#I was only 2 semesters away from graduating!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yoonmetogether · 4 months ago

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Not In the Cards ch. 1 Play Nice

pairing: bodyguard!Yoongi x CEO!fem reader - brother/mob boss!Jin, brother/mob boss!Jungkook genre: mafia, e2l, sloooooow burn, age gap summary: As you and your brothers finalize the plans for the next chapter in the family business, you end up discovering things that you didn't expect. And upon meeting the man assigned to guard your life, you think the universe must really have it out for you. And you don't like it. Not one bit. warnings: angst, arranged marriage, drug addiction/rehab, family drama, parental loss, age gap, alcohol, smoking, mentions of speed racing, crime, drugs and weapons trading, night terrors, ptsd, guns, reader has a knife (and an attitude), character death minors pls dni wc: 19k buckle up, folks!!!

teaser l prologue l ch. i play nice I prelude. strangers 1/2 l ch. ii I

You make a mocking face at your phone, specifically the social media app that shoves pictures in your face of your university friends opening up their architecture firm that you were meant to be a part of. Good for them, you think sourly to yourself. You would be happier if you were there with them, before your dreams and plans to settle down in one place were foiled.

It’s been almost a year since they were, right before you finished up your second to last semester of grad school when your brother called to tell you that your father had died.

Your father, who never looked you in the eye. Your father, who you spent too much of your childhood vying for his attention, especially as a teenager, around the time he started to pay more attention to Jungkook. Like when you purposely flunked classes, hoping he’d care enough to yell at you to do better, only for Jin to show up to teacher meetings in sunglasses and a mask but the disappointment wasn’t hidden underneath. Or when you went around shoplifting with your friends and got caught by mall security, wishing he’d be the one to show up and get you out of trouble. But yet again, Jin came in another disguise, and the disappointment was the same. He knew what you were doing, but didn’t have the heart to tell you it wasn’t worth it, because your father would never care. He barely acknowledged your existence.

So, at the news of his passing, you felt nothing. That was until you realized that it meant everything would fall on your brothers’ shoulders. And suddenly, you became a part of the very thing Jin worked so hard to keep you away from. Your duty and prospects became that of carrying out your father’s legacy. Before you knew it, you were set to be engaged to the son of a casino owner, so that you would take over the casino in the city your brothers ran, streets filled with crime and money fueled by Crow blood.

Kim blood. Dirty blood. Your blood.

Over the summer, you finished up your last semester, rushed through six classes in order to complete all of your credits. You honestly don’t know how you pulled it off. Three weeks before you were scheduled to graduate, Jin called, bearing the bad news that Jungkook had relapsed and was back in rehab, so you needed to come home right away. You didn’t get to walk the stage. And you certainly couldn’t give the school an address to send your diploma to. So everything was lost in the wind.

Jungkook was still in rehab by the time you got a ring shoved on your finger. None of your friends know about the engagement. Granted, none of them can even be invited to the wedding. You can’t even tell them where you’re living now.

You probably will never speak to them again.

Locking your phone and dropping it in your lap, you sigh dramatically as you look out the window at the cloudy weather, the rain that pours on the windshield, the thunder that rumbles from above. It’s been cloudy a lot lately. Or maybe the gloom that’s been sitting in your chest ever since you got engaged has made everything around you seem dull and gray. Even your house is decorated without color, thanks to your minimalist fiancé who has no taste for style. He thinks as long as things are expensive, they’re worth having even if it’s all fucking ugly. Your fiancé didn’t care for your opinion when he picked out the house and furniture, despite the fact that you just graduated with a minor in architecture.

You’re just glad he picked a spot in the woods, right outside of the city.

You’ve always had a talent for decorating, handing it off to the fact that you’ve moved so many times throughout your life, having to buy new furniture since you couldn’t drag it everywhere you went. You became the queen of thrifting. As long as you had your keyboard, favorite posters and plushies, you were good. You took care to make your place your home, a reflection of you and your interests in order to keep you grounded, help you feel like you belonged somewhere, even though you never stayed in one place for too long. Jin preferred it that way, felt it was safer. But it meant you couldn’t have normal friendships or relationships because they wouldn’t keep in touch if you dropped out halfway through the year to transfer to a university in an entirely different place, sometimes a country. It was very destabilizing, and it made things equally lonely, and your brother tried to make up for it by wiring you substantial amounts of money for you to use freely, but responsibly.

You never touched that money. Because how could you as a college student, who worked part-time, low wage jobs, explain the luxuries that your brother’s money could afford? The money that could pay for a few hundred thousand parking lots of the most expensive and rare cars, at least five cities worth of houses, maybe even feed a small country, much less your tuition and rent. No, you would get by on your own. Sometimes you found yourself at a poker table, often dabbling in an underground gambling ring because that’s where you could make the most of your money. (You couldn’t bring yourself to go to a casino. It would make you think of Jungkook and how much he was struggling). Who would expect a young girl who looked like she got lost on her way to a club to be any good at placing bets? It’s not your fault you grew up around brothers and friends who taught you how to play cards, molding you to have phenomenal skills in seeing through people and their tells, that they gave themselves away through their eyes. You learned how to pull off the perfect poker face, faking being naive and innocent, got them to fall in your trap and leaving them in shock when you walked away with fat wads of cash in your pocket. You guess that made you a hypocrite.

But there were times when you ran out of money and had to choose between paying a light bill or buying groceries, and you found yourself considering withdrawing from those offshore bank accounts, but you knew once you started, you wouldn’t stop. So, you would end up eating the best meals of your life in a dark and cold apartment, sitting alone with the guilt of knowing your brothers would be hurt to think you were ashamed of them.

That guilt still lingers, especially now that you’re riding in a tinted SUV, lavish seats and custom interiors, materials and technology not found in cars of the average citizen. You're well out of the bounds of average by now. You don’t feel like you belong even though your brothers are in the exact same boat.

“Is everything alright?” Mr. Han asks from the driver’s seat.

“Yeah, just..." you sigh, each breath you take doing the opposite of calming the anxiety racing in your veins. "I was supposed to be managing this architecture firm with my uni friends by now, working on biophilic design that connects spaces with nature and all that.”

You hope you're hiding your bitterness better than you think, remembering how excited you’d been to finally do something you were passionate about and how quickly the ball was dropped on that.

"That sounds interesting. Maybe you can incorporate some of that at the casino when you’re doing the renovations."

"Mm. But I don't know if my future father-in-law would be down to have a bunch of plants and windows all over the place." Mr. Han laughs. "Well, if you're the one in charge once you’re married, I don't see why not."

You smile, grateful for his support, but you know as a female CEO among a board of directors and investors that are majority men, you will only get so much leeway. But you'll have to make do with what you have. You’re an expert at this point.

"You've done a good thing by coming back to your brothers now that things are complicated." "I just... I don’t know if I can do it. Y’know. The other part."

That part being the real reason you're getting involved at the Stay Gold casino: to take care of business that belongs to your family. Not just supervising the renovations, or overseeing the slot games, blackjack and roulette tables, but keeping a tight chokehold on the money that flows in and out of all that gambling. Money that serves as a front to what you'll be taking care of behind the scenes. Essentially, you'll be a loan shark. And that's what's been keeping you up at night, knowing what comes with ensuring certain associates make their payments in timely fashions, especially if they're buying protection. At least you’ll be putting your business degree to use. "You are just as smart and tough as your brothers, if not more. You'll be able to handle it, I have no doubts, Miss Jeon."

But I’m not like them, is what you want to say, but shouldn’t because it would be a lie.

"Thanks, Mr. Han. And you know you can call me Angel.”

"Of course. I'm always here if you need anything."

And you know he means it but it's a small comfort. Mr. Han has been your brothers’ driver for as long as you can remember, always so kind and considerate, making you wonder how a man like him ended up in a job like this. When you found out you were going to have to be chauffeured around, you weren’t exactly ecstatic because you love to drive, love the freedom that comes with it, but you figured with Mr. Han, it wouldn’t be so bad.

The SUV drives through an underground tunnel, leading into a narrow road surrounded by a forest that takes you to the gated driveway of your brothers’ extravagant mansion. Mr. Han cracks open the window to speak with the armed guard who then waves to someone you can’t see and the iron-gates buzz open. The tires slowly rumble over the cobblestone, past the grand and meticulously landscaped lawn with many guards littering the property, up to the roundabout in front of the house where there's a tall, sharp-jawed, and suited guard waiting for you. Yeong, the (devastatingly handsome) man who’s been assigned to escort you whenever you show up to meet with your brothers. He opens the door and greets you politely as another guard appears from the back of the car. This one doesn’t say anything as you get out, and you’re glad because you’ve never seen him before and you don’t like interacting with any of your brothers’ men whom you haven’t met. You remind yourself and your constricting throat that these men work for your family, and you’re safer with them around than not. But still. You hate being followed and made to feel like you can’t go anywhere by yourself.

Before you can make it to the porch, your brother enthusiastically swings open one of the large double doors, quickly beckoning you in and shutting the door. As you step in and shuck off your shoes, you notice the indiscreet way he gives your outfit a onceover, like he’s never seen you in sweats before.

“Well, you didn’t have to get all dressed up just for us.” You glare at him, lifting your middle finger.

“Shut up, Jin. Just because you sleep in your suits.”

“That’s Jinnie to you,” he says through puckered lips, squishing your cheeks. “C’mere.”

He pulls you into a strong embrace that you weakly pretend to fight off.

“Missed ya, kiddo.” Taking your coat, he kisses the top of your head, and you mumble similar sentiments into his chest with a small smile that quickly turns into a scowl when he roughly rubs his knuckles into your hair.

You push him away and scurry towards the dining room, stomach growling at the wonderful smells emanating from the kitchen. If there’s one thing you’ve missed now that you’ve moved out (again), it’s Jin’s cooking. Your brothers too of course, but that’s a given.

Jungkook is there sitting in his spot, to the left of the head of the table, already eating. It looks like today is one of his good days, and you find yourself smiling. He's eating his food and not just picking at it, the bags under his eyes aren't as prominent, and his hands are steadier than usual.

"Hey, loser. You couldn’t wait for me?" you say to Jungkook as you sit across from him.

“You’re late,” he mumbles, mouth full of food, glancing at you as he chews. “Is that why you look like shit?”

“Funny, ‘cuz I dressed up like you today.” You stick your tongue out at his glare, becoming distracted when you notice something at the corner of his bottom lip.

“What is- oh that’s a stud. I thought it was a big ass zit.”

“Piss off.” He waves your hand away when you tease poking at the metal ball.

You live for bullying your brother, even though he’s two years older than you. He was pretty mean to you as a kid, so this is just payback. Sure you were annoying, but what are little sisters for? At the end of the day, you know he’s your ride or die, just like you are for him.

“It’s cute. What’s next, a tongue piercing?”

“I draw the line at tongue piercings,” Jin intervenes, calling out from the kitchen. Him and his supersonic hearing. You snicker and Jungkook just rolls his eyes.

“Any new tats?”

He shows you the additions to his full sleeve and you marvel over the designs that he created, asking the inspiration or story behind each one, always fascinated by his talent. You have a knack for drawing yourself - you wouldn’t have the passion for architecture without it - but it’s never been on the same level as Jungkook’s. Dude can paint museum-worthy landscapes and portraits within an hour. He’s annoying like that.

When you’re done examining his arm, you sit back in your chair, snatching a morsel of his food on the way and he grabs your wrist in an attempt to stop you but instead stares at your sleeve.

“Wait, this is my jersey,” he says, ignoring the way you fight to wrestle out of his grip. “I’ve been looking for this!”

“So what? It looks better on me.” You rip your arm away and you’re already halfway out of your chair just as your brother lunges over the table to grab at the jacket. You spring up and out of the dining room, a shrill laugh escaping when you look back to see Jungkook dashing after you.

You may have grown up with him, thrown loads of rounds in boxing gloves with him, even gotten him into a headlock once or twice, but now he’s built like a bus, and he could bulldoze you down in two seconds flat with no regrets. And it makes you want to scream your head off.

Sprinting into the living room, you clamber over the back of the couch, knowing Jin would kill you if he saw you with both feet on the cushions, but you’re much more worried about Jungkook closing in on you.

“Go away!” you shriek when he leaps over the couch with ease, like he’s a damn gold medalist in Living Room Olympics.

“Give me my jacket!”

“I’ve had this for like three months, how are you just now missing it?” You point out as you attempt to use the coffee table as a barricade.

“I told you to stop stealing my clothes.”

“It’s only because you have such a cool style.”

He pauses to look at you like he won’t fall for your bullshit compliment. You take this lapse as an opportunity to make a run for it into the kitchen where Jin is filling a carafe of water with fresh-cut berries, rushing to hide behind him at the counter like you used to do as a kid. Jin acts unbothered, barely noticing the way you’re gripping the back of his sweater like a lifeline, only looking over his shoulder when you make a noise as Jungkook jogs towards you.

“Cheater.”

"Yah, come on, you two," Jin admonishes as Jungkook tries to grab you, making you hurry to Jin’s right, holding his bicep as if his big guns will protect you.

"He started it."

"Did not!" Jungkook exclaims, and you childishly stick your tongue out at him.

“Give your brother his jacket,” Jin says in a parental tone. “But I like it.” Turning around, your oldest brother levels you with a look that mirrors the one Jungkook gave you a few minutes ago and you know not to argue anymore, begrudgingly shrugging off the jersey and throwing it at your brother who catches it with a victorious smile.

“Come on, kids, let’s go eat,” Jin says as he picks up the carafe and three glasses.

Both hands on your back, Jungkook pushes you and you stumble forward.

“Ow, don’t push me. Jinnie!”

“Big baby," Jungkook mumbles through his teeth.

“Big bitch," you fire back.

Jin clicks his tongue and mutters something under his breath, something about how is it that he has two siblings in their mid-20s who still act like children. And it is pretty interesting, considering you and Jungkook are about to assume control of the fucking mafia. But it’s been years since you’ve played around with your brother, and now that he’s about to take over for Jin, who knows if you’ll ever be able to do this again. The thought creates a bit of a hole in your heart, like digging a grave for something that isn’t gone yet.

Once Jin turns his back, leading the way into the dining room, you and Jungkook exchange various gestures that all silently mean “fuck you.” Jin shoots a knowing glare over his shoulder that makes you both hide your offensive hands behind your backs, forcing yourselves not to laugh.

“Are you two ever going to grow up?”

“No,” you both answer simultaneously. Jin huffs and looks between you two with a shake of his head.

“Sit down and eat before the food that I put my blood, sweat, and tears into gets cold.”

You and Jungkook share an eyeroll at Jin’s drama, digging in so he won’t start some dramatic monologue about cooking.

"So, how are you doing?" Jin asks you a few minutes into the meal. "Fine," you shrug, too focused on the food to give a more complex answer.

"You’re all settled in at the house?"

“Mhmm,” you hum indifferently, feeling your appetite slowly start to slip away. You were hoping you could have a nice, normal night with your brothers, pretending that you aren’t dreading going back to the house, to a fiancé you know next to nothing about and all of the work and unpacked boxes you have waiting in your wing of that big ass, bland ass house.

“How are you two getting along?” Internally sighing, your shoulders deflate.

“He’s not horrible, I guess. But he’s just… I don’t know. Boring. And lame. He thinks his tattoos make him look cool.” You glance at Jungkook and gesture to his sleeve.

“Which is something the two of you have in common.” Jungkook’s lip curls and he points his chopsticks at you and flinches. You blow him a kiss in return that you change to a middle finger.

“He also acts like he’s never been to the grocery store. And I very seriously doubt he can tie his own shoes. His butler does pretty much everything for him.” Just the word ‘butler’ makes you want to throw up, not to mention the fact that you’re about to marry a guy who needs one.

“But things are going okay?” Jin asks just as you shove more food in your mouth. Can’t a girl just eat?

“What is this, twenty questions?”

“I’m just checking in.”

“Okay, but can we not do this right now? Please.” You ignore the way your brothers share a look.

“If things aren’t going well, you need to tell us.”

“Things are going as well as they can for an arranged marriage. We might live on opposite ends of the house, but we’re cordial. You’re not really expecting me to actually like this whole situation, right?” Jin regards you carefully.

“No, but you do need to make sure it all works out.”

Suddenly, you've completely lost your appetite. You scowl and drop your silverware, sitting back in your chair with your arms crossed, refusing to look at them both staring at you.

“God, Jin. I agreed to marry him, didn’t I? Picked up my entire fucking life to come back here and help out even though you promised-” You point harshly at Jin who looks at you with a small frown as his fingers rub on the edge of a napkin. You know it’s not his fault but damn, it hurts that he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

“That I would never have to do that. What more do you want? An heir or something?”

They both wince. “No, of course not.”

“Then lay off my ass about it. I’m fine, okay? Don’t be a helicopter.” “Birdie, I just want to make sure he’s treating you right.”

“What does it matter? I’m stuck with him either way. Besides, I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can. I’m only-” But you don’t want to hear anymore. With a grimace, you pick up your plate of unfinished food, scoot back your chair and stand up to head into the kitchen.

Jin leans forward with a heavy sigh, steepling his fingers, resting his forehead against them and closing his eyes.

"Way to go, hyung," you hear Jungkook mumble as you storm out of the dining room.

Stewing, you put away your leftovers and start to clean up the counters, knowing you’re the one being dramatic now but you can’t help it. This is supposed to be your safeplace, here with your brothers, especially since time with all three of you together is running out. Right now, you want to forget about all your responsibilities, all the things you have to step up to that you never imagined doing, and you wish your brothers would just go along with it. But they’re more realistic than you, it seems.

You hear dishes clink in the dining room, and soon you’re joined by your brothers, all silently working to clean up the kitchen. You pay no mind to their attempts at getting you to lighten up by nudging your shoulders, flicking water in your direction, and taking over the dish scrubbing, and it isn’t until Jin shoves a glass of sparkling cider in your hands just as you try to make an escape to the living room do you lose your resolve.

“I’m sorry, kiddo. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Jin says as he and Jungkook corral you towards the couch.

You huff, fingers rolling on the stem of the glass, swirling the red content inside, and sit on the plush cushion, your brothers on either side of you.

“I’m not. Just- I can’t remember the last time all three of us have been in one place and I don't want to talk about any outside stuff. I just want to pretend that things are how they used to be. Because what if-” A lump forms in your throat.

“What if this is actually the last time?” Jin reaches forward and grabs your hand, a serious line knitted through his eyebrows.

“It won’t be. I promise.” “You’ve always told us to never make promises.”

“Well, I made the rules so I can change them. I am going to come back,” he says, squeezing your hand. “I don’t know when and I don’t know how, but-”

“You know something’s starting right now? Okay, Ariel,” Jungkook cuts in, grinning when you snort and Jin shoots him a scowl, leaning over to roughly ruffle his hair. You laugh at Jungkook’s dirty look when he thinks Jin just messed up his hair and Jin tries to fix it but ends up making it worse and a small hand-slapping fight ensues. This is what you’ll miss. This dynamic, where no matter how hard you all try, you can never be serious.

“Do you think we can go on a trip?” you ask out of the blue, casted by a nostalgic wave longing for memories that make you feel normal.

“Y'know, to the cabin? Just for a couple of days.” Jin smiles, but it’s small. Jungkook doesn’t look at either of you.

