute of getting it. He gave you another right away, and you downed that one as quickly as it came. He was cute, a little on the scruffy side, but definitely a good one-night. You gave him a look, feeling accomplished as he smirked a little before serving someone else.

“Maybe you shouldn't drink so fast, y/n,” San murmured from Wooyoung’s side, his strong arms holding his weight against the table. “You get drunk really quick on an empty stomach. Remember what happened last time? You have a bad habit of trying to kiss everything you see.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, setting the empty glass down on the bar. As you did that, you felt the warmth of the alcohol fill your body. “What? Who did I kiss?”

Seonghwa laughed from the other side of you while you focused on San.

“Me.” San blinked. “Tongue and all. But not just me, you kissed the statue outside our campus. You know, that really rusty one?”

You gagged. “Ew, no. stop. No, I didn't.”

“Oh, yes you did,” Seongwha piped in, sipping on his third or fourth beer. “And then you threw up on my shoes when I brought you home.”

You let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, taking his beer right out of his hands. “Phew, thank god I didn't kiss you,” you shivered, bringing the bottle up to your lips. After you started chugging it a little bit, Hwa ripped the bottle away from you.

You felt your vision start to sway from the alcohol. You loved the feeling of being drunk—just hated the hangovers. Right now though, you wanted to get wasted and go home with a stranger. The hangover will be tomorrow’s problem.

But seonghwa had to just run his mouth once again.

“You know you talk in your sleep, right?” He laughed, a full, humorous laugh. He tossed the bottle to the back of his throat and then continued to laugh at you. “Something about how awful the airplane food was and how drinking milk reminds you of cum.” he grimaced at the last part, but a playful smile still rested on his face. “God you are explicit.”

Your cheeks flushed, looking anywhere but his direction. “I do not sleeptalk.”

You looked to Wooyoung and San for help, but they looked dumbfounded. “I wouldn't know, y/n, I never slept with you,” San smirked, smiling deviously at you. “Unless you’re down with that, I’m all for hearing you sleeptalk in my ear all night.”

“Yeah, me too,” Woo played along, knowing he was just doing it to tease you. Seonghwa, on the other hand, was trying desperately to embarrass you in front of the hot bartender.

“God, it’s so annoying, I wanted to rip my hair out earlier,” he smiled devilishly, his teeth even brighter than normal under all the neon lights. “I thought I couldn't hate you more, but you proved me wrong.”

You looked straight ahead, ignoring Seonghwa’s goofy smile. “Whatever,” you huffed, resting your face on your hand, your elbow holding up the weight. You watched the sexy bartender notice your stare. He smiled and walked over to you.

“Need another sour?” he asked, his cheeks pinched with dimples. You had your eyes set on going home with him, and you were going to follow through with it. Seonghwa can stay outside for the night—or watch, it didn't matter to you.

“Actually,” you pondered, blinking slowly as the alcohol hit your system even harder. “I’ll take a vodka and Sprite. Grey Goose.” you hummed, watching him nod with a smirk on his face.

Seonghwa chuckled, but you were too focused on your mission to hear him blab about how much he hated you over and over again. Soon enough, that damn grey goose hit you harder than anything. Your eyes fluttered after your second glass, your vision fuzzy, and your heartbeat racing.

You let out a heavy sigh, unable to remember your original mission.

“Hey,” you coughed, your cheeks burning up from the toxin. You looked around the bar, only meeting Seonghwa’s eyes…..oh…they’re so pretty. “Where did everyone else go?”

He was facing you, looking at you through those sparkling irises of his. He took in a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, your brother left with that girl he was making out with earlier….San and Woo left not too long ago to go to another bar, and Mingi….” he paused, watching your expression change when mingi was mentioned. “Mingi went with them.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “Why’d you stop at mingi like that?”

He furrowed his brows. “Why’d you look like that when I mentioned him?”

You sniffled, feeling a burning sensation in your throat from all the vodka. “What do you mean?” you were too messed up to defend yourself. You didn't even know your expression changed.

“You looked…different when I said his name.”

You couldn't help but laugh at his dreary tone. “Pfft. Hwa, do you think that just because I slept with him once that I have feelings for him?”

He frowned, his eyebrows knit with confusion. “You slept with him? Mingi?”

You shrugged. “Yeah. Just once, though.” Oh god, you officially couldn't think straight. Why were you even telling him this? “But that was it.”

He looked at you with an unknown expression, flattening his lips. “So you just sleep with anyone, huh?”

You scoffed. “Well, no, not usually.” you bit your lip, looking at him without knowing how you were looking at him. “I kind of always wanted you, but I didn’t understand why, so I ignore the feeling by sleeping with other guys.”

“That makes no sense, y/n,” he spat. “What are you saying?”

You rolled your eyes, drunkenly gripping his broad shoulders, shaking him slightly. “Awh, shut it, Hwa. Haven't you ever felt that before?” you paused, not realizing how close you were. His eyes were sharp, and his lips parted. “Wanting someone you can't have? Knowing that they wouldn't want anything to do with you?”

He swallowed hard, his gaze piercing into you sharply. “You’re drunk, y/n,” he paused, looking at you intently before shaking your hands away. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”

“Oooh, don't tempt me, baby,” you poked his chest, giggling as he stood up off the barstool. You were completely oblivious to the fact that you just admitted to wanting him, but it didn't seem like he took it seriously.

“Get up,” he huffed, gripping under your arms and lifting you off your chair. You groaned, wrapping your arms around his waist. You held onto him tightly as he reached into his back pocket to grab money, tossing it onto the counter with a glare at the bartender.

“Enjoy your night,” Seonghwa growled, holding onto you, and made his way towards the hotel with you clung to him.

“Seonghwa,” you whispered, a giggle under your breath.

He grunted, pulling you along with him. “What?”

You sniffed. “Can I kiss you?”

He sighed. “No.”

“Why?” you mumbled, shoving your face into his chest.

“Because it’s your drunk habit.”

“So would you kiss me if it wasn't?” you asked, completely obliterated. There was no way you were going to remember this in the morning.

He didn't answer you.

“Come on, Hwa,” you moaned, stopping and gripping onto his collar in front of the hotel. You looked up into his eyes, feeling his intense gaze cut right through your intoxication. You needed him. Needed him bad. “Just once. God, just once.”

“I…” he swallowed, his hands twitching at his sides, crying out to touch you. He kept them away, even if he didn't want to. “Not now. Not while you’re drunk.”

You blinked slowly, watching his lips flatten into a frown. “Does that mean you want to?”

He sighed, running his hands through his hair aggressively. “Please just….let’s get back to the room and get you to bed.”

You groaned, but complied, following him into the hotel and into the elevator. The ride was silent, Seonghwa standing in the corner, farthest away from you, his breathing slowed. You stared at him, leaning up against the wall.

“I really hate you,” you mumbled, glaring at him. He was too sexy, his hair messy, his eyes dark, his long legs taller than a skyscraper. You only admitted your attraction to him when you were drunk, but you couldn't deny the pull you had to him.

He looked up at you, his starry eyes looking from your legs, up to your hips, over your breasts, and finally to your eyes. He took in a sharp breath, biting the corner of his lip.

“I hate you too,” he whispered, his vision low.

And in what world would the words I hate you cause someone’s heart to flutter?

The elevator dinged at your floor, and after a moment of longing stares, Seonghwa gripped your arm and dragged you out. He held onto your drunken body as he searched for his keycard, and once he found it, you tumbled into the room together.

Your back was pressed against the wall, his arms caging you in on both sides. His forehead was on yours, and you were able to feel his hot breath against your lips.

“Oh,” you hummed, your hands subconsciously dancing at the hem of his t-shirt. You watched his throat bob anxiously as you looked into his eyes.

It took everything in him to move away. He coughed awkwardly and then nodded toward the bed. “Come on, you need to rest.”

“Mhm,” you murmured, unable to move in a straight line. You kicked off your sandals, and pulled off your shirt with ease, leaving you only in your bra and that skimpy skirt seonghwa was looking at all night.

He watched as you walked, holding his breath without meaning to.

As you neared the bed, you reached back to unclip your bra, but you couldn't reach it. “Hwa?”

He was looking at the floor. “Hm?”

“Can you…” you paused, giving up on trying to get it off. “Take this off of me? It’s really uncomfortable.”

He blinked, his eyes wide. You couldn't see the confusion in his expression, but you heard the shakiness of his tone. “W-what? Your….bra?”

“Yeah.”

He didn't say anything else. He slowly walked over to where you were, and as his fingertips traced the middle of your back, you shivered under his touch.

He unclasped the hook, but held on to both ends of the bra, afraid to let it drop. “It’s done,” he whispered, backing up slightly.

You dropped the bra onto the floor and then reached to take off your skirt. As you slid it down your hips, you heard seonghwa nearly trip over his feet trying to turn away.

“Do you…always sleep naked?” he asked you, looking anywhere but where you were. You were way too drunk to care about what he sees, but you were also too tired to try. You fell onto the bed, your arm covering your breasts and your underwear still on.

“Fuck, y/n,” Seonghwa huffed, finally looking over and doing everything to not look where he shouldn't. He gently reached for the blanket, tossing it over you in one swift motion.

You shut your eyes tight, feeling his presence loom over you. He brushed away the stray hairs on your face and made sure you were laying on your side.

“.... I’m so screwed,” he muttered, giving you one last look before walking into the bathroom and turning on the cold water.

A cold shower, especially knowing that there was a beautiful, nearly naked girl in the bed just outside the door.

The cold water ran down his body, giving him a rush of pain.

“Fuck,” he hissed, biting his lip as his attraction to you only worsened.

—

After his attempt to cleanse his messy thoughts, Seonghwa stepped out of the bathroom, towel hanging low on his hips. He hesitated before looking over at you, and after he got a good look at your pretty face, he made his way to his luggage, rooting in there for a t-shirt to toss on.

“...seong…hwa,” you moaned.

Moaned.

“....y/n?” he whispered, maybe thinking you were awake and needed something. He didn't want to jump to conclusions, but that sounded too….sensual than just a normal tone.

“I…ugh,” you groaned, “don't stop, please. H…Hwa.”

Seonghwa raised his eyebrows, dropping the clothes he had in his hands, eyes wide.

“Seonghwa….”

Okay, that was the third time. You were most definitely dreaming about him….

“Oh…my…god.” Hwa gulped, cautiously standing up and backing away as far as he could from you.

Little did he know how detailed your dream was.

—

His hands snaked up your bare hips, your legs wrapped around his waist. His lips were on your ear, biting, teeth clashing against your skin.