Ever since you can remember, any spare time Jin had, he whisked you and Jungkook away to a cabin somewhere in the mountains, never going to the same spot twice. You waited for the days that Jin would show up at the boarding school, make up some excuse to get you both out and drive up to a forest where he would let you both run wild. In the woods was where you learned how to ride your bike and climb a tree, legs swinging from a branch with Jin standing underneath you, arms held out like you’d fall any second. You were too busy yelling at Jungkook to stop throwing sticks and leaves at you from a few branches above. A cool summer sunset by a river was where you caught your first fish that Jungkook ended up chasing you around with for a good five minutes. You screamed at the top of your lungs, Jungkook cackled maniacally, and Jin did his best not to laugh, only grabbing the fish out of his brother’s hands once you began to run around him like a maypole. Later, you got your revenge by shoving the chopped fish head in his face after Jin started cooking. Jungkook cried all throughout dinner and, in your stubbornness, you refused to apologize so Jin made you hold hands for the remainder of the night until one of you caved.

As you got older and Jin got busier, he would allow you to make plans with your friends to go to a cabin in a discreet location, whether that was in the woods or by the beach. You loved your friends, but you always found yourself missing Jin, wishing he was there to cook and make lame dad jokes, play guitar by a fire he started and act out ridiculous stories until you and Jungkook were rolling on the ground with stomachs that ached from laughing so much.

It wasn’t until you were much older that you realized those trips to the cabin were the only times the three of you spent together where Jin wasn’t constantly looking over his shoulder. Sometimes though, he wouldn’t speak for a while, a blank yet morose energy surrounding him that he could only shake himself out of if you and Jungkook poked and prodded him enough. In the woods, he never wore a mask or sunglasses or a variety of hats like he did when he came to pick you up from school. Later down the line, Jungkook had to do that too and that’s when everything started to change. You could no longer see each other unless the location and meeting times were planned in advance, and there were always some men in suits, sunglasses, and dark coats with wires hanging out of their ears accompanying you.

A year after Jungkook graduated from secondary school was when things fell apart. Jin made you promise to never speak about either of them to anyone, and helped you come up with a pseudonym. By the time he shipped you off to study abroad once you started university, you never used your real name and neither did they. From then on, you only spoke to your brothers on the phone, one that you had to pick up at a convenience store and dispose of once you were done. The calls were typically short - Jin asking if you were doing well in school, if you ate enough, had enough money. You rarely spoke with Jungkook, as he spent a lot of time going in and out of rehab, and when he wasn’t doing that, he was learning the family business with Jin. You missed him, your partner in crime, and you wished you could take him with you, keep him away from your father so maybe he could have a chance at healing, but that wasn’t in the cards. Jin explained time and time again, that this was how things had to be. He may have raised both of you, been the reason you were alive and thriving, but he had no control over the circumstances at home. You couldn’t go back, he wouldn’t let you, and for a while, you thought you’d never see your brothers again.

(There was a time when you did go back, but they never knew about it. When you were feeling homesick, you took a plane to Jeju to visit the place where you spent a few summers with your brother and your friends. You spent a few days reminiscing about old times, old friends. It was nice to get away, to feel something familiar for a moment, hang on to memories that you would give anything to relive. But you don’t like to think about that trip anymore. And sometimes you wish you’d never gone back.)

Now you just want to go to the cabin to cling onto the past, of how things used to be, because you know nothing will ever again be the same.

"We can't, birdie. I'm sorry. I have to leave in a few days." And just like that, the wave crashes onto shores of despair.

“What? You said you had until next month.” Your brothers share another look, another tell that they’ve been keeping you out of the loop of something.

“I do, but I think it’s best to leave earlier so it won’t be glaringly obvious that I got tipped on my arrest warrant.”

“Yeah, probably,” you agree dejectedly. “It was just hard not being home all this time, so I wanted us to hang out. I guess I like you guys or something. Weird, right?” “Totally. ‘Cause we hate you,” Jungkook teases. You scoff and grab a pillow to whack him with over Jin’s head. Jin laughs and lets you get in a few hits before tugging the throw out of your hand, whacking the side of your head, and tossing it on the other end of the couch out of reach.

Silence sits between you for a few moments until Jungkook stands, tugs you up on your feet, and shoves his phone into your hands.

He tries to teach you dance moves from Tik Tok trends, laughing a little too hard when you mess up, and Jin ultimately has to break up a small wrestling match. After you finish filming one video that will forever sit in drafts, Jin gets out the game console and wipes the floor with you and Jungkook on Super Mario. He brags loudly, enticing you both to tackle him, but despite your conjoined efforts, he somehow gets you and Jungkook into simultaneous headlocks, not letting go until you profess that he’s the unmatched master of Mario.

Jungkook then puts on his favorite movie, to which you and Jin stifle groans as you’re made to watch Iron Man for what has to be the millionth time. Jungkook just claps giddily when the Avengers theme song blares through the speakers and neither of you can deny this small happiness. It’s good to see him smile. But throughout the movie, you shoot him small glances out of your periphery when you notice him biting his nails and you know he’s zoned out, and that it’s not a good place where his mind wandered off to. You gently grab his hand and push it down, and he goes to cross his arms like he’s ashamed, but you keep hold of his hand, folding them together and resting them between you. Giving your palm a squeeze, he offers you a tiny smile and goes back to fully engage with the movie.

When the credits roll, you tease Jin for immediately yawning and stretching as he announces he’s turning in. You ask Jungkook if he’s up for a game of Overwatch that he starts up without a word and passes you a console.

After a few minutes of playing, Jin emerges from the kitchen with a couple bowls of snacks and bottles of your favorite drinks that he sets down in front of you on the carpet. You both thank him in unison without taking your attention off the game and he huffs an endeared laugh.

“Don’t stay up too late,” Jin murmurs from behind you both, ruffling your hair. “Crazy kids.”

“Night, grandpa,” you smirk, laughing when Jin pushes your head.

He goes upstairs and leaves you to play the game. But every now and then, you glance over to Jungkook, wanting to check in on him. It’s been a minute since you've had a one-on-one.

“You look like you’re doing good.”

“I’m trying,” he mumbles a bit stiffly, eyes unmoving from the screen, and you take in his tense expression.

“That’s all that matters, bro.” You lightly punch his bicep, and he playfully tips sideways. “You know you can talk to me anytime.”

“Yeah.” It doesn’t seem like he wants to, at least not about certain things, but you need him to know that of all the things that are changing, the fact that you’re his kid sister who he can lean on will stay the same.

“I wish I had been home more often,” you say tentatively. “I know Jin couldn’t always be around.”

He shrugs, nose scrunching. “S’alright, I wasn’t alone. D was there.”

You’ve heard about D. How he had Jungkook’s back in a jail fight a few years ago when Jungkook had a habit of lashing out and starting fights to prove he was tough. Which he was but that didn’t matter if he was outnumbered. When he was booked for a DUI (riding on his motorcycle half-drunk like a dummy) and forced to go through withdrawal, it increased his violent tendencies. After accusing a burly man twice his size for looking at him the wrong way, he found himself getting beat up on by three grown felons in the middle of the yard. He would’ve ended up with a cracked skull if it wasn’t for D. And from then on, he became your brother’s guardian angel of sorts and eventually began working for them.

“You’ll meet him tomorrow at dinner.” You hum, mildly disinterested.

Joy. Spending an evening with your brothers’ capos and guards is just how you wanted to enjoy your last weekend with the both of them. Not.

“And, um, we workout at the boxing club every Friday. Maybe you could join us.”

You look over at him incredulously. There was a time when your brother acted like you tagging along with his friends was a punishment worse than hell.

“You mean you want me to box with you?” He shrugs.

“Gotta make sure you can still fight.”

You roll your eyes. Of course you can still fight. You’ve just been able to get out of precarious situations before you had the need to throw hands. For the most part. That’s the difference between you and your brother - he goes looking for trouble while you do your best to avoid it. But neither of you will be backed into a corner and made to stay there. You won’t go down easy.

“So you down?”

“I won’t be getting in the way of boy time with D?” Smiling, he shakes his head.

“Nah. But you could stand to learn a thing or two from him; he’s a damn good fighter.”

“Better than you?”

“No one’s better than me,” he smirks.

“I guess I’ll have to see for myself.” He chuckles and fakes a slow punch on the side of your head.

“You still have that knife I gave you a few years ago?” You think for a moment. Right before you went abroad for college, Jungkook gave you the blade he carried with him everywhere, one that was sheathed in your favorite color and had a strap attached to it. You cherish it, but you’ve never had to use it. But you figure that’s about to change.

“Oh, yeah, it’s somewhere. I didn’t have a lot of time to really organize when I was packing. Why?”

“You should keep it on you from now on. Just in case.”

“You mean you’re not gonna be around to protect me, big brother?” you tease. He shoots you a little smile but when his eyes focus back on the screen, you notice him squint and nibble on his bottom lip for a second. You can’t help the feeling that he’s keeping something to himself.

“Not always.”

You frown. There was a small comfort in thinking that you could rely on him when for years you’ve been apart, but now as new circumstances arise, you don’t know if you’ll be able to see each other as much as you want to. Definitely not enough to make up for lost time.

Just as you’re about to tell him not to worry because you’re a big girl, more of an assurance to yourself, he clears his throat to change the subject again.

“D is really cool, I think you’ll like him.” You offer a mostly sincere smile, thinking to yourself that it sounds as if your brother is trying to sell you on D’s character. You don’t think you’ll care much for it, since he’s Jungkook’s security and all and you won’t be interacting with him much. But you’ll try if it means something to your brother.

“If he’s anything like you, then I doubt it.” His head snaps in your direction and in a fraction of a second, his arm hooks around your neck and pulls you into him, forcing your face into his shoulder so you can’t see a thing.

You fight your way out of his headlock, exclaiming when you notice that he’s beating your ass on the game, and lean on your elbow to press your foot on his cheek in an attempt to distract him, but he only laughs. You complain and cuss him out as he starts winning and reach over to wrestle the controller out of his hands. As you tussle loudly, Jin’s upstairs bedroom door opens and he calls down the hall,

“Keep it down! I need my beauty sleep!”

“You sure do!” Jungkook shouts back, sending you both in a fit of giggles when you hear his door slam shut loudly in response. You come to a truce, if only to save yourselves from facing a grumpy Jin in the morning.

You play and talk into the wee hours of the sunrise, until you slump next to each other and pass out, bellies full and faces covered with evidence of Jin’s snacks that you demolished.

The sky is a gray-blue hue when you’re stirred by your brother talking in his sleep and his incoherent mumbling makes you coo. But just as you go to cover him up with a blanket, he yells out nonsensically, leg kicking over a near empty bottle and sending the rest of the contents into the carpet. His arm shoots up into the air and panic begins to set in when he thrashes around on the floor. After getting the dishes and consoles out of the way, you run up the stairs to Jin’s room, barging in without knocking so you can quickly wake him up. Shaking his shoulder, you stutter out his name and he groans upon being disturbed.

“God, what-” “He’s having a night terror.” Without a second missed, Jin flings himself out of bed and races out of his room and down the stairs, with you following close behind.

Once back in the living room, Jin rushes to Jungkook’s side, who’s now flailing his limbs and shouting but still fast asleep. You watch as your oldest brother gets on his knees, not hesitating to grab Jungkook’s arms, pin them to his abdomen so he can pull him up and against his chest, all while calling his name to try and wake him. Jungkook’s eyes fly open with a gasp and his body reacts violently against Jin’s who almost ends up with an elbow in the chin. But Jin is an expert at handling Jungkook’s episodes, and he knows just what to do to keep them both safe while he gets him to calm down.

“Shh, bunny,” Jin hushes as Jungkook’s body fights him, rubbing his chest and shoulders to soothe. “It’s okay. I’m here, your sister’s here, you’re alright.”

There are visible tears streaming down your brother’s face and you have to sit on the step and cover your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from crying. It hurts so fucking bad to see him this way. It’s been years since the last time you’ve witnessed this, but you know he’s had many in between that Jin has been around for.

“Birdie,” Jin calls to you softly above Jungkook’s sobs. “Go up to my bathroom and get out the lock box that’s under the sink. His medicine’s in there. Grab my wallet too, on the dresser.”

With a solemn nod, you stand and turn around as Jungkook slings an arm over Jin’s shoulder to hide in his neck, and your foot freezes mid-step when you hear him loudly wail again and Jin hushes him, rubs his back, and you hurry up the stairs again to grab what you hope will let Jungkook get some rest, some escape, some peace. You come back down with the lockbox and wallet to find Jin sitting on the couch, Jungkook curled up under a blanket with his head in Jin’s lap, chest heaving as he lays on his side. You approach them slowly, and Jin quietly instructs you to get out a small key from his wallet to open the lockbox, which carries Jungkook’s medicine that helps with his anxiety and parasomnia. You head into the kitchen to grab a glass of water while Jin encourages Jungkook to sit up and by the time you return, he seems to be breathing a little easier. After he drinks down a pill, he lays back down and you hope he’ll be able to sleep without another disruption.

You and Jin watch him for a few moments, and when it finally seems that he’s settled, you share a collective sigh of relief. But still, you’re worried. It scares you to see him that way.

“When was the last time this happened?” Jin looks so tired as he tries not to frown.

“More frequently now that you’re back home. Usually he does better when you’re around but. He feels bad that you’re doing this. He thinks if it weren’t for him and everything that happened, you could’ve stayed abroad and made a life for yourself.”

It’s true. You would never say it to their faces, but it is the truth.

“But… then I would never see you guys again.” Your throat tightens.

“And now that you’re leaving,” you sniff, tears threatening to prick your waterline. “I don’t want him to be alone.”

In the dim light, Jin beckons you over, soft affection in his eyes, and you squeeze in between him and the end of the couch. He wraps an arm around your shoulder and kisses the top of your head.

“You’re a good kid, birdie. Even though I never wanted this for you, for either of you, I feel better knowing that you’re going to look out for each other.”

“Me too, Jinnie.”

He pats your arm and you sit quietly for a few minutes with your head on his shoulder, starting to feel sleepy again, safe and assured by Jin’s embrace. Jungkook is snoring now, the meds must’ve kicked in. He won’t talk about this in the morning, and neither of you will ask him to.

"And, about Jay,” your eyes blink open at his gentle tone. “I was thinking maybe what we can do is send him out on business trips so he's not around as much.”

You smile, arm curling around his thick bicep. “Thanks, Jinnie.”

“Just play nice, okay? It’ll all work out.”

You nod, too tired to let that potential burden add to your stress. Pretending to be completely fine with the engagement is the least of your worries right now.

The venue that Jin chose to host the small get-together of you and his men sits on the private top floor of one of the many skyscrapers he owns that you’ve had dreams of designing. Yeong walks at a comfortable distance behind you, quiet but gentlemanly. Stoic, which seems to be a uniform demeanor among your brothers’ men, one Jin expects you to replicate. You know that’s really your father’s expectation, but he’s gone. You would find it difficult to respect him anyway.

Striding into the dining hall, you pay no mind to all of his henchmen in the room, only giving focus to the one who stands out among them all, and not just because of his looming height and broad shoulders. Nor are you intimidated by the commandeering authority that follows him wherever he goes.

“Jin!” you call, making all heads turn to you but you act as if no one but your brother is here. He twists to face you with that shining smile of his that you know is reserved for a select few.

When you walk over to the table, air hazy with cigar smoke, liquor, and low conversation, you keep your expression polite despite the heat that spreads through you when all eyes fall on you. Yeong is close behind and reaches out for a chair once you approach the head of the table, greeting your brother who stands up from his proverbial throne to welcome you.

“Hey, sis. You look nice,” he says warmly, leaning in to welcome you into your seat and you smile, thanking Yeong who pushes in your chair once you sit. Just as you do, Jin leans in to whisper in your ear,

“You’ve got to get used to not using real names here, Angel.” Pulling away, you cringe and mouth your apology that he dismisses with a singular nod.

“Uh, where’s bro? He always gives me shit for being late.” Jin smiles as he sits back down.

“He’s on his way. He was at the gym with D.”

You nod and take a look around the room, noticing that you’re the only woman. Since your brother is here, you’re not worried, but it does feel suffocating. Is this how it’s always going to be from now on?

“How you doin’, Angel,” a deep voice says on your right, and your demeanor brightens when you glance over to see Namjoon pulling out the chair next to you.

“Oh, hey, Moon! Aren’t you sick of me by now?” You tease as he sits down, heart blipping at the beautiful smile on his face. You’ve been working with him these past couple of months, Namjoon preparing and training you for your role at the casino. Extremely intelligent and well-versed, he’s not your brother’s right-hand man for no reason. He knows all of the Crow’s business dealings like the back of his hand, and you feel confident having someone like him to guide you. That paired with his easy-going and wholesome persona, and the fact that you could chat with him about books and music for hours, you can’t deny your itty bitty crush on him. If only you weren’t engaged and he didn’t have a girlfriend. At least one of you is in a happy relationship.

“Of you? Never.” You ignore the mild warmth in your cheeks and playfully nudge him with your elbow. Damn him and his natural charisma.

“So, are you ready for next week?” Ugh. You don’t like the anchor of dread that wrenches in your gut at the thought of finally becoming an official member of the family business.

“No,” you mumble because there’s no reason to lie to Namjoon.

“Oh, come on. Yes, you are.” Your palms start to sweat and you put the menu down so as to not ruin it.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready,” you say quietly, stealing a glance at Jin to make sure he’s not listening, glad he’s too busy accepting a top-off on his drink.

“You have a mentor as amazing and smart as me, you’re more than ready.” You roll your eyes at his cheeky grin.

“You’ve been hanging around Jin too much,” you mutter and he laughs.

“Well, just know that no matter what, I’ll be right there with you so you don’t have to worry.” That fact makes you breathe a little easier, but there’s still a layer of anxiety underneath your skin. Just then, a slender, vaguely familiar man walks in and heads straight for Jin who does a double take, immediately holding out a welcoming handshake that lingers a little too long once the man accepts.

“Who’s that?”

“Jung,” Namjoon answers with a single glance. You hold up your menu to hide your face as you whisper,

“Agent Jung?” He nods and turns his cheek to utter another reminder.

“Just be careful where you say that.”

Right. You never know who could be listening, so it’s probably not a good idea to mention the man’s real identity in all this. The CIA agent posing as an informant, but really he’s in cahoots with your brothers, covering up their dirty tracks with the occasional bribe of public officials.

“He goes by Hope, but close friends call him Hobi. You could probably get away with calling him that.”

“What’s he doing here?” You can’t help but watch closely the way your brother engages with Hope. His body language is rigid and fidgety, like he’s nervous, but his eyes are soft and wide. Small indications that there’s definitely something going on between the two of them and you’re excited to gossip about it with Jungkook. Because you know all too well how good Jin is at lying.

“Well, your brother wanted you both to be acquainted because the feds might take an interest in you once you take over the casino. He’ll come back to work undercover again if that happens.”

You still as realization takes over, muscles in your face hardening as your heart does a somersault.

“Is that the big secret?”

“What?”

“They’ve been keeping something from me.”

“Um, I’m- I don’t know,” he says in an uneven cadence, and, looking over at him, you notice a slight purse of his lips and realize he’s a terrible liar.

You just got here, but you already need a breather. The cigar smoke isn’t helping either, so you excuse yourself to the bathroom to get some fresh air.

As you rise, Yeong habitually appears next to you, but you place a soft hand on his shoulder, shaking your head to tell him it’s not necessary to escort you out. You internally scream when he looks over at your brother, as if needing his permission to let you go without accompaniment. Jin waves two fingers with a nod, silently dismissing Yeong’s duty and you try not to let that small interaction visibly bother you as you turn away from the table.

The bathroom is empty, thank god, but now you just feel isolated. Especially when you pull out your phone, eager to call up one of your friends and vent, but even if they might pick up despite being on another part of the hemisphere, there’s no way you could tell them anything.