He thrusted into you, hard, his hips buckling as he moaned. You cried out his name, back arching, nails scratching. He fucked you hard, his forehead against yours, and his eyes rolled back into his head.

“You like that?” he whispered, his tongue sliding into your mouth before you could answer. His sweat fell on your cheek, and you moaned out his name once more. You weren't sure how you got here, how this came about, or anything. All that mattered was that you were finally with him, the man you always thought you hated.

“…hwa,” you moaned, “fuck me harder.”

And as he slammed into you with even more force than before, his lips crashed onto yours, his black hair blocking your vision. You wanted more, and more and more—

“Y/n,”

“Just shut up and keep going,” you cried out.

“Y/N!”

You shot awake, gasping for air as your back hit the headboard. You breathed heavily, realizing that you were dreaming about all of that and that the real seonghwa was standing in front of you, shirtless, with an expression you weren't quite sure you’d ever seen before.

“Seonghwa, what—”

“S..stop it. Don't say my name,” he stuttered, looking anywhere but your body. He quickly tossed a t-shirt at you—his t-shirt. “Just put this on. The guys are down getting breakfast, so we gotta go.”

He quickly walked to his own luggage and grabbed a shirt for himself. You watched him as he tossed it on and slid on his shoes, and with one last awkward glance at you, he left the room in haste.

You were too scared to look down, hoping that you still had underwear on. You weren't too sure if that was a dream or not, but given the way he acted, it made you even more confused.

You felt the wetness between your thighs, clenching them with a sigh. You stood up, tossing on the bra that was laying on the floor as if it was thrown off of you.

After cleaning yourself up a bit, you made your way to the breakfast area on the first floor, immediately noticed by Hongjoong. “There you are! I was worried you weren't going to—” he stopped, noticing the shirt that was way too big on you. “That’s the shirt I got Hwa….”

Seonghwa cleared his throat, shoving a bagel into his mouth to distract himself.

You ignored him and sat down across from him and next to Mingi. You looked up, meeting eyes with the man you thought so filthily about, seeing a swipe of cream cheese on the bottom of his lip. You held back, knowing that it’ll just send you into another spiral if you pointed it out.

But when he stuck his tongue out to lick it off, you felt the tingle in your stomach once more, thinking back at the dream you had, and how his tongue caressed you in more ways than one.

He met eyes with you, his lips parting slightly. His gaze was much different than it ever has been. You've never seen him so….lost. His expression was conflicted, his eyes not leaving your lips.

Wooyoung smirked. “Did you guys fuck or something? What’s with the mood?”

“Wooyoung!” Hongjoong yelled.

“What? I’m just pointing out the obvious,” he shrugged.

“We didn't. Keep dreaming,” Seonghwa muttered lowly, taking another bite of his bagel.

Hongjoong huffed. “I don't want to imagine my sister and seonghwa in that way…that’s super weird.”

“Why?” seonghwa questioned, his tone serious. You looked at him, confused as to why he cared. It seemed like everyone else was just as confused as you. “Ahem, I mean…uh, is it that hard to imagine?” Seonghwa’s voice was shaky, his gaze hopping from Hongjoong to you.

It made your brother laugh. “Well, yeah. You guys hate each other, right?” he took a sip of his coffee before continuing. “It makes no sense for you to even see eye to eye, I couldn't imagine you two in any type of relationship. Maybe her and Mingi, out of everyone.”

Seonghwa dropped his bagel face down onto his plate. “Why Mingi? What’s so special about—”

“I’m right here guys….” Mingi tried to interrupt, but Seonghwa shot him a dangerous glare, causing the gentle giant to hold his tongue.

Hongjoong looked around at the boys awkwardly and picked up his fork to continue eating his eggs. “I’m just saying.”

This was too awkward. You kept stealing glances at Hwa as if he were a magnet. You assumed he felt similarly, because every time you looked, your eyes would meet, and then you would awkwardly stare for a moment too long before looking away.

And when he got up to get more food, you got up, too.

“We need to talk,” you whispered, coming right up next to him as he put a muffin on his plate. “Why are you acting weird?”

He sighed and continued to add food to his plate. “I’m not acting weird.”

As he moved to get a drink from the drink machine, you continued to follow him. “Did I do something wrong yesterday?” you gasped, holding a hand over your mouth as he still ignored you. “Did I kiss you? Dear god, I hope not—”

“No, you didn't,” he said quietly, walking back over to the table.

“Something must have happened, seonghwa—”

He stopped, nearly causing you to bump into his back. “Don't.” he paused, taking in a sharp breath, looking over his shoulder at you. “Don't say my name.”

You frowned in confusion, watching the muscles in his back move as he walked away. You couldn't remember your antics yesterday, but maybe you made him uncomfortable by sleeping nearly naked—he hated you, so you could only imagine how irritated he was.

“Listen, if it was because I was naked, I'm sorry—”

Everyone at the table looked up as you spoke, including seonghwa. He looked shy, a blush on his cheeks, and he sat down quickly and stuffed the muffin in his mouth.

“Naked?” Mingi laughed, looking from you to seonghwa suggestively. “Sounds awfully smutty, Seonghwa.”

“We didn't—” he groaned, running a hand down his face. “Nothing happened with us.”

“Mhm, okay,” San smirked. “Whatever you say. Anyway, we have a whole day out planned, so you two better get back to your normal selves or we won't have any fun.”

You really needed to talk to seonghwa, but it seemed like you'll be busy the whole day with the boys—and he didn't seem to be very interested in talking to you, anyway.

You tilted your head in curiosity.

“What are we doing?”

—

The day was eventful.

First, you went to the beach. Seemed innocent, until Seonghwa took off his shirt and got all soaking wet, sending you in a mess of thoughts and a mess below. He would look over at you, and wouldn't look away, paying intense attention to your body in a skimpy little bikini.

When you went to talk to him, he body-slammed you into the ocean, and normally you would've fumed, but this time, you enjoyed his hands on your bare skin.

After the beach, you walked along the boardwalk of shops and lots of food. You grabbed a popsicle, licking it without a thought, but when you felt an intense pressure on you, you looked over to see seonghwa looking at you with an expression you've never seen on him. His eyes were focused on your lips, his own lips curled up as he bit them. You continued to eat your popsicle, but couldn't stop looking at him.

When you tried to bring up last night, Hongjoong came over and took the rest of your pop, running away from you like a child.

At dinner, you sat at the far end of the table, as far away as possible from Seonghwa. It wasn't intended, but now there was no way you could talk, as everyone would hear your conversation.

You ate, feeling defeated. Maybe you should just forget about it.

It was still daylight after dinner. As the guys conversed about what to do next, San and Wooyoung decided to go their own way and walk the beach, which was just their code word for “shopping” for girls. Hongjoong agreed with them, shocking you since he was always hell-bent on not going off a schedule. You assumed he was just going to meet that girl he was with yesterday, but whatever, it just meant that you could be left alone with Seonghwa.

After those three left, it was only you, Seonghwa, and Mingi. Hwa stood with his hands in his pockets, awkwardly looking around as you stood outside the restaurant. Mingi was even more awkward, looking at you before speaking.

“Um, I’m just gonna go with Woo and San, so,” he breathed, looking to seonghwa now. “I’ll see you guys back at the hotel tonight.”

“Okay, Mingi,” you smiled. “See you later.”

You watched him leave and then looked at the boy standing next to you.

“So,” you tried to initiate conversation, but seonghwa started walking in the opposite direction from where everyone else went. You followed. “What should we do?”

“I’m going surfing,” he said blandly. “I don't know about you, though.”

“I’ll come with you,” you smiled, finally catching up to him. He let out an aggravated groan as you walked close to him. “Do you even know how to surf?”

He scoffed. “Yeah, of course, I do.”

“I’m just saying,” you noted, shrugging as you followed him. “You’re too….dainty. I feel like if you fell off you’d break every bone in your body.”

Seonghwa didn't react in any way you were hoping he would. Instead, he kept walking silently, until you reached the part of the beach where the surf shack was. Wetsuits were laid out, ready to be picked up, and surfboards stood tall through the sand and against the building. You stared in awe as you approached, seeing that there was no one else here but you two.

Finally, alone at last.

“Grab a suit if you’re gonna do this,” he pointed to them, raising an eyebrow when you stood there anxiously. “What? Don't you know how to surf?” he mocked.

You kicked at the sand, your hands behind your back. “Pff. yeah, of course, I….no. I don't.” you pleaded with your eyes sweetly, despite all of the dirty things you wanted to do to him. “Could you please teach me? Pretty please?”

He held his own suit close to his chest as he looked down at you. “Why should I?”

You stepped closer to him, causing him to step back cautiously. “Because I’m pretty?”

“Oh honey, who lied to you?” he joked.

“Please, Seonghwa?” you stressed his name, hoping to break him. You watched his eye twitch as you said it, reminding you of earlier when he told you not to say his name.

“Seonghwa seonghwa seonghwa seong—”

“Okay, fine! Jeez,” he huffed, tossing you a suit, only for it to hit you in the face. “Get dressed.”

You walked into the shack with him, going your separate ways at the locker rooms. Everything went smoothly until you tried to zipper the suit up, only being able to get it halfway. You pondered on asking seonghwa for help or completely turning into a contortionist, but after failing to do it yourself, you gave up and left the room to ask him.

Seonghwa stood amongst the surfboards, his lean body looking delicious in that surf suit. You nearly drooled looking at him.

“Hey,” you started, slowly approaching him as he picked out a board. “Can you help me zipper this?”

He turned to you, his expression conflicted as he saw you. You turned around, showing your exposed back, causing him to clear his throat. “O..okay.”

His delicate fingers brushed against the skin of your back, nearly causing you to shiver. You felt his breath hit the back of your neck as the zipper moved up and up until he zipped it completely.

“....There,” he said, swallowing. “You’re all good.”

He didn't move his hands until you pulled away from him, turning back around to face him. The silence was deafening, so you decided to break it.

“Seonghwa, about last night, what exactly happened—”

“Let’s just get started before the sun goes down,” he interrupted, looking anywhere but your eyes. “We’ll talk later.”

That was good enough for now. You watched him try to pick out a board, but he seemed extremely nervous. After a good bit of time, he grabbed a pink one, causing you to smile. Pink suited him so much, more than he’d probably like to admit.

“Let’s start with some basics,” he spoke smoothly, tossing the board down onto the sand. “Get on it. On your stomach.”

You lay down on the board, looking up at him for more directions. He taught you how to paddle with your arms, explaining that you'll have to dive under the waves sometimes if you were okay with doing that. You couldn't look weak now, especially not to him. So after the little training lesson, you were finally in the shallow water, sand already in every nook and cranny of you.

“Try to keep balance,” he said, his voice raspy. It wasn't the time to turn you on, but of course, he could do it just by his voice. “Keep your chest up.” his hand caressed your back, down your spine.

You looked up at him, his wet hair dripping down his face. You held back, as much as you could, from pouncing on him.

But when you fell off the board and got stuck underwater, you’ve never seen him so concerned before.

He grabbed you under your arms, pulling you back up and holding him to you while you coughed. You were perfectly fine—maybe a little too much water in the ears, but it was the least of your worries. What you cared about was the look on his face and the way he caged you to his body.

“y/n?” he rushed his hand over your face, pushing away your drenched hair so he could see you. “Are you okay?”

You coughed, blinking away the salt that infiltrated your eyes. Seonghwa noticed your distress and gently rubbed your face with the pad of his thumb.

“Don't rub your eyes,” he pushed your hand away, still not letting you go from his embrace. “You'll make it worse.”

“It hurts,” you mumbled, causing his look of worry to worsen. True, the salt started burning your eyes, but you couldn't get enough of his caring touch—maybe because he’s never shown this side of himself to you.

He took in an anxious breath as he looked around. “Maybe we should get back to the hotel,” he spoke softly, the sound of water filling your senses as you looked at him.

Everything about his appearance aggravated you—from the way his midnight hair draped his face, dripping with water down his cheeks, to the way his normally judgemental eyes seemed gentle and sweet. He looked kind, the type of man who would worship his lover like a queen, and all the time knowing him, you tried your hardest to only see him in a negative light.

Now, as he held you in the cold, sparkling ocean as the sun was setting, all you saw was your reflection in his eyes and all you felt was the undeniable pull to be with him. To touch him. To kiss him. To tell him that maybe, just maybe, you’ve always had a piece of him in your heart.

“Seonghwa, I…” you paused, ignoring the burn from the salt water. You watched his lips as they slowly parted, his eyes wide as he picked you apart. They looked at you differently, like they never looked at you before, and you wanted him to never stop looking at you.

The distance between the two of you was nonexistent—you saw every drop of water on his skin, and you were certain he was able to gather the meaning behind your gaze. If he did, he didn't say anything—he only looked back at you with those entrancing irises of his, a look you’ve never seen from him. He waited patiently for you to finish your sentence, but you had nothing else to say.

As your lips neared his, you heard his breath get caught in his throat, and you felt his embrace tighten around you. You closed your eyes, taking in the feeling, hoping that he would be the one to lean in and meet your lips.

He didn't.

Instead, his hands trailed down your back, the pink surfboard still floating next to you despite being forgotten. His breath was shaky as he touched you, but the moment ended too quickly as he shook himself out of his trance.

“I um, we should, you know,” he nodded towards the beach, even though you weren't too far out. “We should get back to the room.”

You slowly blinked at him, watching his expression stay the same despite the change of mind. He coughed, letting go of you, but then he grabbed your hand and the board before pulling you to shore.

The walk back was quiet. He didn't let go of your hand until you got back to the surf shack, and he reluctantly let go knowing you had to change.

You both were silent as you looked at each other, but the ache in your chest convinced you to break this tension.

Before you entered the changing room, you quickly turned back around to face seonghwa, who still stood with that….sex-charged expression on his face.

“….Stop looking at me like that,” you hummed, your chest heavy as he breathed in deeply. He looked at you with those bedroom eyes of his, half of his wetsuit already off. He looked deadly, which didn't help your desire.

He swallowed hard but tried his best to remain calm. “Like what?”

You took a step closer, reaching back to your zipper to pull it down just a little. You shrugged it down your bare shoulders, making sure he got to know that there was nothing else but you under that wetsuit once again.

And when you got as close as you could, you said the words you knew would be life or death for him.

“Like you want to fuck me,” you shrugged, acting all cool even though you were falling apart by the second. You were lucky you were at the surf shack at such a late time of day, and that no one else was here except you.

He choked on air, stepping away from you until his back hit the wall. You noticed how his chest rose and fell as he breathed in, and how delicious it would be to just lick him all over….

“I…” he gulped, but his eyes lingered on your shoulders and the curve of your breasts. “I don't know what you mean?”

You smiled through your haze, mind focused on getting to the bottom of his sudden change of attitude towards you. You reached out, gently guiding your hand down the plain of his chest, down his slim, but muscular waist. Oh, you couldn't get enough of him already.

You smirked. “Then tell me why you’ve been eye fucking me all day, or at least what happened last night, so I can understand.”

He blinked fast, looking from your lips, down your neck, to your bare shoulders.

“You…” he took in a sharp breath as your hands trailed down his body. “You sleeptalk.”

“I know that already,” you whispered, looking into his captivating gaze.

He leaned forward slightly, veins popping in his neck as he strained against his judgment. “I mean, you…kept moaning my name. I…I couldn't take it anymore….I can't take it anymore. Every time you speak I just want to fucking shut you up with my mouth for fucks sake.” he huffed, subconsciously gripping your hips as he grits his teeth. “You so annoying, so damn annoying, I can't—”

“Then take me,” you spoke against his lips. “Fuck me. Just like you did in my dreams.”

His forehead pressed against yours as you pushed him further against the wall.

“And how did I do that?” he growled, his fingertips tugging at your wetsuit. “Was I rough? Gentle?” he paused, lips pressed to your neck. “Did I make you say my name, or was that all you with that filthy little mouth of yours?”

You couldn't speak as his lips glided down your neck to your collarbone. He sucked on the skin there, roughly, causing you to suck in a sharp breath and run your hands through his dripping-wet hair.

You moaned, biting his earlobe. “I want you to tear me apart.”

He smirked against your skin, his eyes finally meeting yours.

“Rough it is, then.”

Without warning, he bit his lip hard as he pulled your wetsuit right down to your ankles, the water from his hair dripping onto your bare shoulders. He nearly growled as you stood in front of him, naked as ever, his gaze darkening before gripping the back of your neck to pull you to him.

As he sucked on your neck, you pulled down his suit with aggression, not quick enough for the hunger in both of your souls. His hot breath tickled your skin, his hands clawed at your hips, and his lips begged to kiss yours as you shoved him against the wall once again, skin on skin. He breathed heavily, his eyes dancing from your breasts to your waist, to your lips.

You gripped onto his hair, staring into his eyes for a moment before you locked your lips with his, tasting the saltiness of the ocean and the sweet warmth of his saliva. Your tongues fought for their lives, dancing as you deepened the kiss. Foreheads slamming, hands invading space. It was all over for your sanity the minute his long fingers glided against your core, his middle finger finding your clit and rubbing gently. His kisses were rough as his fingers delicately touched you, fueling the fire within you even more than it already was.

“Seonghwa,” you moaned against his ear, causing him to move his hand faster with a grunt. “Push them in me.”

He hissed, his eyes rolling back into his head as he pulled his hands away for a moment, only to suck his fingers in front of you before shoving them into you, curling them up inside you. You arched your back against him, crying out as his lips found yours once again.

He kissed you deeply as he made love to you with his hands, his fingers long enough to reach deep inside of you—but it wasn't enough. You bit his lip sharply as he fingered you, causing him to hiss in pleasure. “I need your cock in me. Now.” you licked his jawline, watching him squirm in your embrace.

His cheeks were flushed red as he looked at you, his eyes looking as if he were intoxicated. “I…fuck,” he sucked in a breath, kissing you as his fingers moved faster and faster. “Okay.”

As he pulled his fingers out of you, he licked them once more, his eyes on yours seductively.

“You taste so good.” he moaned, his mouth parted. He then lifted you up, walking you over to the table of waxed surfboards in the middle of the room. Shoving everything off with one hand, he threw you onto the wood, causing you to let out a little grunt.

“You’re so sexy,” he leaned over you, slamming your hands above your head before silencing your moans with a rough kiss. “So fucking sexy, you have no idea how long I wanted to shove my dick inside you.” His words were like gasoline to your fire, causing you to cry out in a whimper for him to do exactly what he said he would do. You kept your mouth shut as he tugged you to the edge of the table, lining up his hard-on to enter you.

After a look of longing, he spit onto his fingers and rubbed them onto his cock and your heat, his chest falling and rising with his heavy breathing. He then buried himself inside you, deeply, causing your breath to hitch. He was even bigger than your dreams, tearing apart your expectations of his skills. You tried your best to free your arms from his hold, but as he moved in and out of you, you had lost the desire to escape it. You really liked the feeling of his fingernails tearing into your skin.

“Ah,” he whimpered, his hips rocking quickly, his eyes shut tight. His thrusts were deep, not slowing down for a second.

Your legs curled around his shoulders, his one arm holding your hands and his other piercing into your ankle. He grunted as he pumped into you, tearing at your insides, feeling him fill you up. “Hwa,” you groaned, back arching in pleasure. “Harder. Fuck me harder.”

He grunted in response, speeding up faster as his hips slammed into yours. You felt him quiver inside you, precum dripping into you without a care. You loved the feeling, you didn't care about the risks in the moment.

You climaxed without warning, your legs tightening around his head. He kept muttering your name over and over again against you, kissing the skin of your ankles as he continued to fuck the living shit out of you. You started to see stars as he nearly cracked your spine, and right before he nearly came, he flipped you over onto your stomach without ever leaving you.

Your face was shoved against the wood of the table, the sweet smell of sex enveloping your senses. You cried out his name as he gripped onto your hips, moving faster as his own orgasm came close. His lips met the small of your back, his fingers gripped your ass with haste.

“I’m going to come,” he mumbled, his voice raspy. “Can I come in you?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Come inside me.”

As if your words stirred something within him, he immediately moved in shorter movements, his grip on your ass tightening as his orgasm came. His breathing shallowed as he came into you, filling you up with his cum. You let out one last moan as you felt his warmth, and he kissed the back of your neck as he finished.

He pulled out of you slowly despite how rough he was—he could've been rougher, but you didn't want him to think of you as the insane slut everyone thought you were.

Even though you only ever slept with others because you couldn't have him.

And now…..what comes next?

He helped you sit back up to a normal position, and when he saw the dark, purple bruises on your neck and collarbone, he gasped. “Oh, I’m sorry,” his fingers gently brushed against your hot skin as if he didn't just totally destroy you. “I kind of….went crazy, didn't I?”