You blink and a face you haven’t seen in a long time spawns in the forefront of your mind, heart sinking when you know he would be the one to call at a time like this but you haven’t spoken to him in years. Not since he had a falling out with your brother and left town shortly after without a word, breaking your heart because you thought you were more important to him than that. But you understood why he left the way he did. You just sometimes wish he could’ve taken you with him.

With no one to call and nowhere else to go, you finish up in the bathroom with a deep breath and a practiced smile in the mirror, rolling your eyes at yourself and heading for the door with a sigh at how fake you look.

When you emerge, your attention is buried in your phone, and you end up bumping into someone in the hallway.

“Oh, sorry,” you blurt, two hands hovering on your shoulders when you stumble back from being caught off guard. You don’t look up right away, gauging from the black fitted suit and long trench coat that this is one of your brother’s men.

“No, my fault,” he says and the gravelly timbre in his voice tickles a part of your brain. Normally you’re good at reading people, sometimes from just their aura, but there’s something about him that you can’t quite place. So you keep your head down.

“Excuse me, ma’am.”

Ma’am? Yeah, he definitely works for your brothers. Everyone who knows who they are, calls them ‘boss’ or ‘sir’ and as their sister, you deserve the same title and respect that comes with it. Another thing you’ll have to get used to. But it still fills you with an odd feeling that you don’t really like, and you excuse yourself, not waiting for him to step out of the way so you can head back to the dining room. As you pass him, you catch the earthy musk of his cologne mixed with underlying traces of mint and something woody and it makes you involuntarily look over your shoulder to see what kind of man wears such a scent, only to find that he’s not there. He disappeared just as quietly as he’d approached.

Back in the room, you smile upon seeing Jungkook sitting to the right of your brother, and you can’t help but go up behind him, playfully smack the back of his head with your clutch, and sit beside him like nothing happened.

“You took my seat,” you say, feeling his glare on you.

“Children,” Jin grits through a smile just as Jungkook opens his mouth to argue. “Let’s not do this in front of company.”

Jungkook huffs in annoyance and opts to pinch your leg under the table, and you hold back a squeal, not daring to retaliate when Jin glares at the two of you over the brim of his glass.

As you turn your attention to the menu, you notice in your periphery Jungkook looking over his shoulder, lifting his hand to someone behind him. When you look back as well, your heart palpitates at the sight of a lithe, striking man with black hair that reaches his neck, slicked behind his ears, and eyes hidden by tinted shades striding towards the table.

“Hey, D,” Jin says to the man as he steps up next to him. “Good to see you.”

So, this is the infamous D.

“Boss,” he acknowledges, and turns to Jungkook to tap his bicep with the back of his hand. “Sorry I brought him late.”

“No worries, you’re just in time to order. Take a seat.” D nods and you watch him slightly lift his chin over Jungkook’s head, no doubt taking a glance at you that lasts a mere second before moving to walk behind your brother and consequently you. Time seems to freeze as he starts to pass you, and although you can’t see his eyes, you feel them lock on you, and your heart does gymnastics before stopping completely.

No way. No fucking way. The man who stands above you can’t be the same man who you shared a night with, years ago. A night that creeps back into your memory after you think you’ve forgotten. And a face that haunts your dreams and makes you miss something you never really had. At least, not long enough to count for something.

As he passes, you catch the smell of the cologne that matches exactly to the scent of the man you bumped into in the hallway. Nausea creeps up from the pit of your stomach and you quickly look away, but to your absolute horror, your brother stops him in his tracks right beside you.

“Oh, D. Meet our sister, Angel.” On your right, he swivels on his heel and your breath catches in your throat when he tips towards you in a respectful bow.

“Good to meet you.” He holds out his hand adorned with thick silver rings to offer a kind greeting, but it only makes you more sick. You swallow thickly, wanting nothing more than to ignore his offering, but you know you can’t purposely be rude, especially not in front of Jin. You have to be polite to him, no matter how much it might kill you, because you can’t let your brothers catch onto something that shouldn’t be there. And after years of playing poker, you’ve learned how to perfect hiding how you really feel. For the most part.

So, swallowing your rage, you muster the courage to turn in your seat to face him, plastering on the fakest smile you can manage and reach out to grab his hand, breath catching in your lungs at the lightning you feel at his warm, soft but slightly calloused touch because you remember them so, so well.

Sometimes in your loneliest, darkest moments, you close your eyes and conjure up the memories of the way those hands once ran over every inch of your body, just like those lips, those eyes, and other parts of him that graced you and lit up your skin, sunk into your bones in a way that made you ache. And that ache lasted, in your heart, in your gut, in between your legs ever since that morning when you woke up expecting him to be next to you, only to find cold and empty sheets. Like he was never there. And you found yourself wishing you could rip out the ghost of his touch from beneath your skin, but it was permanently etched into your soul.

“Pleasure,” you say through a sickly-sweet smile, wishing you could see beyond his shades for any sign that he knows who you are, or if he’s just forgotten you. It has been three years after all. You catch a light, but noticeable scar slashed vertically on his right eye, partially hidden by his dark glasses. Your heart pangs when you don’t remember that being there the last time you saw him, but he hurt you, intensely, and now he’s acting like he doesn’t know you so fuck him. The sight of that scar compels you to look down at his hand clasped in yours and, in a flash, turn it sideways so you can see the diagonal gash that starts at his knuckles and ends by his wrist, which you do remember. You let go of his hand as if it scalded you and turn your attention back to the table, your mind and pulse racing at this feeling of yet another situation being out of your control. You want to tell your brothers right now about everything, get him off your back and out of your life, but knowing what consequences he would face stops you. He’s lucky Jungkook considers him a friend. Because otherwise, you’d have him thrown into the bottom of the Han river.

Jin calls for rounds of wine and whiskey as the group of men engage in small talk, and you appreciate your brothers who include you as much as possible. You hear conversations of Jin asking Namjoon how it’s going with your onboarding for the casino, and you do your best to contribute, but it’s hard to do it through the static going on in your head that you can’t quell, brought on by the man sitting across the table a few seats down, next to Hope who’s chatting his ear off. He has not looked your way once despite your many stolen and partially involuntary glances, only adding fire to the flame.

Two hours pass for everyone to finish off their meal, drinks, and conversation about work and other things that you tune out. Eventually, Jin starts to hint that he’s ready for the dinner to come to an end, and you sit quietly as he thanks his friends for coming. They all bid their goodbyes and most offer handshakes and arm taps as they wish him well. When they turn to go, Jin’s eyes linger on their backs until the next friend comes up.

As you wait for your brother to end the night for you as well, all who’s left is D, Namjoon and Hope, and they move closer to the head of the table once the rest of the room files out. A boulder settles in your gut when D sits directly across from you.

Those goddamn shades. You can’t even tell if he’s looking at you.

“Thank you all for staying after,” Jin says after he returns to his chair, knocking back the last of his drink. He gestures to the table but you speak before he can continue, pretending to check your manicure when Jin looks over, so he doesn't catch the way you were just staring down the man across from you.

“Isn’t it rude to wear sunglasses inside?” You ask your brother. “I thought you were all about respect.”

Jungkook nudges you and whispers behind his hand, “Why are you being a dick?”

You don’t respond, acting as if you didn’t hear him. Because you can’t answer that. Jin sighs and there’s a subtle squint of his eyes at you before he gestures to the man beside him.

“D, if you wouldn’t mind.”

D says nothing (you want to scream that’s not his real name but you’re not sure if your brothers even know that) and raises his hands to remove the sunglasses, expression remaining blank. Once they’re folded and slipped into the inside pocket of his blazer, he finally lifts his bare gaze to you, scar on full display, and your heart slams in your chest. Because those eyes that seem to look right through you, are far too cold and vacant, void of everything that made you once believe you had a shot at something real.

“So, since you’re starting at the casino next week, I want to discuss security. I’m assigning you new detail.” You stare at Jin with a puzzled expression.

“What's wrong with the team there?”

“I'm talking about your personal guard." Your eyebrows furrow. So this is what your brothers have actually been hiding from you.

“Isn’t that Yeong’s job?”

“He doesn’t have enough experience to handle your protection around the clock.” “Around the clock? You’re joking.”

“I’m not."

You huff and cross your arms. “And if I don’t agree?”

“That’s not an option.”

“Fine. Who did you hire to basically stalk me?”

“D will take on as your guard and driver.”

Ha. Haha. This isn’t real. What kind of joke is the universe playing on you? And why are you the punchline?

You turn to Jungkook. “Isn’t he your security?”

“Yes,” Jin answers instead. “But since you’re going to be dealing with the public and crews and potential feds at the casino, D has the knowledge and experience to help with everything, so he’s being reassigned to you.”

How can it be this fucking coincidental for the man who dug a crack into your soul, filled it with light, and crushed it when he left with no warning become the new head of your security? Complete and utter bullshit.

"Angel,” Jin mutters, urging you to say something.

“Fuck this,” you spit, eyes darting to the man you speak of to see if your words affect him but when he doesn’t give anything away it only makes you angrier.

“I’m not doing it.” You stand up to head for the door, but your brother's loud, bellowing voice puts a halt to your escape.

“Yes, you are. This is not a game; you don’t have a choice.”

Your head spins. This is too much too fast. All of your control and independence is being ripped out right from under you, and you already feel weighed down by it. Seething, you glance between him and his men, and you don’t want it to look like you’re throwing a temper tantrum. You wonder if this is why your brothers chose to tell you here, in front of everyone, testing you to see if you’ll control yourself.

“I already can’t drive myself anymore, and your guards have to be up my ass when I come here. Yeong has to check in with you to make sure I’m allowed to go to the fucking bathroom alone, your dirty cop is gonna pretty much spy on me at work, and now you want this goon to follow me around everywhere?”

“Look, I know you don’t like this, but-” “No, I don’t.”

“But,” he continues sternly, glare on you growing harsher. “I don’t think you realize the calamity of the situation you’re about to be in and I have to take all the necessary precautions to ensure your safety.” “Meaning I have to be fucking babysat?” you spit with vitriol, and Jungkook puts a hand on your elbow in an attempt to pull you down a notch now that Jin’s expression is contorting into one that shows he will not entertain this conversation for much longer as your brother. Being the boss in front of you has never been something he’s wanted you to see, but right now you’re pushing the limits. You don’t care, so you rip your arm out of Jungkook’s grip who resigns with a sigh while you keep your fiery stare on your oldest brother where there’s a likeness in his own.

“Don’t speak to me that way, Angel.”

“Don’t treat me like I’m a little kid, Jinnie,” you sneer, using his nickname un-endearingly.

“I told you about not using real names,” he booms, fist falling on the table. You don’t flinch.

“You’re one of us now, you need to start acting like it. And you’re going to start by listening to what I say and showing some respect. Otherwise, we’ll have to have an entirely different conversation, and I really don’t want us to go there.”

You’re not sure what he means by that, but you’d be stupid to fuck around and find out.

“As a woman in this business, you are much more vulnerable and at risk and it’s my job to protect you. That’s just reality. So you need to have security in place, especially by tomorrow. Am I being clear?”

You grind your teeth. “Yes.”

“Thank you.”

“Can I go home now?”

“I’m about to go over the plans for tomorrow. Sit down.”

“Please, I want to go home; I have a lot of things to do. You know I haven’t even unpacked everything yet? I’m practically sleeping in that office.”

You do your best to keep out any expletives, despite having many to fire off, so you don’t show more disrespect, but your mild lack of control has you muttering under your breath, “No thanks to you.”

Beside you, Jungkook presses his hands together in front of his face like a prayer while Jin shakes his head, eyes closing, and rubs a hand over his forehead like you’re giving him a migraine.

“I’ll get you some help, I’ll get whatever you need. But right now, I need you to stay so we can talk everything out because shit is about to get real. Please sit down.”

You do so with extreme reluctance, the concoction of conflicted emotions swirling in your chest making it increasingly difficult to pay attention to any of what he says. As parts of your mind and body drift in and out of your subconscious, you’re startled out of a staring contest with the edge of the table by Jungkook nudging your shoulder. Relaxing your jaw that was painfully clenched, you lift your head to notice that all eyes are on you, minus one particular pair.

“Sorry, what?”

Jin sighs and gestures to the other side of the table. “Hope was asking if you’d be willing to meet with him in a couple of weeks to check on any problems to report.”

“Sure, whatever. I mean, I don’t have a choice either way, right?” you mutter, throwing your brother's words back in his face. You feel Jin’s eyes burning a hole on the side of your face and you know you’ll get an earful from him later.

You glance over to see Hope looking at you with a half-smile and there’s a bit of guilt at how you just came across. You really want to disappear.

“Is that all? May I be excused now?” you ask Jin tersely. He rubs a hand over his mouth like he’s preventing himself from further calling you out. Keeping his stare locked with yours, he raises a dismissive hand.

“D, can you escort her down to the garage? Mr. Han will drive her home.” You close your eyes in relief. “And exchange information on the way; you’ll be picking her up tomorrow evening.”

“Yes, boss.”

You turn around before he stands up, making a beeline for the door because you’re boiling up like a tea kettle. The room seems to be chasing you, closing in on you, like a hand around your throat that you can’t fight off. By the hairs raised on the back of your neck, you can tell he’s coming up behind you so you pick up the pace, jamming your finger into the down button on the elevator. You silently thank it when it only takes a few seconds to arrive, the one thing on your side tonight, so that you can step in before he reaches you. You rapidly press the close button, your eyes narrowed in the harshest glare at his face as he sticks out his hand but he’s too late, the doors rumble shut, sealing him out.

Alone in the elevator, there’s so much going through your mind that it hurts to think. So many emotions and feelings are swirling in your chest that you have no idea where to start to pick apart and process. All you know is that you want to get as far away from him as possible. How the tables have turned.

It’s freezing down in the garage, and Mr. Han has yet to arrive, much to your chagrin. The bubbling beneath the surface of your skin grows to a rage when you hear leather shoes pad onto the concrete.

“Angel-”

Oh, hell no! He doesn’t get to be casual. He doesn’t get to say your name. It’s not your real one, but it was real to him.

You twist around. “Don’t be informal."

Expression unchanged, he apologizes and corrects himself then steps forward with a hand held out, carrying your coat that you forgot upstairs.

You give it a side glance and snatch it away, tucking it under your crossed arms, because you prefer to be stubborn and cold. You refuse to face him, even when he clears his throat and takes another step towards you.

“Let me give you my number,” he says, reaching into his inside pocket to pull out his phone. As you remember what happened the last time he gave you his phone number, an indignant laugh bubbles in your throat, too painful to let out.

This is the universe laughing at you right in your face. You say nothing, not even acknowledging what he said, as if you didn’t hear him at all.

You just stare at the curb, desperately waiting for Mr. Han to pull up and take you away. In this moment, he’s your only friend in the world.

Seconds go by, and the man beside you reaches back into his jacket, trading his phone for… a pen? He then plucks out the white handkerchief folded neatly in his chest pocket, spreads it on his palm, and flicks the pen over it before passing it to you.

You stare at the handkerchief, at the numbers messily stained on the fabric, and crumple it in your hand, balling it into a tight fist.

Acting on autopilot with a question that’s been spinning around your mind since you shook his hand at dinner, you whip around to face him, faltering slightly when he’s closer than you realized.

“Did you know?” you snap. “This whole time. Did you know about me?”

His face remains emotionless and even though he’s not wearing his shades, you can't see any kind of reaction in his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

Oh. So he's a fucking coward. And he wants to play games.

"Then let’s get one thing clear,” you grit, holding up your pointer finger. “If you think I'm gonna be nice to you, think again. And since you couldn’t give a shit about me, don't pretend to be nice either."

You get right in his face, but he doesn’t react or move away, and you wonder what it would take for him to stand down.

“Cross me in any way, I’ll tell my brothers who you really are.”

You stare, unblinkingly, in his eyes, searching, waiting for any sign that he’s the least bit intimidated by your threat. But there’s nothing. Just blank, soulless eyes. And to think they once set your heart on fire. Now they’ve turned it to ash.

How you ever fell for them, you’ll never know.

Clearly, you’re a fool.

“We’ll see how long you last, Min Yoongi.”

When you get home, you decline all calls from your brothers and march into your room, not bothering to change, and dig through all of your unpacked boxes searching for an old plastic bag containing a sweater and a chain that you’ve been carrying around with you for years but you don’t know why. You find Jungkook’s knife, but not the bag and now you’re left with the aftermath of a tornado on your bedroom floor. You spend all night putting everything in its place until the sun rises and your mind is numb, anything to ignore the swarm of angry wasps buzzing in your head because the man you’ve been trying so long to forget just somehow stuck himself in your life, like a knife in your chest.

For the rest of the day, you throw yourself back into the plethora of files you’ve poured over with Namjoon for what seems like hundreds of times. You go through all the budgets, contracts, blueprints, and black books until time bleeds into the late afternoon. But you can’t rest, for those harsh, dark eyes will come back to haunt you in your dreams. You’ll have flashbacks of that night, of him and it will only cause your chest to collapse into a black hole and swallow every last drop of color in your soul.

Your fiancé saunters into the foyer, wolf-whistling upon seeing you and an unsettling feeling takes over when he walks up to you.

“Well, aren’t you just a dream come true?” he muses, shamelessly checking you out and you shoot him a fake smile.

“Thank you,” you say politely, borderline sarcastic, and focus your attention on your reflection in the mirror as you fix your hair and earrings, putting your best poker face on now that Jay is standing a few feet away.

“You’re having dinner with your brothers again?” “No, we’re meeting with the commission tonight.”

“Ah. Scary,” he says, a teasing smile on his face. You have a feeling that he actually thinks that, hence why he hasn’t offered up an opportunity to show you off, even though the commission consists entirely of men.

“Will you be alright?”

You don’t know how many times you’ve internally rolled your eyes since you’ve met him. Do you have ‘I’m helpless’ tattooed on your forehead or something?

“Yep. I shouldn’t be out too late.”

“Then I won’t wait up for you.” His tone is light like he’s still making jokes but you are in no joking mood so you bite your tongue. You weren’t expecting him to, nor would you want him to do that. Your phone pings and a rush of heat floods you when you know who it is, announcing his arrival.

“Okay. I think my ride’s here, so I’m gonna head out.”

“Let me walk you.” You want to argue that it’s not necessary, the less time spent interacting with him, the better.

Play nice, Angel, Jin's voice rings in your head.

Play nice.

So, you let him accompany you down the hall, help you on with your coat, and open the door for you that you politely thank him for.

In the driveway, a waxed black palisade with tinted windows is parked parallel to the main entrance, exhaust running, and your nostrils flare when you see Min Yoongi - oh, excuse you, D - standing next to the passenger's side, waiting for you with his hands clasped.

“Who’s that?”

“The security my brothers hired,” you say nonchalantly, even though there’s a burning rage in your chest.

“Huh. I thought you had an older driver.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t have any security experience, so.” You notice that your fiancé seems to be somehow bothered by that information, but you don’t press it because you really don’t fucking care.

“Well, have a good-” But he interrupts you, tearing his attention away from the car you’re dreading having to ride in.

“So, my dad wants us to have dinner with them. Maybe you can make some time next weekend? He’ll want to know how things are going at the casino.”

Oh, god. That is the last thing you want to do. Jay’s parents are extremely conservative and traditional, and you can’t imagine what they’ll have to say to you now that you’re living with their son. But again, you have to play nice.

“Sure, I’ll let you know my schedule.”

“Sounds good,” he nods and just as you start to turn, he grabs your hand, the one with the oversized diamond sitting on your ring finger, his head quickly moving from the driveway to lean in and kiss right on the jewel and it makes you feel a bit icky.