You smiled up at him in a daze, both your cheeks blushed in embarrassment and enjoyment. “I like crazy.”

He paused, standing proudly in front of you with that delicious body of his. You sighed in contentment, a lazy smile on your lips. “I dreamt of this. Literally.” you reached out to him, pulling his lips down to yours. He kissed them softly, opening his mouth wide as he made out with you. You didn't want to pull away, but as the thought of you both having sex in a public surf shack came to your mind, you pulled away quickly, startling him.

“Um, so,” you laughed awkwardly. “Should we head back now? We are kind of in a public place….”

Seonghwa looked around, smirking as he leaned forward on the table, kissing you once more. “It was kind of thrilling, not gonna lie.”

You leaned into his embrace, his hands caressing your back romantically. “So,” you whispered against his lips. “We should get back. And this time, you better sleep in the bed with me.”

“Oh, baby, I plan on doing more than just sleeping.”

—

After countless rounds of ‘sleeping’, you ended up waking up late in Seonghwa’s embrace, his lips pressed against the curve of your shoulder as he held you. He quite literally rocked you all night long, and you even discovered his love for reverse cowgirl—making him come within two minutes of the fifth round.

Now, as you lay in his arms while he slept, you finally felt content. He was all you ever wanted, even though your words said otherwise this whole time of knowing him.

“Hey,” you turned around in his embrace, pressing your lips against his forehead. “Seonghwa.”

“Hm?” he grumbled sleepily, his eyes blinking open to meet yours.

You smiled, running a hand through his messy hair. “We should get up. The others are probably waiting for us in the lobby.”

“Ugh, why?” he groaned, holding onto you tighter. “ I don't want to leave this bed today. Or ever.”

You giggled, pecking his lips. “Come on, Hwa. I really would like to get a tan on the sand today.”

His eyes were wide open now, but he blinked slowly from his sleepiness. “We barely got any sleep,” he huffed, shoving his head into your shoulder. “And I can't kiss you in front of everyone, I can't wait the whole day to touch you.”

You grinned chaotically.

“Who says we have to hide it?”

—

“Dear lord,” Wooyoung huffed, sitting with his arms crossed at the beach. “Are they ever going to stop and come up for air?”

Your friends sat on towels on the sand, while you sat on Seonghwa’s lap as you made out with him. His hands gripped your face as he stuck his tongue in your mouth, both of you having no care for those around you.

“I knew this was going to happen,” San mumbled with a smirk, elbowing Wooyoung playfully. “Just let them have their fun. It’s been a long time coming.”

“Pfft,” Woo scoffed, looking at how seonghwa touched you.

“I always thought I would be the one tapping that.”

“Wooyoung shut the fuck up.”

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez seonghwa #park seonghwa #seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #roomates #vacation au #ateez masterlist #enemies to lovers #fwb #wooyoung #San #mingi #Hongjoong

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helenazbmrskai · 6 months ago

Text

Textbook Love (m) - KSJ

Title [Textbook Love] previously known as Mr Dream Writer!

Pairing [Best Friend’s Brother! Seokjin x Writer! Reader]

Genre [smut, angst, fluff, best friend’s brother AU, friends to lovers, slice of life]

Summary [Loving your best friend’s brother is forbidden so what is even more forbidden you might ask. It’s writing smut about him. Can you still remain friends after he discovers your secrets?]

Words [11,6k]

Warnings [sexual content: oral sex (f and m receiving), morning wood, sexual tension, subby jin, dom reader, teasing, blowjob, lots of kisses, jin comes in his pants, possessiveness, dirty talk, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie]

Rating [+18]

A/N: Hii! Some of you might know this story (it was a series previously) but I made it into a one-shot and finished it also made some changes in the plot. Now that Jinie is home I wanted to write something about him. Please enjoy!

Masterlist //

Kim Seokjin. Jin or Jinie shortened for friends and family. Your bestest friend’s older brother and your current roommate of five months, nine hours and – a brief look at your wristwatch – twenty minutes.

He’s tall with shoulders as wide as the ocean. Could take over the model industry at any moment. But also born with a heart of gold.

He’s like the warmest of summers, the orange hues of the sunset. Shines so bright in the darkness of the night sky that you’re afraid of getting hurt if you dare to approach him carelessly but if he’s the sun then you’re the moon. The opposite that, unfortunately – doesn’t attract.

If it wasn’t obvious from the intro you put together, remind you, to read this from the first page of your diary you’re here to spell this out. You have the biggest crush on Seokjin. Ever since he caught you three years ago when you almost fell off of the cruise boat on a family vacation while mindlessly looking at the water below. You could still remember how it felt to be inside his arms. How quick your heart raced not just because of the adrenalin but by being held by him. Your back was pressed against his chest and his fingers dug into your waist to keep both of your balance. His breath hit the shell of your ear when he asked in his sexy voice are you alright. Your heart was beating so fast for him. You swear at that exact moment his mom knew what you were thinking.

You childishly filled several notebooks with his name on every page with little pink hearts and his handsome face became a reoccurring figure in your dreams at night. It’s cliché to fall in love with your best friend’s brother and sadly it’s not how the romance novels you like to read portray it where you fall but he falls harder. No –

That daydream ending doesn’t come near you at all.

So you write your own books instead where you magically fall in love with Jin and he reciprocate your feelings.

Jin never had a girlfriend after he ended things with his last one three years ago. He mostly dealt with his heartbreak by the time you started developing your feelings for him but the timing never seemed to be right to tell him how you feel. It felt like you were longing for someone’s love and attention whose heart isn’t available yet.

You did not dare to speak up.

Sometimes you can’t help it. Hope flares in your heart. His intentions are pure but you can’t help but put more meaning behind it as you see fit. You could chat about your days during dinner and sometimes his thumb wipes some sauce from your lips and your heart flutters. He asks if you want to hang out with the boys at the bar and his hand is on the small of your back guiding you to the table between busybodies. You shiver from the cold wind at night on your way home from bowling with your friends and his jacket is neatly laid on your shoulders a moment later. Small details that probably mean nothing to him whilst it’s everything to you.

There are times when you could picture yourself next to him, holding his hand and kissing his lips. You try not to let your delusions surface often. It’s too draining mentally. Left with disappointment in the end when he goes on a date or brings someone home for the night. The illusion shatters.

The brightest light burns out the fastest as they say. One day you’re filled with hope other times reality comes to you like a trainwreck. Some things are not meant to be and it’s probably you and Jin. Blah. Blah. Blah. You could talk about this forever if you had the time.

You spend most days outlining your plot holed up in your room. Keyboard smashing as you fly over the estimated word count.

Who knew that unrequited love could give you so much inspiration?

Writing and editing until your eyes dry out and your nose bleeds are how masterpieces are created in your opinion.

Living between the pages of your book certainly feels better sometimes than real life. Caffeine and food are your new lover at least they can’t hurt your feelings. You can hear the front door open and close from a distance when the apartment is enveloped in complete silence. It’s midday. He’s usually nose-deep in his work by now. If not he helps old ladies to cross the street or save kittens that got stuck on high trees aka living the life of an angel. So what is he doing at home? You hear keys clinking and a heavy sigh followed by sluggish footsteps.

Your typing ceases as your fingers hover over your keyboard as you listen. Should you greet him? He could be having a hard day.

Seokjin’s a polite and friendly roommate as you got to know him. He treats you like a good little sister. You don’t like it but you don’t have the confidence to raise questions about it. He’s a homebody just like you but likes his hangouts every-now-and-then. He’s neat and domestic honestly, the best roommate you had so far. A popular restaurant owner downtown who is not only sought out because of his looks but also because of his excellent cuisine. His wide shoulders carry a lot of pressure to do well with his business.

He most likely comes home from visiting the bank. He decided recently that he wanted to make the place more modern and renovate the kitchen and interior. You heard that getting a loan seems to be a bit tricky.

Your mouth waters at the sight of Jin’s broad shoulders in a fitting white t-shirt and some baggy pants. You like his day clothes but you like them especially when he goes casual showing true boyfriend material looks with soft hoodies and plain t-shirts. Even when he comes home smelling like food and sweat you find him attractive. His eye smile melts you into a puddle especially when he catches you making his favourite comfort food after a long day at work.

You ask him today if he needs it and he nods already feeling better after the mention of his favourite muffins. You shoo him out of the kitchen while you start preparing to make the butter and he goes to take a shower before he returns to your side. You don’t need to ask if he had a bad day.

”You always know what I need. It smells amazing Y/N. Can I get a taste?” You try to keep your composure when Seokjin throws his arms around your body engulfing you in a back hug that brings the scent of his body wash to waft into your nose. Your heart is beating loudly in your throat and you’re hoping that the sound doesn’t reach his ears with his chest tightly pressed to you and his chin lying on top of your head. You want to melt into him – melt into the lazy circles he leaves with his thumb on your hipbone absentmindedly but you don’t let yourself completely relax afraid if you show how much you like it you will be too obvious.

The tip of his nose kisses the side of your cheek as you slightly turn in his direction holding up your spoon for a taste just like he asked.

”Hmn. Tastes good.”

Your entire body freezes up when he moans into your ear (fucking moans) and your panties dampen by the sheer sinfulness of the sound. Fuck. He’s going to be the death of you.

”S-Set the table, will you?” You hope he doesn’t put two and two together by the tremor in your voice. You’re his baby sister’s best friend there’s no way he would look at you the same way as you are looking at him.

”Sure. Finish up buttercup.” He squeezes you for a moment longer before he lets you go and steps back. Laughing at his own joke. The cold air that rushes back now that his body heat is gone makes an involuntary shiver run down your spine. He doesn’t notice any of your odd reactions. Thankfully. Seokjin skips into the living room like normal carrying two plates with him and forks.

The muffins are almost done.

”My publisher is hellbent on making me write about love. I was thinking of showing how friendship is important in my next book. You know have a somewhat action-based fantasy story as the protagonists meet with strangers and become friends along the way while going through hardships together, something similar like that. I don’t want to write a cute love story when I haven’t got a real boyfriend in ages. I know it wouldn’t be genuine and I would hate to let my readers down.”

At first, you asked about how his day was going but somewhere along the way he asked about your visit to your publishing company today and you had to rent about it. Jin listens to you carefully even though he has his own problems to solve. You don’t try to dwell on it long since you want to comfort him instead.

You know how passionate he is about his job and how he loves cooking and now he’s placed in a tough situation. You don’t have the time to worry about your nonexistent love life.