“I’ll see you later,” he says from your knuckles with a noticeable grin. You plaster on a tight smile and subtly retract your hand.

“Have a good night.” He nods and lets you go, watching as you make your way down the marble stairs. You think to yourself this would be the time you might appreciate his help, considering you’re in heels and it’s freezing outside. But you don’t really want him to touch you again so you rely on the railing.

“Take care of my fiancée for me!” Jay calls out as you make it off the porch. Your eyes roll back so far in your head you have to close them and walk blindly for a few seconds. As you approach the car, you keep your head down, refusing to see how D responds to that. Although you don’t think he would, since he’s given you no indication that he even has emotions anymore as of yet.

From one man that pisses you off to the next. To say you're fuming would be an understatement.

Wearing a sleek black suit, a long winter coat to match, and, since it’s still light out, those dark sunglasses, he bows to you in greeting before opening the door, gesturing for you to get in.

"Good evening," he says as you approach, and you don’t reply, don't even look at him. You hate him, you really do, so why is it that his dark, quiet yet thunderous voice makes your heart skip a beat?

You feel his gaze on you as you reach for the back door, completely ignoring him, and slide into the warm car, slamming the door shut before scooting to sit behind the driver's side. You don’t want to be tempted to look at him in the rear-view mirror.

The passenger door closes and you whip out your phone, refusing to stare at the man swiftly striding around the front of the car. As he does, you wonder why the fuck he thought you would want to sit next to him. You’ve never felt comfortable treating your drivers like chauffeurs but this driver is a special case, and you hope that he’s gotten the message.

When he gets in and shuts out the cold, you're suddenly overwhelmed by the loud, attractive scent of his cologne and aftershave, a certain musk and mint to it that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head for a split second. Fuck, he smells good, even with a hint of a cigarette. And expensive. You can only imagine the type of salary your brothers smuggle into his wallet, especially now that your safety is his sole responsibility. Protection like that doesn’t come cheap.

You dare him to say anything else, so you get out your case of earbuds with the intention to blast music and drown him out. But before you can shove them in, a stack of manila folders hangs in front of your face, held by long, thin fingers decorated by chunky silver rings. For a second you want to ask him what the fuck he’s doing, triggered by the fact that you’re so fucking over looking through files, even more so for him to be dumping them on you.

“What’s this?” you grumble, teeth clenching as you reluctantly accept the folders and draw them into your lap.

“Your brother wanted me to find you an assistant, so these are five candidates,” he explains, voice slightly muffled by the engine and from speaking to the windshield. “Take your pick and I’ll set up an interview.”

You can’t help your genuine surprise as you look over the spread he handed you, each file neatly organized with resumes, backgrounds, references and head shots. You wish he fucked something up so you'd have an excuse to call him incompetent, but he did his homework. And if he got all of this together since last night, then he’s more diligent than you want to give him credit for.

You swallow a scoff. "I'm allowed to choose? I didn't think I got a say.”

"If you didn't, I wouldn't be giving you options."

"Are you sure?” You snark, face buried in the files. “I know you answer to my brother, and you wouldn't want to get in any trouble."

A beat passes. "He's not my boss. You are."

Well. That is... the last thing you thought he would say. And you never would've considered yourself his boss.

Oh. You're going to have fun with this.

“These are all men,” you scowl after you flip through all of the resumes.

Yeah, just what you need.

You lean forward to toss the files on the passenger's seat, papers scattering onto the floor. Your instincts urge you to apologize and offer to clean up the mess, but your pride has you sitting back with your arms crossed, looking out of the tinted window indifferently.

“You could’ve saved yourself a lot of trouble if you’d just asked me what I was looking for. But I guess you don’t really care what I want, do you?”

You spare a glance into the rearview mirror, the top half of his face clearly visible, but… you still can’t tell if he’s looking at you. You don’t wait for a response, not thinking there’s anything he could say anyway, and let your earbuds do the job of shutting him out.

It isn’t until you’re halfway to your destination that you realize you didn’t text him at all until an hour before you had to leave, so how could he have contacted you before then? That’s beside the point.

He should know what you’re really throwing in his face.

The car barely pulls to a stop in front of the warehouse when a small group of guards swarm around to flank the doors. Taking out your earbuds, you stare out of the tinted windows at the suited men looking all around to make sure you’re in the clear. You feel anything but assured.

One guard is standing right in front of the door, essentially blocking you inside, and D gets out, apparently needing to be the one to open it for you and assist in your exit.

The air is crisp and cold when your heels hit the gravel, and you don’t miss the way D’s palm flips up as you start to stand, playing it off when you intentionally ignore the gesture by lifting his wrist to his mouth to speak into the mic connected to his earpiece that runs under his sleeve.

You shiver when you step out and D shuts the door, holding an arm out to signal you to walk forward, pressing a finger into his earpiece. The guards fall into formation around you, one in front, one on either side, and D right behind you. This level of protection feels a bit too much as they escort you into the maze of shipping containers, you aren’t the president or some A-list celebrity, but you’re about to walk into a den of wolves, so you can’t go without a pack of your own.

They lead you through the arid warehouse, filled with shelves of boxes ready to ship out on the harbor, some legal, most illicit. In the very back is a steel door, and the leading guard opens it, takes a look down in the stairwell, and beckons you forward. You step into the hallway and catch a glimpse of the emergency exit, door wedged open by a… silver cigarette case? That looks very much like the one you saw your brother slip out of his coat the other morning and sneak outside before Jin came down for breakfast. You head for it and a guard puts a hand out to stop you, but you push past him; D calls for you, and you pay no attention, popping open the door. You falter mid-step when Jungkook flinches and whips back his jacket, hand reaching for something in his waistband.

“Jesus, Angel,” he grumbles, letting go of his jacket to cover the handle of his gun, and takes a heavy drag of the cigarette. You bend down to pick up his silver case, letting go of the door that doesn’t close and you don’t doubt that D is the one holding it open.

“Relax, it’s just lil ole me,” you say, eyebrow raising when he shoots a glare your way. "What's up, bro?"

“What was last night about?" he asks, a hot start, leaning over to snatch the case out of your hands.

“Hey!”

"Are you done being an asshole? You were pretty rude to hyung last night. And D and Hope.” His tone is testy as smoke pours from his lips.

Crossing your arms, you prop yourself on the wall with a huff and an eyeroll.

“Well, that depends. Are you done keeping things from me?” He sighs and scratches the wrinkle between his brows with his thumbnail.

“We knew you wouldn’t like it, so that’s why we waited to tell you.” “What about any of this do you think that I like?” You blurt in a raised voice that gets lost in the frigid breeze. He stares at you for a moment before looking away to take a drag, a tick in his jaw. You aren’t being fair, you know. Your brother is in the exact same boat. Neither of you signed up for this, but at least he wasn’t thrown into the fire at the last minute with little to no time to process anything. And his life isn't being guarded by someone who broke his heart.

"You can't be that way in there."

“I know. I'm sorry,” you try to recover. “It’s just-” As you stare out at the run-down docks, you can’t think of a way to explain what you’re sorry for. Instead, you swivel to face him and step up with a beckoning hand in the air.

“Can I have one?” Flicking ash on the brick, his expression changes to level you with a hesitant look.

“Since when do you smoke?” You don’t really since you hate the taste and the smell, but the kind of cigarettes that your brother buys isn’t as pungent and disgusting. Sometimes a little nicotine helps to take the edge off. And you’re very much on edge lately.

“Since I found out I’m about to become a criminal.”

He rolls his eyes. “What do you mean ‘about to’? Haven’t you been arrested before?”

“Not recently!” you exclaim. He’s one to talk! “Besides, that was for petty theft and I wasn’t even charged.”

“Don’t forget the time you spent a night in jail when you got caught speed racing. Hyung was so pissed he had to fly all the way out there to bail your dumb ass out.” Jungkook tilts forward, crossing his ankles as he chuckles out a puff of smoke.

“Well, it’s your fault I even know how to race.” He opens his mouth to argue but you shut him down. “Do you want me to go ahead and list out your rap sheet too? We would be here all night.”

“Go to hell.” You laugh at his disgruntled scowl.

“I’ll meet you there. Give me your lighter or I’ll tell Jin you started smoking again.”

He shakes his head, both of you knowing damn well that Jin would not approve of the two of you chain smoking.

“Don’t be a tattletale.”

“Don’t be a hypocrite.”

“No,” he grumbles. “You shouldn’t be smoking.”

“You shouldn’t either!”

“I know. I’m quitting soon and I'm not about to let you start.”

With a reluctant huff, you lean back against the wall, watching his smoke billow out into the night sky. The both of you shiver in silence. It’s quiet out here, save for the sounds of a ship horn blaring in the distance, and the wind whistling into the alley from the docks that carries the smells of bay water and the old rotting wood of the piers. Scents like these usually bring a sense of calm into your soul, but tonight, anxiety overrides them all. You doubt even nicotine could do anything to ease the disquietude in your head.

“I’m scared,” you confess. You glance over to see him staring down at nothing in particular, not blinking as he smokes and you want him to tell you that he is too, but he’s in no position to be. Not anymore. It used to show in his jaw, in between his brows but there’s none of that. Looking at him now, gone is the boy you grew up with. And you know that’s because of how hard he worked to rid himself of all that fear, just like Jin, and what you have to do too.

“There’s no reason to be.” You look away with a frown, clearly not what you needed to hear, but his hand on your shoulder forces you to turn back.

“Listen. No one can do anything to us once they find out who we are.” You shrug off his hand. He takes a drag and blows it away from your face.

“Who’s to say they won’t?”

“Me. After tonight, I own this city and everything that belongs to me. That includes you, Angel. We’re not the ones who should be afraid.”

“Boss, it’s time to go.” You glance over your shoulder where a single, flickering light above the door shines down on D’s head as he holds it open with a flattened hand. You turn back to your brother as he sucks in a final drag before dropping the butt and squishing it under his heel. Exhaling smoke up to the sky, he hooks an arm around your shoulder and begins walking you to the door, not letting you fight your way out of his hold.

“We got this, sis.” You roughly push him and he finally lets go, clicking your tongue when he laughs at your glare.

“You do,” you mutter, straightening out your coat and smoothing down your shirt. Nervous habits. He stops and grabs your elbow.

“It’s us now. We’re in this together, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe through a scared smile.

You keep your head up as you walk past D who slides against the door to put distance between you, yet still close enough to catch another whiff of his cologne. One breath and you’re aggravated that it’s him, another breath and the scent filters into your senses, leaving an undeniable calm.

Back inside, Jungkook claps a hand on D’s shoulder as the guards return to their formation to lead you down the stairs and into the den. Before you enter, you can tell just how crowded it is from the sounds of chatter and laughter that drips exorbitant wealth, and the accompanying stench of thick illegal cigars that makes your nose itch.

Jungkook walks around you to be the first one in the room and a wave of anxiety skids your heels to a stop. A presence that you’re coming to know all too well looms behind you, like he’s your shadow. More like a demon. Your eyes close to quell the drum pounding in your chest.

“After you,” he mutters, the sinful thunder in his voice mere inches away from your ear sending a shiver down your spine. Your eyes fly open and feet move on their own accord to get away from it.

Fuck. That.

The ringing in your ears that stems from his voice and low-spoken words rumbling in a loop through your mind aids you in your ability to shut out the room and the way it quiets down as you walk to the head of the table where your brothers stand in wait for you. The rest of the men are also already standing and it just makes their intense, collective stare on you that much more stifling.

You remove your coat and a hand stretches out beside you that you silently allow to take it. Jin gestures for you to sit on his right, across from Jungkook, and waves for the commission to take their seats as well. Behind you, the doors close and one glance to the side shows D getting into place with your brothers guards by the adjacent wall, holding your coat.

With a polite, reserved expression, you take a sweep of the room and observe that these men are an assortment of strange faces and ones you’ve seen in Namjoon’s files. They’re all young and old. Father and son. Leaving you as the outlier. And that causes a lump in your throat.

Jin launches into introducing you and Jungkook, and all you can do is keep your back straight and hands on the table, respectfully paying attention as he explains how now that he’s going on the lam, the family heads will defer to Jungkook, and their crews and associates will report to you for any and all financial endeavors at the casino. As Jin speaks these plans into reality, you finally begin to feel the full pressure and burden of your impending responsibilities.

And this time your brother won't be there to bail you out.

The members offer your end of the table diplomatic nods of acknowledgement and subtle darting eyes between you and Jungkook.

But just as Jin gives Jungkook the floor, a deep, condescending laugh resounds from across the table, belonging to a smug, rugged man wearing thick chains and even thicker rings. All attention snaps to his interruption and your skin crawls when he fixes Jungkook with a leering, patronizing stare.

“I’m sorry, but with all due respect, do you really think your junkie brother can handle being in charge?”

Your eyebrows cross at the audacity. He’s speaking as if Jin is not the reigning top boss of this entire room and Jungkook is not about to step in and fill his shoes. There’s a slur to his words and the near empty decanter next to his glass indicates that he’s imbibed and probably incognizant. Because who in their right mind would dare to provoke the kingpin of the city’s mob syndicate like this.

You look over to Jin, expecting him to call out the man’s blatant disrespect, but both him and Jungkook are staring the man down with darkness and anger that you’ve never seen before. Perhaps they’re just giving him the chance to dig himself into a hole so deep he’ll have to stay there.

“And what about her?” the man with a greasy mustache points at you. You recognize him. “I don’t know if I can trust her capabilities with dealing business at the casino. I mean, what does she know?”

He’s underestimating you and you’re sure he’s not alone in that. Everyone else is just smart enough to keep their mouths shut. You feel the urge to pull your hands into your lap to frown at, but you just lean back in your chair, maintaining a cool expression as you wait for him to spew more of his bullshit.

“Yeah, sure they were born with the purpose of serving your father, but we all know they weren’t raised like you. So how can they possibly be prepared to take over in your place?”

“Because they’re my blood,” Jin finally says, voice steady and reasonable. But his narrowed eyes and blown out pupils tells you he’s anything but.

“Only by half,” he sneers. “Wasn’t their mother some low-life shop owner?” You feel choked by the mention of your mother and wonder just how much this man and the rest of the commission know about you beyond what they’re entitled to. Your chest squeezes when you catch eyes with Jungkook as he furiously picks at his fingers, probably not realizing he’s even doing it.

“See, that’s where the don went wrong. Choosing a peasant to procreate his back-up heirs with. Their blood doesn’t really count, at least not in my book.” Lee looks around as if to see who else is on his side, but no one takes their attention off of Jin as he rises and digs a hand onto Jungkook’s shoulder.

“He is the don now.”

Lee scoffs. “He’s a junkie! Just like your father.” Your fingers clench into a tight fist, the urge to stand up for your brother sending a violent rush through your veins.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Lee,” Jin growls in a malicious tone. “You’re forgetting your place. Don’t make me remind you.”

“My place,” Lee chuckles bitterly, shaking his head. He picks up his glass and bangs it on the table with a thud. “My place should be at the head of that fucking table with my son, not these little children. We should be the next in line now that you’re resigning!” “I’m not resigning,” Jin barks, fixing the entire room with a dead serious glare. “I’m leaving to avoid prison. Because if I go down, I’m taking everyone with me. Do I make myself fucking clear?”

Jin’s power reverberates off of the walls and it carves away some of your anxiety. He points a stern finger at Lee.

“They are the rightful heirs, just as I am, and I won’t throw away all of what I’ve built just because you don’t accept that.”

“What your father built,” Lee spits in contempt. Jin bends down with a heavy slam of his hands on the wood surface. “What my family built. And what my brother and sister will continue to build because it’s theirs now.” “Do they know that’s the only reason why they were born? Well, him at least.” Your face contorts in confusion when he points at Jungkook. Jin lifts his hands from the table and the tension in the room grows thicker as he stands tall. “Excuse me?” “It’s a fair question. And does she know that when there were rumors that Don Kim had a daughter, he adamantly denied it?”

Your fingernails dig into your sweaty palms when Lee slides his beady eyes to you.

“You were a mistake, sweetheart,” he lilts with an ugly, crooked grin. “What use would he have with a girl? All you’re good for now is playing trophy wife to appease the son of your father’s biggest investor. You’re just a pawn in his business plan, you have no real value.”

“Lee, that’s enough-” Jin snarls.

“Lee Dong-wook, right?” you starkly interject, staring unwaveringly at him and his rising eyebrow. “Didn’t you lose your business in the east harbors when you failed to keep quota and you couldn’t control disputes between the local gangs? I can’t remember exactly how much money and how many men you cost my brother but I know it was a lot.”

Lee’s jaw drops, rendered speechless. A raging vein begins to bulge on the side of his forehead, turning his face beet red now that you’re doing the job of tearing him down from his high horse.

“But at least you still have this side of the harbor so you can trade paraphernalia with other parts of the coast. Like these.” You reach forward for a box of cigars in front of Jungkook, only to find it empty. To your surprise and everyone else's, you stand and move to pass behind your brothers, ignoring Jin’s hushed, “What are you doing?” as you walk over to Lee, hoping to exert some intimidation by standing your ground over him. You try to disregard the fact that he is twice your size and far more muscular but Jungkook’s words from earlier remind you that no one can hurt you now.

The shadow that follows you will ensure that.

You spot a cigar box next to Lee and another older man, and no one says anything as you lean in between them to take one out, snatching up one of the cutters as well. Holding up the cigar beneath your nose, you inhale the strong flavored mix of coffee and leather.

“Hmm, not bad,” you reflect, analyzing the stamped label before you snap off the end. “Kind of cheap, but I guess the tobacco isn’t what your customers are actually after. It’s smart, smuggling amphetamines in these. Just ironic that you move rock for a living but have the nerve to call my brother a junkie. I don't doubt you take samples.”

The lighter you pick up and flick open to fire up the cigar become the only sounds in the room. After disposing the metal on the table, you place the wrapped leaf between your teeth and brace yourself as you take a smooth drag.

“And you must be stupid if you think I don’t know that my father didn’t want me,” you say, blowing smoke up to the ceiling while you do your best to pretend that the strong hit isn’t scratching the hell out of your throat. You glance back down to Lee whose eyes are on the brink of bulging right out of their sockets.

“But you see, I’m not here for him. I’m here for them,” you point the cigar over your shoulder at Jin and Jungkook.

“You sure they’re not forcing you?” Lee challenges, tongue thick with rage causing specks of saliva to catch on his mustache. Gross. “No one can force me to do anything,” you reply calmly. “I’ll do whatever it takes for my brothers.” A moment passes, and then another, with no response and you think you’ve made your case. But just as you’re about to give up the facade that you’re enjoying this piss-awful cigar, Lee harshly spits out,

“Would you kill for them, little girl?”

Tilting your head, your mind races as you imagine all the ways you could show him how far you’re willing to go for both of them. A small smile creeps onto the corner of your lips around the cigar.

“Do you want to find out?” His mustache twitches. You blow smoke in its direction. “Is that a threat?” “You tell me,” you shrug. “If anything, I’d be doing you a favor.”

“Pardon?” You lazily tap the cigar, unphased when the ash falls to the floor, some of it on Lee’s lap, earning a menacing glower.

“It sounds like you have a death wish. Coming in here and disrespecting my brothers even though you can’t do a goddamn thing without their say so. They own you and, now, so do I.”

Lee doesn’t break your stare but by the curl of his fist on the arm of the chair and his cheeks that tinge an even darker red, you’ve severely pissed him off. “You don’t have what it takes to kill me.” Taking that as a challenge, you reach down, lift the hem of your slacks, and snatch out the knife nestled in the strap around your calf. In a flash, you bring your sharp silver blade to the vein on his thick neck, smoke from the cigar dangerously close to his sideburns. “Wanna bet?”