”You could never let your readers down Y/N. They love your books.” You place your fork down and reach over to grasp his hand in yours impulsively but Jin doesn’t mind. You want to intertwine your fingers so badly with his but you hold back he’s not yours to hold. You hate to see him upset like this. The snack is long forgotten as you both stop eating.

”You can still do it.” You’re confused for only a second before Jin elaborates. One hand goes over his hair ruffling the locks and making a mess.

”You could always try and meet someone.” Okay. Ouch. It’s true but hearing it from him is even more painful than the normal jabs you get from your best friend regarding this matter.

”I don’t need a boyfriend to write about love.” Because I’m in love with you.

You don’t offer him much more after that and he lets it go after a while when he realises you won’t budge on the subject. This is not a topic that you want to discuss with him either.

You’re working on something but that’s not how you pay your bills. Simple romance doesn’t pay as much. It’s written porn you write to your secret fanbase that Jin doesn’t know about on a site. You have a secret job that only your best friend knows about. You write smut on the internet and you have plenty of followers who tip you generously for your thirst posts.

Your popularity is all thanks to the built-up sexual tension because you imagine Jin doing those things to you. It will never happen in real life so you write it down and give the guy a fake name. Simple as that. You started your blog to keep your fantasies in one place but people seemed to love your filthy ideas so you kept going under a fake name.

Once you both eat your fill of the sweets you carry the plates to the kitchen. Jin insists on washing the dishes since you baked so you just stand by the side. Jin hums a catchy tune whilst cleaning and rinsing the plates. You always liked listening to his voice. He could be a singer he said he might be in his next life and you both shared a laugh. It’s domestic talking and doing chores together around the house.

This is how everything has always been.

“Your back is arching one hand is placed on your left thigh firmly to keep you open as two thick fingers enter you. You moan and struggle as Jinie’s pillowy lips wrap around your clit his hum travels to your core as he tastes you.

You gush around his fingers that pump in and out of your puffy folds. You want to see him devour you so you keep yourself open with two of your fingers in a v shape. He licks you from top to bottom looking straight into your eyes. He removes his fingers in favour to circle his tongue around your hole and his nose gently rubs on your clit with each lick and swipe of his eager tongue.

”R-Right there. I’m cumming.” Your hands hold onto his hair pulling desperately at the strands when Jin reintroduces his two digits and his lips travel up to suck on your clit. If he keeps this up you’re going to cum on his face. His hips rut against the mattress and his moans add to the pleasure of his tongue mapping out your swollen and sensitive folds. You sound so hot. ”Jin. Jinie. Please don’t stop...” You pull him closer desperately clawing at his wide shoulders as you nearly suffocate him with your thighs. Close. So close. Need a moment and –“

”What are you doing?” You jump in your seat when you hear Seokjin call out to you. You look over your shoulder pausing your writing to take in his form leaning against your doorframe.

You shut your laptop in reflex when he steps closer to see you better, you don’t want him to see what you were up to. You’re self-conscious even if writing smut is not your literal job. You sit with your legs crossed wound up from your words and imagination. He had to show up right before you wrote the climax. You haven’t heard him knock either. Did you get so lost in your head that you did not hear him at all?

”Writing.” You answer ominously.

Jin hums and takes a seat at the edge of your bed close to your little station. He’s not suspecting you at all. You roll around with your chair and face your handsome roommate.

Usually, he doesn’t come and visit you at night. Jin likes to keep to himself when sad to not bring down anyone’s mood so you’re surprised he decided to seek you out. It manages to put you in a good mood. He trusts you enough to show you his vulnerable side.

He looks tired.

You yelp when he rolls you closer to him by grabbing the armrest of your chair his head lands on your meaty thighs so close to your core that it involuntarily throbs. It was just moments ago that you wrote about him feasting on your pussy and this position is not helping to calm down your racing heart.

Jin has no idea what he’s doing to you and you feel bad for ruining the moment with your dirty mind. He’s here to seek your comfort and you just think about yourself. You’re so selfish.

Your fingers card through his hair and he sighs in contentment. ”Can I sleep here tonight?” You almost didn’t catch the words that he murmured into your skin.

”You can.” Your voice is soft as if you’re afraid to disturb the moment. Jin holds you by the waist and buries his nose into your lower stomach. He’s been touch-starved and while he knows it’s not right to touch you like this he can’t help himself. He needs the comfort of your body after a long day. He longs to feel someone’s body heat next to him. You don’t push him away – you never do so he doesn’t stop even when he spoons you from behind lying on your bed listening to each other’s breathing.

You dream of his lips and wide shoulders.

It’s so hot you can feel sweat collecting at your spine and brows as something warm is clinging to you from behind. You can’t get away from the heat something is stopping you from wriggling out of its hold. Your dream-dazed mind needs a minute to realise what’s pressed against you and emits so much heat and when you do your entire body freezes mid struggle.

Right.

You let Jin into your bed last night. He’s like a furnace. You tilt your head backwards careful to not accidentally wake him up whilst you try to make a mental plan in your head on how to get out of this position. His hands are placed dangerously down on your body holding you by the hips and when he squeezes you suddenly you jump a little getting pressed on him more in the process.

Your t-shirt got rolled up during the night till your stomach was not covered by the fabric anymore. His hands are in direct contact with your skin and you can feel his warm touch cage you against him.

You’re outright panicking when you can feel his boner press into your buttcheeks. Sleepiness is long gone from your eyes.

This sounds like the beginning of one of your cheap smut stories. But you swear it’s not. You vaguely remember writing one about two people sharing one bed one of your favourite tropes to write about when they got stranded at a motel because of the weather. Your protagonist woke up just like you with a morning wood rutting against her whilst the boy was still living in a wet dream.

Jin isn’t moving though. He’s just pressed against you. His breath is not laboured at all as relaxed puffs of air hit your earlobe. He’s deeply asleep but his body is certainly awake and ready to nut. If you would be one of your characters then you might have the courage to press back and grind your ass into his cock. He feels big against your rearside even if he’s tucked away in his underwear.

You really want to move but you know you shouldn’t. If he accidentally wakes up you will be in big trouble.

Your attempts to escape are futile. Jin doesn’t let you go out of his hold and your struggle only makes him pull you closer and create some friction between your bodies. You let out a loud gasp when his cock accidentally rubs harder against your ass as you try to get away.

You settle down and wait. He’s probably waking up. His brows are furrowed and his mouth is jutted in a pout.

You let out a sigh of relief when he doesn’t. Looks like he got tired of you trying to get away and disturbing his sleep because he lets you go and turn to the other side of the bed. One of his hands is tucked under his head as he sleeps.

You shouldn’t feel as disappointed as you do when you get up and leave the room to get ready for the day.

You would have loved to feel him rub one out. You would have gladly let him use you but it’s for the best that nothing happened in the end. You leave the house early that morning. You needed some space to calm down and you had to go somewhere anyway. It’s ridiculous how worked up you got just because you felt Jin’s cock against your ass.

What’s even more concerning is that you have no difficulty meeting up with his sister and having some breakfast together.

If she knew what kind of thoughts you have about his older brother. She would certainly kill you but you try to keep these thoughts at the back of your mind for now as you focus on your important conversation. You shoot down another one of her blind date offers as usual at this point saying no is like a reflex to you.

”You like someone else, don’t you?” Your grip on your mug tightens and you look up at her like a deer caught in headlights after listening to her sudden question. At that moment you knew that you fucked up.

”I knew it! Who is it? Do I know him? Did you ask him out yet?” You avoid making eye contact with her as she rambles on and on about your mysterious love interest.

It’s your brother. Yes, you do know him. No, I don’t have to courage to ask him out and I don’t think I ever will.

You answer her in your head but decide against saying any of that out loud.

Instead, you say something even worse for her imagination to run wild: ”It’s complicated.”

”Is it a married man? I promise I will never judge you. You can tell me.” You gasp in horror when she starts speculating, giving you that look again that you haven’t seen since college when you had that crush on that jock from the swim team senior year. They were wet and hot in your defence every woman’s weakness. Everyone who tells otherwise is a liar.

Her hand finds yours on top of the table to console you but you pull away with a disapproving look.

”Oh my god. That’s not it!” You pick up some fries to shove into her mouth before she can speak more nonsense.

It’s annoying how she tries to nitpick everything you say just because you said it’s complicated it doesn’t mean it has to involve a married man or a sugar daddy! It could be worse than listening to her trying to figure out your mystery crush. At least she has no idea it’s his brother that you have secret feelings for. You shudder just by thinking of this morning with his dick wedged in between your buttcheeks.

It’s futile to think about the what-ifs. Nothing would have changed if you decided to stay or not a little longer. You just saved yourself from some awkward conversation where you would be friend-zoned or worse, sister zoned! You’re way past the point of feeling guilty about thinking about Jin whilst you’re with your best friend. You’re not concerned as you get lost in your head. You never really breached the topic with her but you know she wouldn’t be thrilled for you to have the hots for his brother. It’s stupid but her reaction when one of your friends brought up you dating him in the future is still a sore spot. Them. Together? Yikes. Childish, you know it but it still affects you more than you would like to admit. Not that Seokjin would ever return your feelings.

”Are you excited about our trip?” Glad for the change in the subject you let out a relieved chuckle. Genuine excitement showing on your face.

Of course, you are excited!

It’s been ages since you went to Jeju except for that one family vacation and this time it will be just you the girls and the boys – no parental supervision. You yourselves are grownups. Just friends on a summer trip. Everyone has been busy and working hard so some time to unwind will do some good for all of you. It’s also nostalgic as the first roots of your affection towards Jin bloomed on the Island as well. You’re excited to go back now that you’re all mature.

The problems you had back then seem to be minor things compared to what adult life rolls your way as a challenge. You share some excited chatter about the resort she got her hands on. You heard it’s quite spectacular and has a beautiful view of the ocean. You collect your trays when you’re done and head to the mall to buy some bikinis for the trip.

Time always flies by when you’re together and you step into your shared apartment with Jin in the late afternoon with a heart less heavy.

It’s still one of the favourite parts of your day. When you can smell the freshly made food and be greeted by Jin’s smile as he asks you to join him in the kitchen. You move in sync preparing the dishes seamlessly as you know what the other wants. You cooked together so many times but your heart still flutters when he prefers your help in the kitchen even at gatherings.