A commotion erupts around you as two of Lee’s men move to defend him at a moment’s notice, weapon threatening to withdraw and your pulse glitches for a second at the potential danger. That is until a figure behind you pushes away Lee’s guard and you know without looking that it’s Jungkook coming to your aid. And next to him is that dark and menacing man smelling of mint and musk and intimidation.

“Well, I bet you’d hate to get killed by a girl. So I’ll save you your dignity.”

Lowering your knife, you lean away but pause when a goading sneer grows on his ugly mug.

“You’re weak. Just like your brother who can’t even man up and take responsibility for the casino because of what happened to his little-” Before he can finish that sentence that would have Jungkook flying off the handle, you stab the burning end of your cigar on the back of his hand, twisting a sear into his skin until he leaps up with a shriek.

“You bitch!” The cigar plants itself on the side of his neck, until your wrist is grabbed and ripped away, tobacco falling to the floor, just like the man who dared to put hands on you. As you’re pulled back by your brother, off to the side is D manhandling Lee’s guard into submission, face pressed into the wall with a gun shoved into the side of his head. Your brothers’ guards surround you and there’s a standoff with Lee’s men, the rest of the room watching on in shock, no one else daring to move lest they get caught in impending crossfire.

“Weapons down, now,” Jin’s terse voice booms. The guns slowly lower but the fierce glares remain pinned on opposite sides.

“Lee. You’re dismissed.” You think that’s code for, I’m not going to kill you in front of my sister. You know you’ve just made a cause for bloodshed.

“Have fun getting whacked,” you grin devilishly at Lee who can’t decide which burn hurts worse. “I hope your last thought is of my pretty face.”

In brazen stupidity, Lee steps forward but before his foot can even touch the ground, he’s sent flying back with your brother’s fists in his collar. A hand on your elbow tugs you away from the chaos you created, but you can’t look away from it, like it’s a car crash. But D steps in front of you just as you’re dragged to the front of the room by your brother. Your coat is swung around your shoulders and suddenly you’re facing Jin who guides you to the door. D appears right by your side.

“I knew you had it in you, birdie,” Jin says with a proud glint in his eyes. On the other side of the room, your brother’s guards are doing their best to keep Jungkook and Lee apart as they usher him to the exit.

“D, take her home.”

The backseat of the car is warm on the ride home. Your hands are shaking, surely from the adrenaline. That’s when it hits you, what you just did. Fuck. You’ve never acted that way before, never purposely hurt someone because you didn’t like what they said.

But you liked it. The power you had, the confidence it gave you. And that scares you.

“Are you okay?” D asks tentatively. It’s then that you realize you’ve been crying. You flick a defiant tear from your cheek and wrap your arms tighter around yourself.

“What do you care?” you mumble bitterly. The rest of the drive is spent in silence. If you were sitting up front, you would’ve seen the way his fingers flexed on the steering wheel.

When he pulls up to your house, you quickly get out even though he starts to say something, desperate to be inside, away from him and the cold and everything that happened.

You don’t know why your office has become your safe haven, but you return there and collapse into one of the armchairs, weighed down by tonight, and what’s in store. Not to mention the extra weight added on your chest because of D.

So you cry. You cry until you run out of tears, but you don't think that could stop you with how much you're hurting. That is until you hear a knock on your office door. It startles you, you’ve never expected anyone to check on you, especially not your fiancé. Were you crying so loud that he could hear you all the way across the house? You don't think that much of it, too busy getting a hold of yourself to look presentable before cracking open the door.

His face is overshadowed by the hallway light, and you can't see his eyes that well. You try to hide your swollen, tear-streaked cheeks from him, but he peers over the door with a small yet gentle smile.

"What's wrong? Did things not go well with the commission?”

You quickly wipe away any stray tears, putting on a brave face as you open the door a little further.

"Ah, well. It was just a lot, y’know?” You scramble, because you can't actually tell him what's wrong. Obviously. You don't think you'll ever be able to tell anyone. And you definitely don’t want to admit that you’re being weak.

"I do. Everything will be okay. It'll all take some adjustment." Huh. That's... comforting, coming from him. Like he understands.

"So, I was just in the kitchen, raiding the pantries for some snacks. Would you care to join?"

“Sure. You, uh,” you tug your sleeves over your hands, clenching them with cold fingers. “You couldn’t hear me from all the way out there, right?”

He turns his back to you with a laugh, leading you down the hallway.

“No, but I noticed you came home late and, well, I just wanted to see how things went. But I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk to me.”

“You said you wouldn’t wait up.” “I was joking, but I guess it didn’t land well. You might have to get used to my sense of humor.” That was humor?

Damn. When did you get so mean?

On the island counters in the expansive kitchen, he sets out some bowls and fills them with snacks as you take a seat on one of the tall stools.

“Do you like any of these?” “Sure,” you shrug, reaching for one of the bowls.

“If there’s anything you want, put it on a list and I can send it off to be picked up.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I can do my own shopping. Thanks, though.” You’ll have to text your brothers later to tell them how right you are about him.

“Alright, well let me know if you change your mind. I’m just trying to help out.”

You nod, chewing pensively, and he shakes his head to change the subject.

“Anyway, can you tell me what happened tonight? That made you so upset.”

You carefully retell bits and pieces of the meeting, leaving out the part when you stabbed an old man twice with a cigar. You give him the gist of how the family heads don’t entirely back the idea of you and Jungkook gaining control of the syndicate, to which Jay tells you they’ll have to get over it because you’re just doing your family duty.

For a while, you chat, finding that conversation with your fiance comes a little easier than you thought. You guess you just had to give it a chance. He gives you his support for some of the plans you have for the casino renovations and even offers to take a look at the blueprints. He cracks corny jokes every now and then that you have to force a bit of laughter because sometimes they don’t make sense, but you don’t entirely loathe this whole interaction.

He is very charming; you'll give him that. But you still have a prickly feeling that it’s all just an act to be good to you in order to impress your brothers and get on their good side. And once they’re out of sight, no longer around to look out for you, he’ll show his true colors. Maybe you’re just jaded and bitter.

But you don’t think you should let your guard down just yet.

You won’t make the same mistake again.

lmaoooo originally i was aiming for a 12-14k word count. whoops. but it's finally here! this has been a whirlwind. I've been wanting to get this out for a while but i've been kind of nervous about it. honestly im glad i waited because so many things came together for this part that i didn't have before. sorry for the wait.

xxx - claret

thank you for reading 😊

let me know what you think!!! <333

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athforskz · 6 months ago

Text

Third Times the Charm - Lee Minho

Masterlist

type: strangers to lovers, college au, slow burn

pairing: tutor!Minho x afab!reader

wc: ~4.7k + 4 text ss

warnings: unbalanced power dynamic, themes of coercion, strong language, mention of failing academia, use of pet names, crying, dacryphilia, light touching, suggestive, reader is kinda tsundere, Minho is lowkey down bad for reader. MDNI.

a/n: there might be a part 2 for this one.

Enjoy lovelies!

“Alright, attempt number three. Here goes nothing,” you sighed heavily while taking your seat in the overcrowded lecture hall. This was your fourth semester in University and out of those four semesters, three of them were spent in your personal hell hole: organic chemistry. The first time you took this class, you had failed it, plain and simple. The second time you took it, your grade was passing, but barely. Definitely not enough to be accredited for the degree you wanted. Thus, you were back in the damned class once again to at least get a grade that wouldn’t tank your GPA. If you didn’t, then you could kiss that shiny degree goodbye.

The class was mainly filled by first or second semester students. They still looked young and ambitious. There were only a few students that were from your semester, and those that looked older were more than likely teaching assistants. While observing your peers, the professor waltzed in; the loud slam of her bag echoed throughout the lecture hall, effectively quieting the students.

“Okay everyone, time to settle down!” The professor’s voice was loud, authoritative even as she surveyed her new brood of students with sharp eyes. Yes, you’ve taken this class twice before, but never have you seen her teach it. Maybe she was new to the university? Most of the class was filled with going over housekeeping topics, such as the syllabus, laboratory requirements, and expectations for the upcoming semester. You tuned most of it out with having been through this same song and dance numerous times before for all classes. You huffed with your chin resting in the palm of your hand as you doodled mindlessly in your notebook, maybe decorating it would motivate you to study more.

You looked at the time on your phone and saw that it was about 10 minutes before the end of the lecture. You started packing your notebook and pen away just as your professor exclaimed something that caught your attention, “And please don’t forget to use your teaching assistants to your advantage. They are here to help you! Seek them out when you have questions or need someone to study with. I’m sure the TA’s will have no issue in aiding you on your journey through this course. Matter of fact, they will come up to introduce themselves to everyone!”

The few teaching assistants or ‘TA’s’ as your professor dubbed them seemed to look a little frazzled, well all except for one. He didn’t look like he was paying attention at all. One by one each assistant introduced themselves to the class. A couple of them were nervous, rightfully so, it takes a lot of guts to speak in front of a mini auditorium full of students. “Good morning, all! My name is Yeji; I am a graduate student here at the University. Chemistry is my passion, and I will be more than happy to help anyone that needs it. Please, let’s all have a good semester and finish strong!” The woman seemed so happy. You made a mental note to approach the bubbly one that deemed herself, Yeji, so you could make a study group with her. She spoke about the subject with ease and had such a warm confident aura about her. Yeah, she’d definitely be the key you needed to ace the course this time.

The last guy to go was the one that looked less than thrilled to be here, he stalked up to the podium before letting out a loud sigh. “I’m Minho, please hesitat- er.. don’t hesitate to reach out with any problems you may have.” He smirked at the end of his very brief introduction, if you could even call it that.

Was that supposed to be funny?

Even with that horrible introduction you couldn’t deny the man was attractive. Eventually, the end of the class came, and you quickly picked up your bag before the rush of other dismissing students carelessly kicked your things aside. You made your way down to the front of the lecture hall to hopefully introduce yourself to Yeji. It’d be better to formulate a study schedule with her now rather than later. You tried to push through the crowd that didn’t seem to be moving only to find out that the remaining crowd was packed around the TA you needed to speak with. It seemed as if you weren’t the only one that was drawn to her vibrant personality. You had a bit before you needed to get to your next class, so you decided to wait for the crowd to filter out.

Another 15 minutes pass and you can finally get the attention of your desired TA. “Hey! Yeji, right?” She nodded with a bright smile, “my name is Y/n, it’s nice to meet you! When do you think we could meet up for regular steady sessions? I’m free most days after 5pm.” You were being sweet and straight to the point, not wanting to waste time. Her face fell, “Oh, I’m so sorry. All of my sessions have filled up so quickly and I’m not able to offer one-on-ones with my schedule. Maybe one of the other assistants can help you.” She was still so polite, even when letting you down gently. You shook your head with a forced smile that didn’t quite meet your eyes. “It’s okay! I’m sure I can find help with another. Thank you though.” Yeji offered a half bow before making her way out of the classroom. The other two teaching assistants were long gone by now and they probably didn’t have room nor time to individually help you either. “Fuck… now what am I gonna do?” You whined while smacking your forehead.

“I can help you.”

You whipped your head around to the mysterious voice coming from behind you. It was the last TA that introduced himself. You’d already forgotten his name, and that he was even an option for that matter. “No that’s okay. I don’t want to inconvenience you or anything,” you tried to convince him. He took a few steps closer, even the way he walked was nonchalant, then he looked at you up and down slowly with his eyes as if analyzing you. His gaze was making you feel hot, but you couldn’t let him know that his stare was causing something to stir within you. “Seriously, it’s not an inconvenience. To be honest, I probably have the most free time out of all the others.”

Gee, wonder why that is? Maybe because you don’t take things seriously.

“So..?” He further inquired, waiting for your final answer. You raised a brow as if actually debating. “How about we just exchange numbers, and you can reach out if you change your mind,” he pulled his phone out from his hoodie pocket then handed it to you. “Isn’t it more formal to exchange university emails?” You asked while taking the phone from his hand to enter your number. He shrugged with the ghost of a smile on his face, “possibly, but looks like you don’t mind.”

A snort left your nose after you sent a quick text to your phone so his number could be saved in the contact list. After returning his phone you waved him off without another word. Even if he was your type physically, you didn’t really see yourself ever messaging him for help. You only allowed the exchange to happen to avoid coming off as rude. Plus, you didn’t have any other excuse to blow off his gesture.

Another couple of days pass with nothing too eventful happening. The normal hullabaloo at the start of a new schedule not really affecting you anymore since it was the fourth go-round. However, today was the day the chem course had its laboratory portion. The labs weren’t as big as the lecture hall, the entire class was divided into three smaller groups. Along with doing experiments instead of taking notes, the professor was not in charge of the labs, the assistants were.

You had hoped Yeji would be the assistant for your particular lab. Upon strolling into the laboratory, your eyes were blessed with the sight of the vibrant woman. She waved at you with a smile before going to help another student. You watched her with bright eyes while lost in thought:

This will make things so much more bearable! Maybe I’ll even have the chance to ask her a few questions abou- Oh no… you can’t be serious.

Your lips turned down when you caught sight of his handsome features. The other TA that seemed to not take things seriously. He hadn’t seen you yet as he was busy drawing a rather odd face on the chalkboard. Once he finished his little doodle he labeled it ‘jerumi’ prior to nodding his head in satisfaction as if he were proud of his work.

You sighed with an eye roll before heading to your assigned workstation. You familiarize yourself with the equipment and introduce yourself to your lab partner. As you’re exchanging contact info for future project collaborations, you felt a presence looming over your shoulder. A yelp left your mouth, startled, as the man standing behind you looked down at the device in your hands. It was him, of course it was. You placed your phone down on the workbench to avoid your shaky hands from dropping it.

“Do you mind?” You took a step forward to put some distance between your bodies (even though you liked the brief closeness). “Just making sure you aren’t getting off topic. By the way, you haven’t asked me for help yet. We should probably talk about schedules, ya know?”

What in the world is he talking about?

The expression on your face let him know that you had no idea what he was referring to, “remember I’m supposed to be helping you study? I’ve been waiting on you to text me.” That’s right! You made it seem like you accepted his offer in him giving you study sessions. “Right, right! Totally forgot, so sorry about that. The start of a new semester just has me a little frazzled,” you recovered quickly and even punctuated the situation with a fake laugh. You were hoping by not reaching out he would get the hint and leave you be. Obviously, that wasn’t the case and now there’s no hope in just avoiding him since he’s one of the lab assistants. “How about we talk about this later? I’ll definitely remember to shoot ya a message,” you lied. You wouldn’t remember, or rather you flat out wouldn’t do it even if you did remember.

All he did was raise a brow. You chewed the inside of your cheeks, hoping he’d buy the suggestion. The man retrieved his own phone from a pants pocket and did something on the device. Soon your own cell vibrated where it was set. The ever inquisitive (and nosey) man peered at the lit screen, “you don’t even have my number saved.” You quickly snatched your phone and shoved it in your back pocket. “Uh I- I was just trying to think of a good way to save your contact!” you fibbed sheepishly. “Just save it as my name, simple.” He shrugged like his name was the best thing to ever grace a person’s ears which means you should remember, right?

“Riiiight…” you swallowed thickly, praying to whatever higher power that he didn’t ask if yo-

“You don’t remember my name, do you?”

Fuck!

“Of course I remember!” You said a little louder than you intended, now classmates were looking your way, even Yeji peaked over to make sure everything was fine. Your hands covered your cheeks trying to cool yourself down from embarrassment. “Then what’s my name? Go on, say it.” He had a smirk on his lips and a devilish glint in his eye.

Was he teasing? And why does he look so damn good like that?

You kept your mouth shut and avoided his gaze. Moments of silence passed before you heard him scoff, “Figures you don’t remember. It’s Minho. But my friends call me Lee Know if that’s easier for you.” He spoke so fast that you didn’t quite catch what he said. “Lionel?” You repeated.

“No, Lee Know,” he said slower this time. If you weren’t still reeling from the prior embarrassment, you’d think this ‘Lee Know’ is making fun of you. You simply nodded your head to acknowledge you got his name memorized… you think.

Thoroughly satisfied with having checked on you, he went to the next pair of students to annoy help them. You breathed a sigh of relief that he finally left, and you carried on with your lab partner for the remainder of the period.

About a month has passed and the semester is in full swing. Everything had been going great in all classes, even chemistry. You hadn’t needed much help as it was just the basics and because you flat out refused to ask Lee Know for help anyway. You’ve even successfully avoided all of his attempts so far to talk to you after class or in lab. Part of it was because he was actually helping other students (when he wasn’t acting standoffish, nonchalant, or sarcastic). The other part had just been pure luck, or bad luck since you couldn’t stare at his cute face.

However, you didn’t catch how he was aware of your avoidance. Minho could tell in your body language that you rather not associate with him, but he couldn’t figure out why. Why were you so stubborn in accepting his help? Had he done or said something wrong? Couldn’t be that; he’s barely had a real conversation with you. Or maybe you picked up on how he looks at you or how his eyes go soft once he hears your voice. Minho’s heart rate would even increase whenever he got near you, albeit he hasn’t come close to you often, but that’s not the point. He was utterly infatuated at first sight and had to get close to you in some way and those study sessions were his best bet.

You had just made it back to your dorm when a ding echoed from your pocket. The already slumping bag fell off your shoulder and you kicked your shoes off without a care. Thankfully, you didn’t need to worry about being super organized because you got a dorm all to yourself this year. Your hand reached in to pull out your phone to see who had messaged you. Probably just a friend asking if you wanted to grab food later, but no, it wasn’t a friend. It was Minho.

A sigh fell from your lips as you read yet another message from the man. Damn was he persistent. He would occasionally send a message to see if you needed help, but you would always ignore it. You had never messaged him except for the one simple ‘hi’ when exchanging numbers.

Seriously, what’s it going to take for him to catch a hint?

Maybe, just maybe if you respond to him this time and say you don’t need a tutor then he’ll leave you be. The more direct approach oughtta do it.

Well, that’s definitely not what you were expecting. Now you had a so called ‘study date’ with him Friday evening.

Was he being flirty or just overly friendly?

You could think of a million other things to do rather than spend your Friday night studying the subject that’s the bane of your existence with your way too persistent TA. Then again, maybe being locked in a room with him wasn’t a bad idea.

The end of the week came faster than expected, which was both a blessing and a curse. Yes, you were ready to be free from school for the weekend, but before that you had to make it through this study session with Minho.

It shouldn’t take long. I’ll just go in there and show him I know what I’m doing, then boom! Home free. What could possibly go wrong?

You made your way to the underground study rooms that were agreed upon as the meetup point. There was only one room marked as reserved, the rest of them open on account of it being Friday and other students having more fun things to do with the weekend at hand. You took a deep breath before pushing open the door. There sat Minho, his soft hair pushed back out of his face as he organized a few things on the wide tabletop. His focus making him effortlessly attractive. You looked up at the whiteboard on the wall to see a slew of organic chemistry reactions that seemed unfinished. Is this what he wanted you to do today?

Minho looked up from his spot and greeted you with a toothy grin, “Y/n, you actually came!”

Why was he so happy? Did he take his position as teaching assistant seriously for once? He’s so much cuter when he smiles.

“Yeah, wouldn’t miss it for the world..” you trailed off with sarcasm in your tone. You sat opposite him at the table, slinging your backpack onto the ground and taking out your notes. Minho got up from his seat and made his way around to you. You didn’t pay attention to him at first as you were focused on finding a certain section in your notes. Right as you found the page you needed, Minho slammed his hand on the notebook and closed it. “Hey! Why’d you do that?!”