”You left early this morning.” The knife in your hand halts for a moment but you regain your composure rather quickly. You keep cutting the vegetables in relative silence as you try to come up with what to say and pour the cut pieces into a frying pan to stirfry, acting busy. You didn’t think he would comment about your sudden disappearance. Did he miss you? Was he disappointed when he didn’t find you in his arms anymore? Or. Is he testing the waters? He probably woke up with a boner and was wondering if he made you uncomfortable but doesn’t want to create an awkward situation by asking you outright. Right? That’s probably it-

”I was just getting ready for the trip tomorrow. Jiah and I went shopping. We didn’t have anything to wear to the beach.”

Seokjin acknowledges your words with a small hum as he’s focused on marinating the beef sprinkling it with various spices.

”Can’t wait to see you in it.” His smile is innocent and his intentions are probably as pure as snow so why are you blushing so hard? You and Jin saw each other in swimwear and went to the beach with mutual friends before but your approach the previous years was more cute than sexy. You don’t know what possessed you to go all out this year but Jiah whistled when you came out of the changing room. She said whoever your secret crush is he’ll probably go blind from your beauty so you’re counting on that.

***

”Hey! Nice of you two to finally join us.” You completely ignore Jimin’s jab at how late you are when you get to the airport. Jin rolling both of your suitcases. You don’t offer an answer; you’re all used to his teasing.

Your eyes are only halfway open when you lean on your best friend’s shoulder to support your weight. You’re not a morning person it took a lot of persuasion from Seokjin to get you out of bed.

Your earlier entrance made some of your friends suspiciously giggle and talk in hushed whispers. The fan club – as they like to call themselves. They have been shipping you with Jin since the first arrangements that you become roommates and while you show your disdain every time you secretly love the attention put on you two.

”Cute.” Hanma giggles when she saw you holding onto Jin’s shirt following him in.

He offered you the edge of his shirt to hold onto in hopes that you two won’t separate as you try to make your way to the guys inside the busy airport. He could see that you were still half asleep and he was afraid of losing sight of you in such a big place. He gave you occasional glances and slowed down his steps to match his pace with you.

He never fails to make your heart flutter with sweet gestures like this. He helps you with your luggage and carries your passports to show at the gates. Some might confuse him to be your boyfriend – Jin is naturally nice so always corrects the people politely but your heart sinks every time he smooths over the mistakes of other people.

You’re surprised that he choose the seat next to you and not one of the guys, beating your best friend to it. They played a childish game of rock paper scissors to decide who will sit next to you and in the end, Jin won.

You try to ignore the butterflies when he smiles so widely at you. You live together so you grew naturally closer – at first, you were surprised how people person he was. He was rooming with Yoongi for a long time but when he decided to take a further step in his relationship and move in together with his sweetheart, Jin had to look for another place and your roommate conveniently moved out not that long ago. You always wondered if it was fate. It seemed like a dream and most of the time it was.

You cook together and watch tv. A lot. He coaxes you out of your room to do things like watching his favourite dramas or just hang out and go bar-hopping with his friends. Simple things like that. Many pros but there are cons as well.

You think that you mastered your poker face when he occasionally brings girls home for the night. You never see them again but the fact that the walls are thin and you hear them moan his name makes the ugly head of jealousy roar to life.

You want to be the only girl that moans his name. Not only moan but – hold his hand, laugh at his dad jokes and make him feel good until his toes curl and he loses his mind. You want to be his girlfriend but it’s wishful thinking on your part.

He’s eight years older than you. He never dated younger girls and his last girlfriend was five years older than him. He likes mature older women – not girls like you in their early twenties.

”You’re always together Jin! Don’t think you can steal my best friend from me! She’s mine!” Jiah whines when she loses at the game and you have half the heart to make a peace offering when Jin pokes his tongue at his sister childishly.

Right. Mature.

”Enough. Both of you. I’m not anyone’s possession. Just sit next to each other. Final decision.” They both try to protest but you’re already out of your seat.

You find one empty so you make your way to the back and sit next to Namjoon. Finally some quiet and peace.

He gives you a sympathetic smile and pats the seat next to him for you to take and you do – gladly.

You enjoy his company and he’s been always easy to talk to. He let you cry on his shoulder when you broke up with your first boyfriend that no one knows about. It was messy. It was a secret relationship – not that you two dated for long.

Namjoon is the only one who knows about your feelings and to this day he kept your secret. You have a special place in your heart for Namjoon. You both confide in each other to tell things that you’re not comfortable telling to other people. You’re not the only one with a secret as he had the biggest crush on your best friend for years.

She’s oblivious to his attraction and it’s clear that Namjoon always has her best interest at heart. He doesn’t want to reveal himself in front of her and put her in a weird situation. The things he does for her are subtle – if you didn’t know of his feelings you would probably never pick up on the little things.

In a way, you’re both sitting in the same boat. There are nights when you two secretly hang out and talk about your crushes. It always feels good to ramble about them and get it all out so it’s a tradition by now.

”You can rest on my shoulder.” You hum in contentment his voice is nice and soothing it doesn’t take long for you to go back to sleep resting against Namjoon’s shoulders as he reads his book in silence.

Jin and Jiah bicker for a while – pointing fingers at each other about who was the cause of you to just leave them but quiet down when Namjoon scolds them and emphasises that you have already fallen back to sleep.

You and Namjoon made a promise not to try and get each other’s hopes up but that glance Seokjin shoots in your direction make him think. He’s been pretty much glued to your side and he knows for a fact, that he didn’t have a woman over for a while now. You always complain about them being loud but you didn’t for the last couple of weeks.

Namjoon looks at Seokjin’s approaching form suspiciously.

”Relax I won’t disturb her but she gets cranky when she’s not resting on her favourite pillow.” He lets him cradle your face between his palm softly and carefully place the pillow behind your head.

Jin gets a few locks of hair out of your face and places them behind your ears and a smile makes its way onto his features unknowingly.

”Tell me what you want.” You play with the hem of his shorts. Strong thighs quivering under your careful fingers. Your mouth is stretched into a vixen smile – moan softly when you picture a big fat cock to stretch it out instead.

”W- We shouldn't.” You lightly scoff. His mouth forms the words but his hips still jut when you ghost your touch over his prominent bulge. He wants you. You can feel it. Your gaze is feral as you look at Jin like a meal on a silver platter. He won’t stop you from touching him his mind keeps telling him to stop you but he won’t because deep down he doesn’t want to.

He wants you to whip out his dick and roll your tongue over his cockhead. Taste the precum of his desire. His eyes are blown out and his chest is moving up and down rapidly at the sight of you on your knees between his spread legs. Despite the position, he’s the one that’s wrapped around your pinky finger.

You know that look too well as you caress his clothed thighs running your fingers up and down in a soothing manner. He’s overthinking again.

”I can stop if it’s too much. I want you to feel good Seokjinnie. You don’t have to feel guilty.” Jin jumps when your head rests on his left thigh your breathing is shallow and calm – nothing like the hammering of his chest. His heart works overtime to pump his blood through his veins directing the flow to his cock rather than his head to think.

”N- No. Please don’t stop.” He catches your wrist when you give him some distance. Thinking that he’s pulling out of the situation. It prompted him to finally answer – and it’s truthful. He doesn’t want to stop in spite of everything in him screaming that he should.

His feelings are conflicted but his fingers weave themselves into your messy hair and gather it into a low ponytail. You feel like the forbidden fruit tempting him and leading him to his downfall. It’s only a thin wall separating your bodies from his sister sleeping next door. Unbestowned to the sinful actions of the two most important people in her life. What kind of brother he is to want his sister’s best friend’s mouth on his cock?

His eyes focus on the object of his desire, your lips. Pink and swollen from biting. Your tongue pokes out to slick your lips to glisten and make them more inviting.

”Tell me that you want it. If you don’t you have to tell me now.” Of course, the last thing you want is to stop but this is not just about you. It’s better to stop now than for him later to realise it was a mistake on his part. You wouldn’t be able to handle that if he did.

”I shouldn’t- I really shouldn’t want your mouth wrapped around my cock but Y-Y/N I w-want it so bad.” You hum grazing his inner thighs with your nails.

”You can have it. My mouth is yours to take.” Seokjin blushes but nods. His fingers shake as he undoes his pants and gets his underwear down his legs showing you his hard cock. It’s dripping the pink tip is swollen as beads of precum bubble out from the small slit. You put your mouth around the round head and taste him for the first time –

”Y/N. What is this?” His tone makes you wince. He never talked to you like this before – with anger laced with his tone. His ears are red and his eyes are distant when you keep looking at the floor avidly avoiding his harsh stare that pokes a hole into your head – hoping to gain some confidence to reply. This is your worst nightmare.

Him finding out – nonetheless this way. His reaction twists the knife in your heart even more.

You look over the words on your open computer. Your heart seizes in panic as you look between the hard lines of his forehead and your filthy words – practically telling him everything that you tried so hard to keep as a secret for years.

”I’m s-sorry.” Don’t know what else to say. Seokjin nearly growls and runs his hands through his hair as if it would decrease the humiliation of his finding. His thoughts are all over the place. The considerate boy is long gone when his harsh words pierce through your bleeding heart.

”What are you sorry for huh? Getting caught or writing porn with my name?” You flinch when he drops the laptop on the bed with a loud thud. He was never violent. The thought of you thinking about him that way disgusts him this much?

You’re lost for words as Jin walks up and down in your room trying to calm down. The tears you tried to keep at bay fall freely when his words hit you.

His frantic movements stop when he hears a pained sniff. His glare softens when he sees you cry and he bawls his hands in a fist to keep himself rooted to his spot. His first instinct is to comfort you but he’s still distraught by everything he read.

”Delete it.” This is the only thing he says before he slams the door behind him.

Your soft cries fill the room. He hates you. You should have been more careful. Shouldn’t let him be in your room when you weren’t around. It’s too late for that now. He hates you – he’s probably disgusted by you.

After he stormed out of your room that night you barely have seen him. It certainly put a damper on your vacation plans but you can’t blame him for reacting that way. It makes you sad that he opted for avoiding you all together rather than talking to you about it.

You tried to apologise but he didn’t take too kindly at you for visiting his room so you gave him the time alone that he needed. Namjoon is the only one who you told what happened and he offered to knock some sense into the boy but you pulled him back by his hands to leave it.

Namjoon is a good friend to the both of you and he could understand his reaction but the way he talked to you was not justified.

He kept by your side during the whole trip and you were glad to have some distraction from everything that happened. You were existing in the same room during the activities but he never even glanced your way or addressed you.

It felt like you were invisible that the friendship you built just crumbled like that.

You dreaded the day that you had to go back to your apartment. You tried to hide your disappointment when he asked Jimin to let him crash at his place for a while. You know he will move out sooner or later. It felt like your friendship was unsalvageable at this point.

You even told Jiah that you like his brother. She kept asking about what happened between the two of you. The tension could be cut with a knife and everyone noticed how the two of you drifted apart when before you were almost inseparable. She was shocked and you expected her to yell at you too but to your surprise, she took the news quite alright.

You had a heartfelt conversation while you both cried your eyes out. It felt good to tell her everything despite the situation. Whenever you thought about Jin your heart squeezed painfully. You haven’t seen him for at least a month now. Legally you still shared the apartment but you know he’s been looking for another place to stay. The last time he looked at you was when you were in your room after he discovered your erotic story about him. Jiah was your rock – and Namjoon too.

You could tell that they grew closer because of you, they talked more and hung out without you. You were hopeful that at least they got together in the end. They took really good care of you and you were really grateful for them to help you feel better.

You announced your indefinite hiatus on your blog and while some were noisy the majority of them wished you good luck with whatever you were struggling with. You were thinking of deleting the whole thing.

You buried yourself under work and continued on your real projects.

You were in the kitchen having some late-night snack. What you didn’t expect is for Jin to show up one day at your door he kept fidgeting with his key as he tried to coordinate his movements and slide the key into the hole.

He was flat-out drunk. His eyes are glazed over in a drunkness hue and he is swooning like he could trip over his feet at any given moment. You haven’t seen him act like this ever – he’s completely shit-faced. You want to give him space knowing that the last thing he wants is to see your face so you abandon your snack on the counter and try to leave but he doesn’t let you get too far.

Your eyes grow wide when he pushes you against your door before you could slip away into the comfort of your room. His breath smelled like he consumed a lot of whiskey on his night out and you don’t think your assumption is too far-fetched from the truth.

It breaks your heart that he has to be this drunk to even face you.

”You’re drunk. You should lay down.” You place both hands on his stomach to keep some distance as he sways.

It wasn’t the most coherent but you could get the gist of his words that would awfully sound like: ”I bw-read your blog. All offfff it.”

You look away in shame – ready to hear him yell again but he doesn’t. He forces you to face him with a firm grip on your chin.

”It bwans’t jsut sex. You swaid you likeed me.”

You try to push him away and get some space between you but he doesn’t relent. Who would have thought that he’s so strong while drunk?

”This is something we should discuss while you’re sober. We will talk in the morning. As, if you’ll be still here.” It was pointless to mask your hurt and he could see that. You looked hurt and thin like you were not eating properly.

The empty fridge seems to be a big hint of that. His head pounds from the headache but he could remember everything from yesterday.

You took care of him. Helped him lay down on his bed and even got him painkillers with a glass of water to sit on his bedside table for when he woke up.

He didn’t think about you at all or your feelings until Namjoon beat some sense into him. It was too much and too sudden. He was fighting these feelings and discovering your dirty little secret just made it all blow up in his face.

He was too deep to think about how his words affected you. He knows it won’t be enough to earn your forgiveness but it should be a good start. He makes some breakfast and waits for you patiently to appear.

You come out, blinking away the sleepiness when the view makes you stop in your tracks. You rub your eyes again in case you’re still somehow dreaming.

Seokjin. Standing in the kitchen, cooking. It’s something you haven’t witnessed for the last few weeks – it feels foreign to see him flip a honey brown pancake on their other side. To be truthful after he left you haven’t felt like cooking (it reminded you too much of him – you used to do all the cooking together and it felt wrong to do it all alone) mostly living off of fast food or eat at your friend’s place if they offered.

”You’re here.” It comes out as if you’re in disbelief and – you are. Seokjin was drunk yesterday. You thought it was a mistake that he came home and would surely leave in the morning before you woke up.

You didn’t think he would be here.

”Yes. Are- are you hungry?” He asks carefully as if you’re a wounded animal that could flee at any given moment. He could barely look you in the eye and it hurts. It’s never been so awkward before and you hate that you made it this way. The tension surrounding your body has a strong grip on your throat. It’s your fault that things went South in your friendship. You don’t even know it could be fixed anymore.

”S- Sure.” You take tentative steps into the kitchen and sit down opposite him. He places two servings down and you eat silently with a gaping hole in between. Usually, you would sit close to each other but not this time, there’s no easy banter or laughing either. It’s all so still.

”I- uh so, uh. Fuck, it’s hard. I guess what I want to say is that. I’m sorry.” Jin places his hand on top of yours – you two always used touch as a comforting gesture – but you pull your hand away without thinking. You think you saw hurt flash in his eyes but he looked undeterred in making up with you.

”It’s ok. I should be the one who says sorry. It was improper of me and it will never happen again.” You look away, your moves are mechanical as you slice into your pancakes. You’re not hungry and the food tastes like paper in your mouth. You miss the dejected look on his face while you focus on your plate.

He should have known it won’t be that easy to get things back to where it was.

He hates that you look so defensive and uncomfortable being in the same room. He deserves this reaction. Namjoon’s words ring in his ears like a mantra.

The way he acted and yelled at you was so unlike him. He said things that night that he didn’t mean and regretted. Namjoon told him how it wore you down while he was confused with his feelings – he hurt you badly. You can’t even look at him now and he hates that he did this to you. He misses your smile.

”No, it’s not okay. I’m sorry for yelling I didn’t mean the things I said I regretted saying them the minute I did. I read your blog and- y-you said that you like me. Is it, true?” If you didn’t know better you might think he looks hopeful. But what he said stuck in your head on repeat. [What are you sorry for huh? Getting caught or writing porn with my name?]

”I did.” You settle for that answer for now. Seeing him again and how painful it is to even be in the same house opened your eyes to how wrong it was for you to fantasise about him. You will make yourself stop liking him. This is the only way you can still salvage your friendship. He’s clearly not interested based on his reaction and you couldn’t blame him.

”The past tense means? You- don’t like me anymore? I-Is it because of what I said?” Jin seems nervous and somewhat, disappointed in your answer but you don’t let your mind linger on that for long. This is for the best.

”I want us to forget about this. This is how we could be friends again.”

You get up and leave but there was unmistakable sadness carried in your eyes. Your pancake is nearly untouched you only took two bites and Jin slumps in his chair sighing. He wanted this conversation to play out differently.

It took too long for him to figure out his own feelings. It looks like he’s always a beat late when it comes to you.

Jin cringes when he thinks about your conversation that happened half a day ago.

”That sucks man but at least now you’re on speaking terms again.” Seokjin sighs. He half-heartedly agrees because he did move back into your shared apartment but it’s far from how it used to be. You’re distant. No more cooking together you don’t even watch shows together on the couch after your late-night writing sessions.

If he’s not going out of his way to see you he bet you wouldn’t even leave your room. You’re only a door away but it feels like there are oceans between you now.

You said you’re working on your book and he knows it’s the truth because your blog is deleted by the time he tries to check it out again.

You meant it when you said you want to forget about the last couple of weeks and while you pretend it never happened – it’s clear that it still bothers you. You’re avoiding him. Even in friend outings, you’re barely speaking to him and choose the seat farthest away from him. Everyone noticed the shift in your dynamics but no one dares to comment on it. Namjoon advised him to give you time, you’re probably just feeling embarrassed and he couldn’t blame you when he reacted that way. The things he said – he wishes he could just turn back time and take a deep breath instead.

He felt betrayed when he first saw your writing and he felt embarrassed that people all over the world read about sexual things with his name in it he replayed what happened at the hotel numerous times and he regrets everything.

Ever since he played with the thought of you and him in the same sentence it became clearer that he could actually picture it happening. Too bad he’s weeks late and now it seems like you will never open up to him again.

”Barely. She’s still avoiding me Joon.” Namjoon finds his older friend’s pout comical.

”Clearly since you’re out drinking again. You know that if you get drunk it doesn’t mean the situation will solve itself.” Of course, he knows it. Jin annoyingly sighs again and Namjoon has to bite his lip to not tell him to stop whining and instead do something about it.

”I’m just so lost about what to do.” Jin swirls his drink looking intently at the bottom of his whiskey in case the key to his problems will be somehow buried under the fifth cup of alcohol.

”Well – did you try to apologise?” Jin snorts. Namjoon could barely hear his answer murmured under his nose. ”Of course, I apologised that was the first thing that I did.”

”Did you explain to her why you reacted that way? That you given it a thought and you would like to try something if she’s still interested? Did you tell her that?”

It’s the following silence that has Namjoon shake his head in disbelief. For the first time since he arrived, Jin looks up from his drink and looks kinda panicked.

”S- She didn’t let me explain.” Even he knows it’s a poor excuse. The truth is he chickened out. You used the past tense as ‘liked you’ and he felt too afraid to say anything. He was confused for the longest time if what he started feeling after you ignored him was genuine or if he was just missing the normality you two always had. He’s afraid that things will change drastically and he would hate to lose you.

He’s still not a hundred percent sure but he probably never will be all he could do is try and see what happens. That’s life. There’s no guide on how to live your life just like there’s no guide to tell him if things would work out between you two. Things are already not normal between you. Even if he hates to admit it he wouldn’t be able to go back to just being your friend anymore after knowing the truth about your feelings. He just needs to take a leap of fate and hope for the best. It’s also easier said than done.

”You need to try until she listens. She deserves an explanation Jin. As I see it she probably avoids you so you couldn’t reject her again. She doesn’t know that you’re not trying to do that she only goes with the assumptions your little outburst created in her head. The only way you can fix your relationship with her is, to be honest. Tell her how you feel. She’s not a mind reader you have to spell it out for her to understand.”

Jin knows Namjoon is right. The question is what he’s going to do about it.

Jin also knows this is not the best time to initiate this conversation but he decides to knock on your door after standing in front of it finally done contemplating.

Your eyes are tired but widen when you see him and while your lights are off your laptop gives off a light behind you that indicates you are still awake. It's 3 in the morning.

Jin smells like alcohol again, but he doesn't seem as hammered as when he first came home. He almost looks painfully sober.

"Did you just get home?" Unsure what to say you ask carefully. Your fingers grip the door until your knuckles are turning white. You're wearing black shorts with a tank top and you're clearly not wearing a bra as Jin can see the outline of your breasts.

Realising his mistake, he focuses back on your face thanks to the dim lighting of the place you didn't notice how he was ogling at your chest a moment ago.

Even after talking big to Namjoon not an hour ago in the bar about how he's going to confess to you being in front of you makes the words escape him and lose all confidence he had left. You look so pretty in his eyes dressed in casual clothes.