“You said you already knew everything that would be on the exam. So, you shouldn’t need this right?” He waved the journal just above your reach then tossed it to the other side of the table. “Show me what you can do. Finish and balance the reactions on the board,” he nodded towards the dry erase board at the front of the room with a smug look. Great, now his teasing is carrying over from those messages the other night. On top of that, his devious looks aren’t helping to quell the erratic thump in your chest. You stood to your feet while shooting him a glare and stomped over to the board then picked up a purple marker. The marker thumped against your palm as you were looking at the problem on the board trying to figure out the answer.

After a few minutes of thinking you hastily scribbled out your answer. Once finished you turned around with a confident ‘hmph’ as if to challenge him to tell you that you were- “Wrong,” he blurted out while standing from his spot at the edge of the table. Your jaw dropped. “No its not! That’s one of the easiest reactions to do in chemistry. There’s no way I got it wrong.” You protested as he walked over and plucked the marker right from your fingers. You continued to berate him as he ‘corrected’ your answer.

“You’re right ab-“ he started.

“Yeah, I know I’m right and you just messed it up!” You interrupted but he let you finish before he pushed his face dangerously close to yours. You’d have backed up if the table wasn’t already pressed into your lower back.

Minho’s voice was low when he spoke, “As I was saying, you’re right about it being an easy reaction to solve, but you still balanced it wrong. We’ve got some work to do if you can’t even figure this one out y/nnie.” He gently patted your cheek then made his way back to flip through your notebook. To say your head was spinning was an understatement. You weren’t even sure what emotions you were feeling right now. Anger? Embarrassment? Confusion? And maybe turned on?

No, there’s no way he just spoke to me like that! He’s acting all condescending. And what was that tone for anyway? Plus the nickname?? He’s just trying to rile me up..

You shook your head of any other thoughts and emotions before he caught a glimpse of your flustered state. You were now hellbent on proving this man wrong, that you did in fact know how to do easy reaction equations.

“Do you always space out with a scowl on your face?” You hadn’t even noticed he was staring at you when he asked the question. “Only when the mood calls for it,” you answered plainly.

“The mood?” Now his brow was raised. “Yeah, like when someone tells me I’m wrong when I’m not.”

He sighed with a shake of his head, “You aren’t going to learn anything if you’re just going to back talk me the entire time.”

“Well I wouldn’t back talk if you’d explain your reasoning on why my answer was incorrect. Oh, that’s right, you can’t because my answer wasn’t wrong in the first place!” Now you were the one being condescending.

Minho’s eyes narrowed at you. “Maybe if you would shut up and listen, I can tell you what’s wrong so you can actually pass the class for once.”

Ouch, that struck a nerve.

Your demeanor instantly weakened as he stood there and read you to filth. Minho could tell he went too far, and his eyes softened as your gaze averted to a blank corner of the room. “Look I’m really just trying to help you,” he pleaded.

“Then help me, Lee Know.” You sniffled with the faintest of watery eyes. Were you crying? Goodness, Minho sure hopes so. He has a thing when someone cries for him. Minho thinks you look so pretty on the verge of tears, it made him wonder what else you’d look pretty edging, but he shouldn’t focus on that right now. You wiped your eyes with the edge of your sleeve before a tear could fall. Trying to muster up the strength to continue on with this hell of a study session.

After emotions had calmed down, he came closer and showed you how to do the basics correctly. Minho explained that you had been taking notes improperly which made simple things more complicated. Your eyes widened at the realization of how much easier everything became after that.

Maybe he’s not so bad after all.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, Minho’s study session actually helped you. You passed the exam the next week with flying colors. Now that you and he know you’re benefiting from the one on one time, Minho had suggested another session after the next lecture as the topics covered would be more difficult. You wanted to make sure you got things right the first time, so you agreed to meet with him again. Plus spending more time with an attractive guy that is secretly your type was a bonus.

Minho managed to book a different study room this time off-campus. You had heard of the place in passing from a friend but never thought to check it out. When you got there it was more of a lounge type of vibe but you appreciated the change of scenery. Staying on university grounds all the time could make you a bit stir crazy. You made your way towards the back of the building to see your personal tutor already hard at work in one of the study rooms. Your fist made light contact with the doorframe to let him know you arrived.

“Ah, y/nnie come in. Close the door.” He got up to greet you with a hug.

Touching? That's new.

You were caught off guard by his warm gesture but gave him a hug back, your body heating in the process. It was the least you could do since he’s helped so much. You decided to not put much thought into it as you got down to brass tacks. You sat on the couch in front of a coffee table since the desk in the room would be too small for collaboration.

Minho would walk you through each new topic to make sure you had a good understanding of it. All the while he sat dangerously close to you on the couch, his leg brushing against yours. Each time you made a mistake on a structure he’d take your hand and guide you on how to draw it the correct way. At first you really hadn’t noticed, but what tipped you off is when you caught him staring at you instead of the work. Then you started taking note of his lingering touches on your hand or his breath ticking your shoulder. All of this touching was making your body buzz.

Now, Minho was touching your back feening it as just an encouraging gesture but his hand position was low and his fingers danced along your spine. You never told him to stop because you weren’t exactly uncomfortable, but it was making you breathe heavier and lose focus.

Damn, he smells so good.. and that sultry voice he’s using is gonna make me melt.

A hiss from the man brought you out of your fuzzy thoughts and snap your head towards him instead of the paper in front of you. “Watch where you put that hydrogen molecule, kitty. Can’t have you making dumb mistakes.”

Did he just say kitty?

“Hey, I’m not dumb!” You retorted but there was no bite in your tone. You ignored the nickname, thinking it was just a slip of the tongue. He chuckled at your furrowed expression, “that’s not what I meant.”

Minho’s hand came to squeeze your knee then proceeded to rub along your thigh.

Seriously, when did this man get so touchy?

The remainder of the study session went on without any major mess ups from you. The only time you did make a mistake was when Minho got bold with his touching. You never told him you didn’t like it though, his hands were warm and who were you to tell him no if it didn’t hurt anything.

Eventually studying with Minho became a twice weekly regular thing and so did his touching. He remained respectful with the placement of his hands… until today.

You were sat in your dorm room with Minho as all the study rooms were taken on campus and the place off campus was booked too. Guess everyone needed to lock in with midterm exams around the corner.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get this oxidation method down. It’s so complicated for no reason,” you groaned while throwing your head back. “You just need to remember the steps, y/n. It isn’t too bad.” He laughed at your dramatics.

“And how in the world am I going to remember it so easily?”

“Easy. Muscle memory.” He said with almost no inflection. You turned to look at him as if he had three heads. “Lee Know, what the hell are you talking about? In case you forgot this isn’t your dance class we’re studying here. I can’t just pop and lock an oxidation reaction into my body.”

“Sure you can, but it won’t exactly involve dancing.” Now he looked as smug as the Cheshire cat. You were still beyond confused and motioned for him to elaborate, “Ya know I can get you to remember anything by just making you feel good.” Minho’s voice lowered as he leveled himself to your face. “All you have to do is let me touch you. Whaddya say, kitten?”

When did he get so close?

He was so close that you could feel his breath fanning across your neck. Your brain was fuzzy and still swimming with questions, but your body was already having such a reaction to him. You shouldn’t say yes, but saying no isn’t an option either. You needed to do well in this class, you simply didn’t have any other choice.

Without further thought you nodded your head in agreement, “Yes..” Your voice came out shakier, more breathy than intended.

“Yes what? Say it.” He demanded with a stern tone, his hand coming up to hover over your cheek, not yet touching it until he gets an answer.

“You can touch me.” You whispered while leaning into his palm. Your response caused Minho to lean his head back with his eyes shut, a satisfied groan leaving his throat. “Good, now let’s get to work. You’ve got a lot of memorizing to do and I intend on burning it into every inch of your skin.” He placed his hands on your thighs giving them a hard squeeze while spreading them apart. Your skin already felt like it was on fire, but little did you know this was just the beginning.

You had no idea what kind of power you’ve just given to this man but he was definitely intent on showing you.

Surely it couldn’t be that bad, right?

Special thanks to my honey @doitforbangchan for being my beta reader <3

Taglist: @doitforbangchan @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny

#skz oneshots #Minho #lee know #lee minho x reader #stray kids fake texts #stray kids oneshot #skz fic #tutor Minho #college au #skz college au

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feelbokkie · 4 months ago

Text

L♡VE IN F♡CUS | Chapter 14

PAIRING: idol!Changbin x fem reader

WARNINGS: swearing, mention of food

GENRE: smau, crack, angst, fluff

P♡V: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

SUMMARY: Amateur concert photographer Y/n has recently been promoted to junior music journalist. Her first assignment? An exposé on the popular Kpop boy group, Stray Kids. Spending an entire tour doing in depth interviews with eight men seems simple enough, but one member isn't exactly open to the idea. Will Y/n be able to break down the walls around his heart, or will her big break turn into a big disaster?

TAGLIST: closed

W♡RD C♡UNT: 5,066

SCREENSH♡T C♡UNT: 2

A/N: Christmas in November??

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

"Y/n! You're home! Come in, come in!" Wonseok's mom shouts from the hallway once she hears the front door open.

"Hi, mom," You greet warmly as you pull your bags in, Wonseok pushes the door shut to keep the cold air out.

You neatly put your shoes to the side and drop your bag down to greet her with a hug. Her hair is in a messy low bun held together by a gold-colored clip you bought her for her birthday this year.

"Goodness," She pulls away from you and cups your face, examining it from every angle. "Look at you! Have you not been eating well on your trip? Have they been working you too hard?"

You can't help but laugh as you gently place your hands on her wrist. "I ate well, I promise. I'll even show you pictures."

"I'll make you something to eat right now. Wonseok, go put Y/n's stuff in her room." Her hands drop from your face to your hands, ready to drag you off to the kitchen with her.

Wonseok’s mom has been like your surrogate mother ever since your first trip to South Korea. You were a university, studying abroad for your last year in the city that you’d hopefully move to once you graduated. You worked hard, during those first few years of university, to save money to even be able to afford the plane ticket alone. You took on as many jobs as your body would allow you, and you worked hard to maintain a high grade point average so you had no excuse not to go.

You met Wonseok during your first class. The journalism department was small, but still, the class was full nonetheless. You had gotten to class early so you could get a good seat and get some reading done. Wonseok, less studious compared to you, got to class later and took the only remaining spot that just happened to be next to you. He was quiet, either exhausted from the early class or general shyness from sitting next to a complete stranger. He was two years older than you, which you realized was the norm. Wonseok completed his military service right after high school rather than start university and pause halfway through like many men in your department did. He also didn’t want to wait until after he graduated because he wanted to start his career right away.

You found out later that he really didn’t have much interest in befriending you, not that you had any either. But your professor walked in and announced that everyone would be partnered with their current deskmate for the entire semester so you had no choice. After that, you two became quick friends. It didn’t hurt that you were in most of each other’s classes.

It wasn’t until your second semester when Chuseok rolled around and he realized that you had nowhere else to go. So he invited you to go home with him, despite your protests. His mother was more than happy, especially at the fact that her 24-year-old son was bringing a woman home for such a big family holiday. Even after explaining that ‘it wasn’t like that,’ she kept watching the two of you with a hopeful eye sharing anecdotes about how it also ‘wasn’t like that,’ with her and her first boyfriend but they ended up married with two sons. You were worried at first about meeting her. You’ve watched more than enough dramas to know the archetype of the overbearing, protective mother who would scrutinize and ridicule every woman in their son’s life. And you weren’t even dating him. So you were cautious at first when she welcomed you with open arms and a warm smile. It wasn’t until a few months later you realized that she was just like that.

Christmas in South Korea is celebrated more like Valentine's Day in respects to it being more of a couple's holiday than a family one. Which is why you were more than willing to stay in the country and not fly back home the first year that you were there. You wouldn’t have to fly home and deal with unnecessary family drama, not that you were welcomed after “abandoning your family,” as your mother had so kindly put it when you told her that you were studying abroad. And you wouldn’t have felt as lonely if you watched families celebrating around you. When Wonseok mentioned to his mother in passing that you were staying for Christmas and that you were just going to stay at the dorm, she insisted that you come over. Baited by the free food, you went expecting a small, simple Christmas holiday. Only, when you got there, she had insisted on celebrating in a “Western way” so that you would feel at home. It was the first Christmas in your entire 22 years of living where Christmas felt like how you were led to believe it would feel like in Christmas movies. And for the past 6 years, that’s what Christmas has been.

“Mom, let me help Wonnie. My stuff is too heavy.” You laugh as you pat her hand.

“Ah, that boy—It wouldn’t be too heavy for him if he kept up with his military training. He was in the Navy, you know.” She waves you off, gently tugging you away from the entrance.

“I know,” you laugh again. “I kind of miss when he was all buff. Sitting behind a desk most of the day has made him soft. He even gets winded climbing the stairs to get to my apartment.”

“You two do realize that I’m right here, right?” Wonseok rolls his eyes as he sets his own bags down.

“Just leave the stuff by the door, I’ll ask Wonjae to take it up when he gets back from the store.” She returns the eye roll before dragging you off to the kitchen.

You get a glimpse of the living room on your way to the kitchen. It looks like a Hallmark Christmas movie bomb went off. A 6-foot-tall tree stands in the corner of the room undecorated, a task she leaves for when you and Wonseok arrive so that you can do it together.

"Hurry, hurry, you don't want the food to get cold." She pulls you along faster. "Wonseok, quickly put your things away and come eat!"

You stifle a laugh as you hear a string of swears come from Wonseok's direction. His mom either doesn't hear him or is choosing to ignore it for your sake. You've heard about Wonseok's mom used to be when he and his older brother were younger, but that's almost a completely different from the woman you know now. "She's gone soft with her two youngest kids," as Wonseok and Wonjae like to remind you and Frankie.

She ushers you to sit at the small table in the corner of the kitchen. It's too small to be a regular use table to eat family meals at. There's only enough space to barely fit three people in it. It's mostly used for meal prep like cutting vegetables, marinating meat, and sifting through beans. Wonseok once told you that it was the table where he and Wonjae would sit and do homework while their mother cooked dinner. If they were done with their homework or if they didn't have anything to do, they'd sit there and help their mother by doing all of the prep work for her. The first few times you went over to visit, you'd sit there and help her too while you two got to know each other before she let you work alongside her directly.

"What did you make, mom?" You ask as you spread out the utensils she left on the center of the table.

She walks over to the table slowly, carefully holding a hot bowl in hers with only a thin cloth protecting her skin. “I made kimchi-jigae because the two of you have been out in the snow.”

“Wow,” You look at her with an open mouth smile and a twinkle in your eye. “How do you always manage to know what I want?”

“A mother just knows,” she says simply as she turns around to get a bowl of rice and side dishes for you.

“I smell Kimchi-jigae,” Wonseok announces as he makes his appearance in the room. He quickly tosses something in the trash and joins you at the table. “I’ve been craving this for ages!”

“See?” Wonseok’s mom gives you a simple wink as she gets Wonseok some food.

After a few more minutes, Wonseok’s mother comes back to the table with his food. She sets it down in front of him before scurrying off to the stove once more. The two of you wait silently for her to return to the table, both out of politeness and fear of burning your mouths.

She slowly walks back to the table, careful to not spill a drop of whatever is in the mug in her hand. Finally, she takes a seat in the vacant chair at the table.

“Oh look at both of you, so well-mannered waiting for me. You can go ahead and eat,” She cheers as she gestures at both of you.

You watch as Wonseok resists the urge to make a wisecrack remark and instead takes a careful sip of the stew from his spoon.

“Thank you for the meal.” You say quickly before taking your own sip.

Wonseok's mom nonchalantly sips from her mug and watches fondly as both of you eat your food. The heat from the soup and the spice from the kimchi work quickly to thaw out your body from being outside in the snow.

You've been back in Seoul for a few days, but it's barely now setting in that you're on vacation mode. Your flight landed a little earlier than planned and after some convincing, Wonseok drove you to the company building so you could pick up some of the packages and mail that Wonseok and Frankie weren't allowed to pick up for you. Mostly signed "thank you" albums from the groups you wrote album reviews for over the past couple of months.

Wonseok's mom takes another sip of her drink, which you can only assume is tea and lets out a satisfied sigh. “How’s my other daughter? Did she get home safely?”

“She did, she sent us a text when she landed. Knowing Frankie, she’s probably asleep right now. It’s almost 9pm over there and her trip was almost 17 hours long.” Wonseok relays and he searches through his phone. You’d check yours but Wonseok confiscated both your phone and your laptop the second he picked you up from your apartment.

It's all a part of his "make Y/n take a break" initiative. For the next couple of weeks, everyone is going to be allowed to work from home to give the staff members who want to travel for the holidays to do so. The only days that you actually have off are Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and New Year’s Day. Wonseok, knowing you very well, made you hand over your phone and laptop and told you that you’d get them back on the 26th.

“She’ll be here for Seollal, right?” Another sip, another question.

“Um,” You watch as Wonseok goes to his calendar app. Different color bars fill in the dates. “She will be back. She’s only staying until her mom’s birthday.”

“Y/n? Are you going to be here for Seollal or are you going back on the road?” She shifts her attention back to you.

You blink for a moment, trying to remember your schedule for the first half of the year. Korean Lunar New Year changes its date every year. This year it was at the beginning of February. Next year it’s… “When is it?”

“January 29th—a Wednesday! This year it was on a Saturday.” Wonseok grumbles as he slides his phone back into his pocket.

“Oh, I’ll be back home then. There are two more shows in Hong Kong but they’re on the 18th and 19th so we’re not going to rush back. After that, I’m home until the second leg of the tour starts in March.” You nod quietly to yourself. There’s not much in your head at the moment other than Stray Kids’ tour schedule.

“Oh good!” She sets her cup down on the counter and claps her hands together. “That means the three of you can come here.”

“Mom, I love you but I’m not spending Seollal at home with my parents.” Wonseok whines.

“Ah, cover your mouth before you talk.” His mom nags as she gets a napkin and places it in his hand. “And you wouldn’t have to spend holidays with your parents if you had a girlfriend.”

“Y/n is single too. So is Frankie! And Wonjae hyung too.”

“I'm not worried about Y/n. She’s almost there since she’s traveling with all those handsome and pretty men. There's eight of them, right? You're still young, you don't have to settle down with one of them. Just have fun and--"

"Mom!" Wonseok groans, burying his head in his hands.

“What?" She asks innocently. "I was young once. How do you think you got here?”

“Adoption,” Wonseok answers quickly.

“That would have been easier than what actually happened. I was in labor with you for 12 hours. You had a big head." She pats Wonseok's normally shaped head.

Wonseok stares into space for a moment thinking, or maybe dissociating, before letting out a deep sigh and setting down his spoon. “…Suddenly, I’ve lost my appetite,”

You clear your throat both to stifle a laugh at Wonseok's expense and to redirect the conversation. Fortunately, the redirection worked. Unfortunately, the attention is brought back to you.

"Speaking of which, Y/n, has anything sparked between you and any of those boys? What's their name? Lost Boys or something like that?" Wonseok's mom eagerly turns to you. You know she doesn't get these kinds of interactions with either of her sons. You and Frankie are the only ones who'll even talk to her about this sort of thing.

"Stray Kids," You correct politely. "And no, it's not exactly professional. I'm there just to take photos of them and interview them for the company."

"That's true, and I admire your professionalism. But your heart and your brain aren't always in agreement. Your brain might be focused on the business aspect of things, but your heart has no true understanding of those boundaries. Nobody is going to fault you for having feelings for one of them. And you're a very intelligent, loving, and capable woman who is also very beautiful, I wouldn't be surprised if all of them fell for you."

"Mom," Wonseok quickly grabs a napkin and wipes the corners of his mouth. "The heart may want what it wants but you don't understand the field Y/n works in. Even if the idols are allowed to date, many of their fans will cause an uproar so it's just better not to. Plus, even if it were easy, she would do all of them all of the time or work in her hotel room. She doesn't have the time."

Wonseok isn't completely incorrect. He's right about how difficult and troublesome dating an idol would be. The amount they work alone is taxing and you're not sure how any of them would have time for a personal and dating life on top of that. But some members of their fanbase don't understand the meaning of the word "boundaries" and would make the life of whoever is dating an idol, hell. But he is wrong about the fact that you're with all of them all of the time. In your free time, you are with some of them as they continue to visit you while you work in cafes. But more recently, Changbin has made more of an appearance in your daily life, without any of the other members.

You know for a fact that he hates the idea of being pent up in a hotel room when he's on tour so he tries to do something every day so he's not stuck inside. But after the two of you officially reconciled, he's been making his way down to the cafe where you're often emailing your team members back and forth or working on your parts of the project. Most of the time, he sits there quietly, doing his own work while you do yours. And then after a while, he'll invite you to go and eat with him somewhere to take a break. Somehow, you've found yourself around the person you disliked the most at first. It’s not like you’ve imagined crossing the boundary between artist and journalist into…romantic partners (?) with Changbin. But you somehow found yourself being the closest to him out of all of the members and you two are alone in public a lot. So if there were ever an opportunity for a dating scandal, it would be with him.

"Love knows no bounds. Trust me, I hated your father at first and he hated me. Once we reconciled our differences, we started to become friendly, but my parents weren't the biggest fans of it. And his mother absolutely hated me. Still, we got married, had you and Wonjae, and eventually your grandparents got nicer. It was tough but we survived it."

“I think having your in-laws hate you is different than having basically the whole world hate you. What’s that phrase you always say, Y/n? ‘Hell hath no fury like a sasaeng scorned?’” Wonseok turns his attention to you, an amused smile creeping up on his face.

“That’s one part. The company will always make matters worse too. Plus, I’m meant to be behind the camera. Not in front of it. That's where I'm most comfortable.” You shrug him off, gently kicking him under the table to tell him to change the subject.

"Alright, alright, enough about Y/n's nonexistent love life," Wonseok laughs, turning back to his mother. "When are dad and Jae hyung coming back?"

"Maybe they ran away," She shrugs nonchalantly before taking one more large sip from her cup.

Both you and Wonseok can't help but laugh at her unbothered nature. The three of you continue to eat your food, making light conversation as you catch up. Both Wonseok's dad and brother returned home by the time you finished eating and began sorting through the ornaments in the box beside the Christmas tree.

The rest of the day was pretty much similar. The five of you stayed in the living room, setting up the tree while a drama played in the background. You, Wonseok, and Wonjae decorated the tree while their mother went back and forth between cooking and directing where to put what. Their dad mostly sat on the couch, micromanaging where the ornaments should go and commenting on the drama. As stressful as it was--decorating for holidays always comes with its own stressors--it was the most relaxed you've been in a while.

***

"It's bulletproof, mother fucker," You, Wonseok, and Wonjae quote in unison.

"Goodness," Wonseok's mother yells from the kitchen. "Can't the three of you watch something more festive? It's Christmas!"

You and Wonseok chuckle quietly to yourselves as Wonjae grabs the remote and raises the volume. You watch as he sets the remote back down on the coffee table, next to a few opened boxes from earlier.

Much to your annoyance, both Wonseok and Wonjae had woken you up around 8 in the morning, despite the fact that the three of you were up late drinking and talking outside until late. While you were still waking up, they went to wake their parents up and then all 5 of you went downstairs to open gifts and eat breakfast together. After a couple of hours of opening gifts and eating, the three of you decided to just sit around and watch movies while their dad went on a walk and their mom disappeared off into the kitchen.

"Ah, it's a duplicate. Wonnie, do want either of these?" Wonjae nudges his younger brought with the bottom of his foot. Wonseok looks up and sees that his older brother is holding up two Pokemon cards, part of the Christmas gifts you brought both of them from Tokyo.

"Munchlax and Snorelax? I already pulled those," Wonseok shakes his head and goes back to going through his cards and watching the movie.

"Can I have them?" You sit up on your elbows and turn your attention away from the movie.

"Yeah, sure," Wonjae reaches over Wonseok and hands you the cards. You take the cards from him and go back into your original position, examining the foiled cards in your hands.

"When did you start collecting cards?" Wonseok peers over his shoulder at you as you set the cards down in your pile of gifts.

"It's not for me. I know someone who loves Munchlax and Snorelax. Might as well give them to someone who'll appreciate them." You hum as you try to focus on the movie again.

Ring ding dong, ring ding dong

Ring diggy ding diggy ding ding ding

Both you and Wonjae look around the room for the sudden music. A few seconds later Wonseok jumps up and digs his phone up from the pile of Pokemon card wrappers.

"When the fuck did you change your ring tone to Ring Ding Dong by SHINee?" You scoff as you sit up.

"When my K-pop-obsessed best friend stopped being here to harass me with music every day," He mutters under his breath, his ears quickly turning red as he answers the call. "What do you want?"

You settle back down on the couch, making sure to throw your legs over Wonseok's lap before trying, once again, to watch the movie.

"Huh? Y/n? She's right here...Why are you calling me if you want to talk to her?"

"Because you took away my phone, you dumbass," You kick Wonseok as you pull yourself up again.

"Oh, that's right," He says sheepishly. You grab the remote and pause the movie. "I'm going to put you on speaker."

"I'm going to go, I have a date later. Thank you, Y/n," Wonjae smacks the back of Wonseok's neck and pats you on the head as he gets up before retreating upstairs to his room.

"Thank God Wonnie picked up the phone or else I would have thought something absolutely diabolical was going on," Frankie whines on the phone.

You quickly grab the phone from Wonseok's hands. He pulls a face at you, almost like the mere idea of dating you can make him throw up. You try your best to keep your own breakfast down. "Never say that again, Franks." You whine back.

"Well, you're the one who didn't pick up their phone!" You hear some rustling on the other side. "Merry Christmas, by the way."

"Merry Christmas, Francesca!" Both you and Wonseok cheer in unison.

"I'm only calling now because I've had a day today and I'm planning on getting shit-faced and sleeping in tomorrow." She mutters, the exhaustion heavy in her voice. "What did you guys do? What did you get?"

"Not much," You grab some of the wrappers that fell on the floor and hand them to Wonseok. "Got some clothes, books, and self-care stuff. We've been watching movies all day though. Which is why my phone has been held hostage."

"I'm craving hotteok so I'm going to see if I can convince you to go out with me to get some later." Wonseok pips up. He tries to get his phone back from you but you pull it just out of his reach.

"I'd kill for hotteok right now. Seriously, I'd trade my sister for a bite." She groans on the other end of the phone.

"How's Cape Elizabeth?" You ask softly. You know how stressed she gets around her family. And if she's calling you close to midnight her time, she's probably losing it.

"Small," More rustling plays through the speaker. "Speaking of which, Wonseok op--Wonnie, I need to ask you something."

There's a slight pause both on the phone and in the room. If you didn't know any better, you'd think you accidentally hit the pause button on the room. Maybe even yourself. Like you're somehow interrupting something. Wonseok doesn't look at you and instead focuses on the phone in your hands.

"It's fine, you can talk. I'm going to go and take a shower since someone wants me to leave the house in below-freezing weather on my last day off for a while." You hand the phone back to Wonseok and collect your things.

"Are you sure? I did call to talk to you."

"Yeah, just call me after if you aren't too drunk by then." You make a kiss noise over the intercom and then organize your bags of gifts.

Ready to go, you stand right in front of Wonseok and stick out your hand, palm facing up. He looks at you for a moment before digging into his pocket and gently placing your phone in your hands. You let out a satisfied hum before running upstairs, going right past the first articles you, Frankie, and Wonseok ever wrote printed and framed on the wall right next to pictures of all three of you.

You quietly scroll through your phone as you walk up.

You still aren't used to your lock screen or the contact names on your phone. Seungmin changed them for you while you were at the airport. Originally, you thought he was only going to change the lock screen. Before, you had a picture that you had taken at a concert you covered earlier in the year.

But then Seungmin went on a longwinded rant about how unprofessional it was for you to have another group on your phone while you were temporarily on the staff for them. You gave him your phone and told him to "go ape shit" thinking that he'd just change the photo. You didn't expect him to change the contact names and photos of all of the members while he was at it.

You set your phone down on the bed and dig through your suitcase for something you can wear when you go out with Wonseok. It's only to get hotteok but knowing Wonseok, the two of you are going to get sidetracked and be out later than you planned.

Oink, oink!

You look around on the floor, confused about where the noise came from. Your eyes finally land on your phone with the screen lighting up brightly. Another thing you didn't realize. Seungmin gave everyone custom ringtones. You laugh to yourself as you pick up your phone and answer.

"Hello?" You continue digging around your bag, tossing possible contenders onto your bed to look at later.

You hear some movement on the other end of the line before someone clears their throat.

"Good morning, noona! Merry Christmas," Changbin's familiar soft, warm voice rings in your ear.

"Good morning and Merry Christmas to you too." You find a sweater that you like at the bottom of the bag and set it on top of everything else. "You didn't have to call by the way."

"What? I can't call and greet my elders properly?" He jokingly scoffs.

"I'm barely 3 years older! Don't act like I'm on my deathbed!"

"Three years is a lot at your age. Be careful, noona!" He teases further.

"Did you call me just to bully me, Changbin-ssi?" You press your phone between your shoulder and cheek while you get up from the floor.

"I called to wish you a 'Merry Christmas!'" You can hear him click his touch over the speaker. "And to make sure you're not working on stuff right now."

"It's Christmas Day,"

"You never know with you!"

"This is coming from the man whose group announced a comeback two days after a Japanese release, during a world tour." You backflop down onto the bed, staring at the smooth white ceiling. Part of you wonders if Changbin is also lying in a similar position.

It's weird, how normal this conversation is. If someone were to tell you that you'd be sitting on the phone talking to one of the idols you followed and admired on Christmas Day and that he had hated you for a few months, you're almost certain that you'd have a stroke.

"Touché," A loud laughter rings through the phone. "No, but seriously, I'd rather call and wish everyone a merry Christmas."

"All of your group members texted me,"

"They're boys," You can almost picture the creeping up on Changbin's face as he tries not to laugh. How his neck and ears might be slowly turning red. "And incredibly shy. Even the extroverted ones"

"Oh trust me, I know. I've been around all eight of you long enough to know."

There's a pause. You can hear a low hum coming from Changbin's end of the line. Other than that, you can only hear your own breathing and the buzzing from the heater above. It's still awkward between you and Changbin, even more so over the phone. At least when you were on tour, it made sense to have conversations like this with him. But now--

"If I'm being completely honest, I'm kind of bored. My noona has plans with her boyfriend and my parents are taking naps before going out to dinner." He admits softly.

"Then it's a real shame that I'm going to have to leave you soon."You flip over to your stomach and start to pull at the fabric of your comforter.

"Oh, you have plans? I didn't realize that you had a b--"

Knock, knock, knock

"Y/n! I'm going to take a shower real quick and then we can go!" Wonseok calls from the other side of the door.

"Okay!" You call back, You scramble to your feet and grab clothes at the top of the pile. "Sorry, Changbin, I have to get ready or else there's going to be a hangry situation. I'll talk to you later?"

"Yeah, I'll call again around the New Year's. Goodbye, noona!"

"Merry Christmas, Changbin!" You hum one more time before hanging up the call and getting your things ready.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

TAG LIST (closed)

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

@amyyscorner @puppysmileseungmin @lixie-phoria @yongbbokkie @spearb-99

@weird-bookworm @stayconnecteed @brain-empty-only-draken @hanniemylovelyquokka @sunshinessky

@marked-unknown @lanatheawesome @theblindhag @skz-f0rlif3 @f9clementine

@kalopsian-thoughts @ismelllikechlorine247 @hyunjineret @kangaracharacha @slut4colinbridgerton

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@stay278 @phtogravi @hannahs-docx @jihanlovic @alnex05

@beccaskz @starlostastronaut @itsseohannbin @kayleefriedchicken @anushasstuff

@jutdwae-archives @dazzlingjade @itzella @divineinsanity @skzjen

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crescencestudio · 3 months ago

Text

๋࣭⭑ Devlog #45 | 12.02.24 ๋࣭⭑

well, this is more like a half devlog if i'm being honest

Hi everyone! Man, it's been a while since we last talked, huh? Somehow my last devlog to you all was end of August, and now we're all the way in December. It's crazy to know I was in my cave for that long LMFALSIDJF

I don't usually do devlogs starting the last two months of the year---usually because I end up getting busy, and with it being the holidays, I just give myself the devlog off as my one little "holiday treat."

This year, it's a bit different since I haven't given you all a devlog in quite a while. I have exciting and boring news to share with you all this month! First off for exciting news, as I'm sure you've all heard....

I'M A DOCTOR!!!!!!

That's RIGHT. The step away from Alaris was everything I needed to be able to crunch my dissertation and graduate this semester. To say it was painful would be a complete understatement. For context, people usually spend about 1 year writing and defending their dissertation. Since I last spoke to you all, I ended up analyzing, writing, and defending my entire dissertation in the span of about 2-3 months. Basically every moment that I existed as a living being was spent working on my dissertation (if I wasn't working), and even a month after I defended I'm in disbelief that I was able to pull it off.

But here I stand before you all, finally free from the confines of academia after a grueling 4 years.

I have worked on Alaris the entire time I've been in PhD school, and so there's literally no one here who knows me outside of being a PhD student. So it's crazy to enter a new chapter of game dev where I no longer have to balance work, PhD school, and Alaris. And instead, I can be a normal person that just balances work and game dev.

That being said...

I know I had told you all I would be back in the Alaris grind in November since that would be around the time when my defense would be. And while I've literally tried my damnedest to get back on the game dev horse, it's been a Fckn Struggle, everyone.

I don't think I realized how hard I was working myself until this past month rolled around and I entered recovery mode. Admittedly, I actually think I was working myself harder when I was balancing Alaris with work and PhD stuff than when I was crunching a 1 year dissertation project into 2 months. And this might not be a new revelation to some people---even earlier this year, I remember getting comments of like "wow, you're working so fast/hard!" "omg how are you getting all this done?" "you need to be nicer to yourself, i don't think you realize how much work you actually do" etc. etc.

But I think because I enjoy game dev so much, I didn't see it as working myself hard. Now, though, after getting some clarity and seeing how much that was affecting my physically, I really want to make it a point to take care of myself better and not push myself too hard (life is too short and healthcare is too expensive LMALSDF).

So, while this isn't me saying Alaris is going on hiatus or anything scary like that, I do hope you all can extend a bit more of your patience and understanding at least until the end of this year for me to get back into the swing of things. I have genuinely been thinking about Alaris a lot---the script and scenes I want to write, CGs I want to draw, etc. But I just haven't had the physical energy to do it.

I'm hoping writing this devlog will help me get back into the swing of things this month. But I do want to be transparent that the holiday season tends to get busy for me, so I don't want to make promises of working on Alaris at any kind of full capacity.

Luckily, a lot of Alaris is done. If you all remember, the only route that needs to be written at this point is Aisa's. And half of the routes have been programmed! While Etza and Kuna'a's routes do need to be cleaned up and edited, a lot of the foundational work, which is most time-consuming for me is done. So I do still hope to get Alaris to you all (at least the Central routes) in early 2025!

Thank you all as always for being patient and understanding. As I get back on the Alaris horse, I also hope to get back into answering your messages <3 Hope you all are staying warm and having a restful holiday season.

#alaris #devlog

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ashtxrie · 1 month ago

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we stay locked in

— alternatively, enhypen as (my) high school classes!

PAIR. high school! enhypen x gn!reader (rest under cut) GENRE. humor, high school au, blurbs WORD COUNT. 1.3k total NOTES. hello enhablr i am BACK. sorry guys this is alternatively known as a super self-indulgent enhypen as my classes this year so i don’t crash out in semester 2 post

이희승 — lee heeseung

philharmonic orchestra. he’s there for the vibes (and to fulfill his performing arts graduation credit requirement) but he’s secretly super invested in music theory. the type to say “i didn’t practice at all lol” the day of the audition but still eat that shi up anyway?? people tell him to stop the cap but honestly, he has the raw talent to pull it off as well so nobody really knows. he WILL be that person clocking people who use the restroom for the nth time in the middle of the firebird suite though, but man, sometimes people really do need that bathroom break for their mental and physical wellbeing. as his stand partner, he’s really good at covering for you if you make a mistake and even takes mutual blame for coming in early even though it was definitely your fault for taking a nap during your 5-measure rest... he’s that one student who gets to conduct the orchestra when the conductor is absent (or “sick” on a vacation to disney world) and the ensemble actually respects him enough to take him seriously.

박종성 — park jongseong

ap us history. we all know this man loves history; he would actually be the type to read the textbook for fun and not just search up summary pdfs or upload the whole dang thing to chat gpt! i feel like quizlet would be his best friend and would probably terrorize all his other friends to build their quizlet flashcard streaks with him. lowk he’s just in this class so he can flex random history facts on uninformed people I’M SORRY he secretly enjoys somewhat resembling the “umm actually!” meme. but honestly you go jay, being educated IS rightfully a flex. i feel like he’d actually talk to the teacher after class just to ask a clarifying question or just to confirm something totally random; he’d be like “was there really a u.s. entomological warfare field test called operation big itch?!” and the teacher would absolutely love him for that. on practice dbq days, he’s the best person to have on your team — you know you’re set when he gives you the look and little nod that communicates that he 100% got this.

심재윤 — sim jaeyun

ap calculus bc... THIS MAN WILL GLAZE THE HELL OUT OF AP CALCULUS BC. just like how he is adamant about his physics glazing, math is no exception. tell me why he’s legitimately taking advantage of ten minutes at the end of class to get started on his homework? put that TI-84 AWAY and look me in the eyes. he’s the one classmate who’s super nonchalant and sporty and sits in the back of the classroom, but is secretly an academic weapon. “jake sim, wonderful work. you were the only one in the class who got 100.” HELLO??? good thing you always go over to him for a post-exam debrief, because he’s basically the answer key anyway. during class, he’d be quietly doing his own thing and joking around with the people around him, but the teacher lets it slide. everyone in the class is conflicted between loving and hating him, but he’s genuinely so nice and is always eager to help the people around him who need it — that still doesn’t stop the entire class from naming him their D1 opp though!

박성훈 — park sunghoon

ap biology. the one who spites people who obliterate the curve. he’s also the best frq peer-grader though, he’s going off of vibes! if you mention anything remotely close to the answer key, you bet he’s giving you the point because people suffer enough already. sunghoon is surprisingly good at the labs though, he managed to not kill a single fly in the mendelian genetics lab and he’s super diligent at counting them too. your other lab mates had exhaled a bit too harshly one time and the sedated flies went FLYING across the lab table from under the microscope — you swear sunghoon’s eye twitched because he had JUST sorted them all by phenotype. he didn’t say anything to them though, and just started recounting the flies again because he’s just a chill guy like that. what people don’t know about him is that he actually scores high enough to potentially set the curve, he just chooses not to raise his hand when the teacher asks for top scores because he’s #taking one for the team. what a legend.