The worst that could happen is hearing your rejection. Jin wouldn't blame you after all he said and done. However, things can't go on as they are now. The distance is killing him and he hates how you avoid his looks or touches when it was welcomed before.

"I want to talk to you about something. Can I come in?" He gets it out after some silence and you seemingly contemplate accepting it. It's late and he is drunk. As if he could read your mind he's quick to assure you he didn't have that much tonight. He wasn't even out for that long.

"Alright, come in." You sigh tiredly and you step away to let him in. You don't want to have this conversation right now but you know that Jin is stubborn and it's best to hear it now than prolong this painful thing you have going on. You hate this, it's awkward you don't know how to react to his words or how to move according to his touches. You're ridden with guilt thinking that you created this situation but also angry with Jin. After avoiding you for a month he's back and acting like nothing happened between you.

You motion for your bed for him to sit and you take a seat on your rolling chair. You keep sitting opposite him when before you would always sit beside him but he doesn't say anything as he's the only one to blame for this. Of course, you're heartbroken and angry. Jin is very bad when he has to confront someone or a situation but he needs to do that or else he might really lose you forever, if you haven't already given up on him but he still has hope that you will say yes.

"I know I said this before but I'm really sorry for hurting your feelings. I don't even know what I was thinking but what I'm sure about is that after not seeing you I started to think about you more deeply. I never thought about you that way I admit it but after constantly thinking about you I think I actually like you." His words are not the best to express his thoughts but he hopes you can interpret them in a good way. Your expression is not that bright so he tries to help the situation while mumbling more words.

Trying to make things right desperately.

"If you're only saying that to..." You don't have to try and finish your sentence before he's quick to correct it.

"No! Um, no. That's not it, I'm not just saying it because I want to smooth things over. I miss being with you. I miss you so much and I hate that you avoid me now even though I know I deserve it. I'm sorry Y/N, I'm really selfish. I want to have your love again even after I said that. I know I am late but I swear if you give me a chance I'll try my hardest to make you fall in love with me again." You're too stunned to react when he suddenly gets on his knees to beg for forgiveness as his last attempt to convince you. Jin clasps your hands and squeezes them.

"J-Jin." He doesn't let you pull away as he holds your hand against his cheek. "You can stand up." You put your other hand on his shoulder feeling weird about seeing him on his knees. You didn't have time to fully grasp what was happening.

If he did this two months ago you would be over the moon. Is he saying what you think he is saying?

"I won't until you forgive me. Y/N please." You feel pressured but on the other hand, you still have those butterflies in your stomach. You don't think he will let up if you ask him for more time to consider so you silently consider your options now.

He did hurt your feelings but you know Jin would never lie to you. You believe that what he said now is the truth. If he truly considered your feelings and feels like giving it a try with you. You could take one and give your heart a chance.

This time you won't need to hide it anymore. Your friendship cannot go on as it is - and even if in the end it doesn't work out you could at least say you tried your best.

"Alright. I will forgive you Jin." You cup his face with both hands. Jin looks up at you with a silly smile at seeing your expression soften and he pulls you down for a puppy kiss.

It's nothing but lip on the lip but it's finally happening. Jin is kissing you.

You smile into it before it can deepen but neither of you minds it. "Are you going to get up now?"

You help him up after he nods. He lets out a little laughter feeling good after you accept his confession. Both of you just stare at each other after that in the middle of the room unable to move.

"Good night Jin." Unsure what to do you think it's best to leave things at that. It's almost 4 am. Seokjin can sense your hesitance even though you cleared your feelings it's clear that you don't know what you're allowed and not allowed to do.

"Can I stay? I missed you a lot." Jin pulls you close by holding onto your waist. He can feel it on his skin how your heartbeat accelerates as he closes the gap. He kisses your jaw and your fingers tighten around the material of his shirt.

"S-sure." Unable to resist his charms you agree to sleep together. While Jin goes to change his clothes and shower you tidy up your room a bit. You're already under the covers when Jin comes back. The last thing you feel is how he kisses your cheeks and whispers a good night before you close your tired eyes enveloped in his warm arms.

The next time your friends gathered you showed up with Jin hand in hand. After the initial shock wore off everyone congratulated you and Jin on your newfound love. Some things changed but some aren’t. He’s still as sweet to you as ever, you cook together watch movies and talk late into the night but your relationship now has a bonus that you were unable to experience in your friendship. The kisses.

When you’re talking with your friends he sometimes kisses the top of your head pulls you close to his side or holds your hand under the table. Just some subtle romantic actions but they make your heart flutter. There are times when Jin comes home from work and you greet him with a sweet peck. Sometimes it grows into a makeout session. With you on his lap and your fingers in his hair feverishly exchanging kisses on the couch. Or when you’re getting ready to bed he pulls you close under the covers and kisses you until you’re breathless.

Today is one of those days when you two get carried away with the kisses. Jin had a stressful day at work. Some people complained that the food was bad and he had to smooth things over when a waiter got into an argument with a customer. The first thing he did when he got home was hug you close and breathe in your calming scent. You could tell that something was bothering Jin but you hugged him back and offered him your comfort. You didn’t think things would get this heated.

Jin suddenly kissed you like you were the air that he desperately needed to survive he hungrily started to devour your lips until they got swollen and pink. Before anything could escalate you always find a way to stop. If Jin initiates the make-outs then you always put an end to it before the clothes could get unbuttoned.

Jin read the blog and read all about your fantasies so he knows you’re not particularly shy or innocent. At first, he just thought you were not ready and he wanted to wait for you so he never mentioned anything but now he thinks differently. He heard you one morning when he had to come back for his keys when you thought he left for work you pleasured yourself in your shared bed he could hear you moan his name. You always stop before anything could get too heated and he thinks it’s because you’re afraid to initiate anything sexual not because you don’t want to but because you’re afraid to appear too needy.

Today he’s not letting you get away.

He stops you from getting up from his lap. Jin knows that you can feel his bulge underneath you. Continues his kisses down your throat to your collarbones that poke out from under your t-shirt. Your fingers grip his wide shoulders as you try to remain calm, small sighs escape you as he keeps peppering your skin with his wet kisses. You want to roll your hips to get some relief but you’re afraid you wouldn’t be able to control yourself anymore if you did. This is exactly what Jin wants though. He pulls you impossibly close bucking his hips up to you with a firm hold on you he rubs his clothed cock between your legs until you start to soak his lap. Pushing his tongue into your mouth he swallows your needy sounds but he’s no better at keeping his voice down. The small whimpers that escape only fuel your arousal. You swear he knows what he’s doing to you. You try to get away before it gets too much but Jin desperately clings to you as if he reads your mind he opens his mouth to protest.

“Don’t stop please.” Jin continues to guide your hips pushing you against his fully hard cock he wants to take it out already but he holds himself back. His doe eyes meet your half-lidded ones as he chases the friction he craves.

You bite back a moan when you take in the sight under you. He’s so perfect. He holds onto you tightly like he’s afraid you will disappear. It feels like your concerns were unfounded after seeing the unlimited desire in his passionate eyes. You were afraid to have sex with Jin after what happened before. You thought he thought you were dirty after writing sex scenes with his name. It seems like you were wrong. He doesn’t think you’re dirty or undesirable it’s clearly written on his face what he wants.

You relax into his embrace and kiss him lovingly. You want to give him everything he wants. You put your hand above his heart you can feel how his heart beats fast under your palm getting under his spell you continue your journey down his stomach until you catch the side of his waistband and play with it. You explore further your kisses reach his neck your teeth and tongue create dark marks on his skin as your fingers palm him over his clothes. Jin’s hand tighten around your waist he lets out his sounds freely appreciating the care and attention you willingly give to him. Molding against your body he becomes putty in your hands.

“You’re so pretty Jinie.” Shyness blooms on his face at your compliment he buries his face into your shoulders moaning when you increase your hand movements. He’s getting so worked up by your little touches. Your tongue darts out to lick a long stripe up his neck lastly pulling his ear between your teeth. “My pretty baby is getting close? It feels like you’re about to burst. You won’t let anyone else touch you like this right? Only I want to see you like this.” You grab the side of his face with one hand forcing him to open his eyes and look at you.

Your fierce gaze makes Jin gulp down the accumulated saliva in his mouth. He opened it to answer but he could only let out his moans. It’s hard to form a coherent sentence when your hand rubs him so well. You won’t let him get away with it as you push your thumb into his mouth and press on his tongue. Jin can only whine as your finger gets coated in his saliva his eyes stay unfocused as you rub harder. He feels this incredible tightness in his lower stomach signalling his approaching end.

“Tell me that you’re mine and I will let you cum. Be a pretty boy and say it.” Your fingers leave his mouth so he can tell you. He tells you with tears glistening in his eyes the pleasure is too great to handle as he comes in his pants.

“Yours, only yours.” He pants whines and whimpers his whole body shakes as you guide him through his orgasm.

“My Jinie.” You kiss him swallowing his noises. His heart skips a beat your possessive side only adds to your appeal. He never heard you talk like that you say the most sinful things and he loves every second of it.

He doesn’t have time to feel embarrassed about cumming in his pants as you keep devouring his lips your desire growing bigger as you get frustrated as you’re soaking wet and didn’t do anything to relieve yourself.

You only pull away to get rid of your clothes. Seeing your naked body Jin feels the blood leave his head and travel down to his cock. Getting harder again. Jin parts your folds with two fingers his lips are on your neck tasting your skin as he works your pussy. You’re so wet his fingers glide on your sensitive skin easily. One finger sinks into you while his thumb keeps rubbing your clit eliciting sweet moans from you.

You clamp down on the finger inside getting close to your release. Your face is tucked into his shoulders. Jin watches as you ride his fingers slipping a second one inside at the same time you pull him out of his pants and wrap your hand around his shaft.

You kiss and moan into each other’s mouths building a steady rhythm together. You stop his fingers before you could cum around them.

“Want you in me.” Jin nods eagerly pulling your hips up until your opening is aligned with his tip. You sink down slowly feeling each vein and twitch of his cock as it gets buried inside your wet heat.

You ride it fast and deep chasing your end that got denied before you didn’t need much to reach it. It took some swirls of his finger on your sensitive clit to pulse around his cock and milk him with your release. The wetness provided an easy glide Jin could guide you up and down his cock easily until he cums deep inside you a few minutes later.

“You feel so good.” You smile into the kiss. This was way better than your imagination. Kim Seokjin. Jin or Jinie shortened for friends and family. Your bestest friend’s older brother and your current roommate of nine months, nine hours and – a brief look at your wristwatch – twenty minutes and now your new lover.

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