김선우 — kim sunoo

advanced journalism. producing a newspaper? more like an excuse to know ALL the gossip and put everything under the name of investigative journalism. it’s literally his JOB to be on top of all the school events and the niche hobbies and passions that students have, and he absolutely loves it. combined with his social personality and strong writing, he’s for sure the editor of the “spotlight” category. and honestly, he’s the best the school has had in a long time. his feedback is always something to look forward to too — as one of his staff writers, your drafts are handed back with a colored pen circling a particular phrase you used, with the words “someone cooked here” or “OH YES GIRL” written in the margins. he brings the best food for after-school mandatory work days too, from donuts to chips to canned drinks — sunoo knows that the people need the snacks in order to gain enlightenment mid-article! his pages in the newspaper are also the most visually appealing too, this man knows how to use adobe indesign.

양정원 — yang jungwon

ap english language and composition. with how diligently he uses duolingo, i have no doubts that jungwon will succeed in ap lang. imagine if he applies that study technique to memorizing rhetorical devices? he would be reading something completely random like the instagram terms of service and going “omg wait guys this is anaphora” like okay english king. and the effort he puts in shows in his results too. when jungwon checked his grades to see a 100% on the timed write while every one of his friends complained for a whole week about getting an 80, he knew he was locked IN. he participates a lot during class discussions too, so everyone knows who he is. as a fellow #taking one for the team legend, he always agrees to be the sacrifice to share out to the class the table group’s ideas. also — something not exactly english-focused, but he’s also so alarmingly good at time management. like how is he maintaining a solid sleep schedule and clear skin while watching alchemy of souls during his pomodoro breaks? the world will never know.

西村力 — nishimura riki

ap chemistry. hear me out he signed up for this class thinking he could blow stuff up. he did not, in fact, get to blow stuff up all year — the blowing was done instead in the form of a huge blow to this man’s gpa. like what do you mean there’s solubility rules, polyatomic ions, vsepr geometric structures and their BOND ANGLES, plus gas law equations to memorize?! he went slightly delirious mid-semester and came up with insane, unhinged references just to drill all the content into his memory, from connecting acetate (CH3CO2-) to his “esteemed rizz mentor” heeseung (3 letter e’s in his name and he breathes out CO2!) and imagining his friends on a fucking seesaw to memorize the <90 and <120 degree bond angles. he tried explaining his logic to you (rapping out the equation for the van der waals real gas law?) and you just went along with it. he actually pulled through though with a B+ at the end of it all, but he swears to never have jake in charge of his course selection ever again.

TAGLIST: @star-sim @boyfiejay @jlheon @jwsdoll @dimplewonie @suneng @en-gelic @mygnolia

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florsial · 11 months ago

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I’m sorry but bartylus will forever remain in my heart as the young teenage couple who married the moment they got out of college, maybe even earlier.

They met in elementary and were unofficially dating from 7th grade to freshman year of high school until Barty loudly shouted out “THAT’S MY BOYFRIEND FUCKFACE!” When some dude insulted Regulus’ overly pretentious attitude. They were never seen separated and are often found in the halls holding hands and getting food together, they share a locker so people often see Barty getting snacks from Regulus’ locker, and spend their free period in each other’s classes so much so that the teachers just accept the extra student.

Sirius runs away and Barty is with him nonstop that he tries to switch his classes to be with him, but only stops cuz it’s too late in the semester. They get engaged during graduation and run away in the middle of the night to elope and officially cut off their family (except Mrs Crouch) when they enter college.

They are the messy and sleazy married couple with the deepest and loyal love for each other, it’s just a little hard to tell with the bickering. They have 2 cats and German shepherd who they treat better than anyone else and Barty makes vulgar comments when older people comment on how young they married.

They spent their honeymoon going around restaurants and fake proposing to get free deserts before heading back to their tiny apartment and basically disappear for like 3 months which makes their friends worried asf until they spot Regulus and Barty getting ice cream in a park one midsummer and Dorcas is like “I NEARLY CALLED THE COPS??”

Kay that’s all gnnnm

#when sirius reconnects with reg he is strangely disappointed that reg got married so young #he does send a basket of Disney dvds and ice cream as a last wedding gift tho #I love them #they special to me ok #regulus black #marauders era #regulus arcturus black #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #bartylus #starkiller #barty crouch jr x regulus black #regulus black x barty crouch jr #regulus x barty #bartylus hcs

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gardensofbabilon · 3 months ago

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✧all that you ever wanted was.. sweet nothing. - Ben Shelton.

☆ a/n: this is not my first language but i am sad so i think i'll juts write small stories.. promise a happy one next!

☆ summary: being together for 4 years has been nothing but a dream, of course everyone envies dating the college top player and the us tennis star.. but do they really know how hard it is for you?

The hot florida air gets into your apartment window as the sun is going down for the 237th time this year. August gets closer to an end - but for your boyfriend this is the best part of the year: flying with you to new york, playing at the center court of his home tournament, this is all he ever wanted.

You were used to be seen, ben has always attracted eyes and everyone's attention for as long as you can remember but honestly, you never cared, all you knew as that inside your small place and in your intimacy he was just another normal guy.

The truth is, being with someone for four years is almost a lifetime. That was a certificate that the two of you would be married very soon - but that was never on board for both of you, at least now that you were never encountering for more than 2 weeks, the dream of being married faded from your memory alongside the great moments you collected on the first two years of being together.

''I'm not going to the open this year'' you announce to him.

''Why? What's wrong?" he says looking into his phone.

"I told you, I'm at my last semester and the final project is due next week. I can't be at two places at the same time.''

Ben sensed the weird tone on your voice, he looked at you imediatly, the room suddenly felt smaller, both of you knew what those words meant.

"I'm sorry, it slipped my mind.. You won't make to any of the games?"

"I don't think i'll ever make to another game, sorry." The words slipped from your month when you least expected it to do so.

It was done. You said it.

A year ago you would never say such a thing, two years ago it would be insane to think like that, the only thing the both of you talked about really was how after graduating he would get you the ring you dreamed for so long and then the wedding plans would go as he played.

The real deal was that 2023 went by and he did what he knew to do best: play well and win, and you watched. You loved the thrill, the joy in witnessing his moves, his joy to be doing what he dreamed and loved, that's how you wanted to stay forever. But them the travels intensified, the distance was bigger every week, the timezone pushed him more, you watched he fade away from your life. Of course you wanted to be there, but as a foreing student with a scolarship you could not afford drop out or just leave uni for weeks to follow him around, these were the types of things that drove him apart more and more.

"What is this about? You can't walk away." he approached you at the couch.

"When was the last time we sat on the couch and actually spent some time together? Or better, when was the last time I talked and you listened when it was not about you or your tennis? Do you even remember our plans ben?"

"Of course i remember, you said that once you graduated you would be at my games.."

"No. The deal was for us to get engaged. See? You can't even recall what you promised me two years ago." You say interrupting him.

"See! We have plans. You can't quit on us, on something we have been thinking and planning for so long.." Ben put his hand over yours "If it's a ring that you want, that's what i get you, just don't.. don't go. I'm so sorry I've been away, it's just that this year has been so much to me.."

You nod, taking a step back and scooping your hand off his.

"I don't want to be a consolation prize ben. You know better than anyone that I'm the most supportive person of your future, I don't mind you playing, you focusing.. what bothers me is that this is all you ever think about. I'm never on your mind, not even when I'm here or when I'm telling you things, you just tend to zone out whenever the words that i say are not related to tennis.''

Ben froze with your words. He could not believe that's how you saw him after so long of being together "Please, don't say that, you are all that matters to me.. I need you."

"I stopped being the thing that mattered the most a long time ago, now all that you want is another huge check on your account. I will not settle for this."

"Please Y/N don't say that, give me one chance to prove you"

"Ben, just leave" I get up pointing at the door. "No more scenes, just go."

He looked at you with a deep sense of sadness in his eyes, you never saw your boyfriend with such a sorrow in his face, not even when you saw him lose the most important matches, but now there was no stepping back.

"You can't do that, I love you." Ben said as he gets closer to you, just a few steps from the door.

"We stopped loving eachother several months ago." You swallow the words as they come out of your month, it had still a sense of weirdness in accepting your fate and seeing that your destiny was not him. Not anymore.

Ben nods as a tear fell from his eyes. "I'm sorry, I really am. Do you really want me to go?"

"I do. Please." You reply looking away from him, avoiding eye contact with every strenght you still had in your body.

"Will we meet again?" He asks with his hand on the door handle.

"I have no idea." You sigh "Goodbye Benjamin."

Ben opened the door and your eyes met for the last time. It was a long time coming. Time froze around you both and the last glance went on for five minutes, the last look on the eyes of the person you spent the past four years staring into every given second. This would never happen again, not in this lifetime, and all you felt was sorry.

"I will miss you" He did not say with his voice, but he mimic with his month as he closed the door before any answer.

maybe in another lifetime. maybe in another universe all our plans would've worked out.

#ben shelton #ben shelton x reader #ben shelton fic #tennis #atp tennis #sad thoughts #taylor swift #ben shelton x you #fanfic #bebs write!!!!

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mingirn · 11 months ago

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only lovers alive

song mingi x reader

synopsis: you return back home after graduating college to a new relationship you have to navigate with your childhood best friend

warnings: smut, a lot of mentions of sexual acts, drinking, insecurities, jealousy, dirty talk, phone sex, sort of (very brief) exhibitionism, gender neutral reader

word count: 20,3k

notes: hello. i’ve had this sitting in my drafts for 1-2 years and saw a tweet that said ”i’d pick you up from the airport in every universe” and decided to let this out of jail bc of that. although the fic itself is inspired by this song. fic title comes from this song. i’m gonna schedule this to post while i’m asleep because i’m terrified to post after not being on here for such a long time. please be gentle with me >:(

It’s dark outside your window, but the streets are lit up by countless glimmering lights. Even though the day is turning into night, there’s still plenty of traffic. Beaming headlights join the streams of light from street lamps, and it’s just your apartment that is missing a glow from a lamp on its windowsill. You’ve got all yours packed up and sent away already, and you’re taking in the city for the last time.

”Are you going to miss it?” Mingis's voice is soft on the other end of the phone. You’ve got him on speaker, lying right next to you.

”I guess, yeah. It’s been nice, even though I haven’t spent much time exploring or enjoying the city.”

It’s true. You’ve just finished your last semester and finally graduated after moving hours away from your hometown to go to your dream school. It feels like eons since then, when you had to say tearful goodbyes to your friends and family and settle down in a cramped little dorm room. You’d been lucky enough to get student housing in your last year, a bigger place where you’d been living for the past two semesters. This city wasn’t just a stark difference to your hometown, it was the definition of complete and total opposite.

The town you grew up in was the type to hide, not really forgotten, just barely there. Small and tucked away between long stretches of forests and fields. You’d be blessed to live there your whole life, yet lucky to get away. You’d go home to visit during summer break and just bask in how simple life was back home, but beyond all, how it was still home to all the things you held most dear. Top of that list: Mingi.

”You’ll always be able to go back, maybe we can go during the summer and you can take me to that Chinese place you’ve talked so much about,” Mingi says. He’s starting to sound a little sleepy, and it’s a reminder that you should probably get to sleep soon. You’ve got an early flight to catch, then it’s just a span of a few hours separating you and Mingi. He’ll be coming to pick you up, so you suppose you better let him go too so he can get some sleep.

”You know I’d love that,” you smile, and slump down on your bed. ”I think we should head to bed though, maybe we should leave this future talk for some other time.”

He hums in agreement, and the line goes quiet for a minute. You can hear his breathing through the speaker, slow and steady. When you close your eyes it’s almost like he’s here.

”Hey, uh,” he begins, and he swallows audibly. ”Do you think it’s gonna be weird?”

Ah, there it is. You’ve almost been waiting, expecting, him to ask it.

”No, I don’t… It’s not like we haven’t seen each other since I moved away. We’ve spent almost all of the last three summers together, right?” you reason. It’s not really what Mingi is referring to, but you have to start somewhere. Soften him up, reassure him.

”Well yeah, yeah, I know. It’s just different because we weren’t doing those things then, and now it’s… well, different.”

”Mingi,” you say with firmness in your voice. ”It would only be different if you said and did all those things just because it was over the phone. If you didn’t mean any of it.”

Mingi takes another moment of silence, and you can imagine that he’s probably chewing nervously on his bottom lip. It makes you a bit nervous as well, the fact that you can’t see him. You’d always been so good at reading his face and figuring out what he was thinking. You need that more than ever now, the ability to read him, because so much has changed.

”I’ve meant every word I’ve ever said,” he says, and something about the words feels so heavy and serious, and he seems to realize it too. ”I really, really want to fuck you, not just over the phone.”

Mingis voice is normal when he says it, not a hint of underlying desire or desperation, but the words themselves send a flash of warmth through your body. It’s become regular at this point, this shift in your friendship. The first time you guys crossed over that invisible line had been under the influence of alcohol, you had come home drunk from the bar after celebrating good test results with some friends and Mingi had been celebrating getting a new job with your mutual friends back at home. It just sort of happened, you dialing his number and gushing about how much you missed him. The conversation went on for half an hour when you started trying to undress from your bar clothes and Mingi had asked what you were doing. He’d asked about what you were wearing, and what color your underwear was, then he informed you that he was just in his boxers, and for some reason you found yourself telling him about how sexually frustrated you had been lately in hopes that he’d offer help. And he did.

That first night it was quick and needy, neither of you initiated it, it just happened in perfect symbiosis. You checked the call log the day after and saw that you guys had been on the phone for hours, the last of which you had both eventually fallen asleep on call until your phone battery died. Tentatively, you had called him during the afternoon and asked him if he had any recollection of yesterday night's events. His voice had been raspy and breathy, throat raw from drinking and moaning, and you can still remember every inflection in the tone of his voice when he asked if you had liked it. That had been the start of it all, of an almost full year of phone sex, sexting, and swapping pictures.

”I’m glad to hear that,” you say, trying to sound just as casual even though you can feel butterflies swirl through your stomach. ”I really can’t wait, Mingi. Can’t wait to fuck you and can’t wait to see you, I’ve missed you so much.”

”I’ve missed you too… Get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow at the airport, just look for a handsome tall guy!”

You fall asleep with Mingis laugh ringing in your ears.

The next day, your plane lands at a far emptier airport than the one you’d set off from. It’s early in the day and the sun is high in the sky, occasionally passing behind weak and thin clouds. The air is so different out here than in the big city. The sounds are clearer, the people are kinder, and everything feels so much more simple here.

You sit on a hard airport bench and wait as your phone connects to the internet after having been turned off, seeing all your missed messages coming in. You’re just about to type up a response to Mingis ’You there?’ when a call from him pops up on the screen.

”Yeah, I’m here!” you chirp into the phone.

”’Here’ where? I’m just walking around and-”

”Mingi, you idiot, turn around!” you call out loud enough for him to hear it on the phone and in person, though he’s quite a distance away from you. You could recognize the back of his head anywhere, even though it’s short and bleached blond right now, it’s undeniably Mingi.

He spins around and spots you right away, making eye contact with you across the big, open space. Seeing Mingi in person for the first time in months washes away all nervosity, all the same as it stirs up a new sense of anticipation. You jump to your feet and you're both rushing towards each other, crashing together in a tight hug.

You find yourself closing your eyes, tucking your head into his chest, and inhaling his scent until it makes you lightheaded. He smells just like your Mingi, that same cologne he’s worn since he was 15, the same laundry detergent, and he smells faintly of sunscreen. It’s not the first time you’ve hugged him, not by a long shot, but it feels like the first time you’ve held him like this. Your arms around his middle, taking note of how big he feels in your hold, and you’re thinking about every little detail you’ve missed out on by being away from him. His warmth, his touch, his size, his voice.

”Hi there,” he murmurs, and his voice is so different up close. It’s deeper and darker, it reverberates through his chest. ”Was the flight okay?”

Something about the conversation he’s initiating makes you feel like now is the appropriate time to pull away, and that in turn has you questioning how appropriate that hug had been on your part. Mingi, however, feels cool as ice when he grabs hold of your bag and slings his arm around your shoulder to guide you out of the airport.

”Uh,” you begin, feeling a bit stumped. You continue, ”It was as good as you can expect, but the food sucked, I can’t wait to get home and eat my mom's cooking.”

”Tired of ramen and takeout?” he asks, chuckling.

”You could say that.”

You try to move on past your own weirdness. Mingi is normal and there’s no reason why you shouldn’t be as well. Still, there’s a sort of buzz igniting under your skin from being in Mingi's presence again. You suppose it’s always like that, this initial excitement of seeing each other again and getting to update each other on all the things you’ve been up to while knowing you’ve got all the time in the world to hang out. But there’s this nagging voice at the back of your head that is frantically going through all the conversations you’ve had with Mingi on the phone. Late at night, underneath your covers, with Mingi moaning and speaking filth on the speaker. It doesn’t match up with the Mingi in front of you, the Mingi that has been your closest friend for years, and it makes you feel electric.

Mingi pops his trunk open and you load your bags into his car, then get inside and start the half-hour drive back to your hometown.

You only dare to steal little glances over at him. Watching him in the rearview mirror, seeing the sun set his brown eyes ablaze and paint his skin golden. His fingers strum along to the song on the radio on the steering wheel, he’s wearing a single ring on his right hand and his skin is already tanned even though summer has just begun. It’s almost like you’re meeting him all over again with the way you’re soaking in every inch of him, yet it’s forcefully clear to you that none of this is new. Perhaps that would have made it easier if he had just been a stranger where the slate was clean, but this is Mingi and there are things you’re both gonna need to navigate.

You’d foolishly expected that he’d lean in and steal at least a kiss but perhaps more right away, when you were still parked at the airport. More accurately, you had hoped so. It’s all you guys had been talking about for the past months, all the ways you’d want to ravage each other when you finally were face to face again. Apparently, Mingi thinks that can wait.

So you turn your head away, try not to look over at him or imagine his hand holding your thigh instead of the steering wheel. Instead, you focus your attention on the trees outside, and Talking Heads on the radio.

”Do you still like this song?” Mingi asks you. He takes a turn, and this is where the road gets lonesome and there’s more nature than buildings. The song playing is ’This Must be the Place’, and you know Mingi is asking because you’d been the one that bought him this CD for his birthday.

”I could never outgrow Talking Heads, you know that,” you smile at him. You’re starting to settle in now. The fields and the trees are so familiar, the air smells like your childhood, and Mingi is humming along to music you’ve listened to for years. You can do this, it’s not going to be weird, it’s still your best friend Mingi.

The ride back home starts to fill up with idle chatter. You’d think that you’d have run out of topics to talk about by now, seeing as you’d talk on the phone almost every day, but you still find new things to bring up. He parks his car in the driveway outside your house and helps you carry your luggage, all while giggling and joking with you.

It’s only been a year since you’ve been home, you hadn’t been able to come during Christmas, but that’s the longest stretch of time you’ve spent away from this very house. Not much has changed, your parents have kept your room exactly like you had left it, but something just feels different. It feels smaller, or you feel bigger. You catch a glimpse of Mingi in your doorway as you start unpacking your bags and for a second your abdomen flutters when you notice just how much of the door opening he can shield with his body. He has filled out a lot, and this shouldn’t be a surprise because you’d noticed it plenty of times before when you came home to visit. You suppose it’s not a surprise, but it’s the first time you’ve felt appreciation for it.

Of course, you had fantasized about his body since you entered his whole thing, and he had sent a lot of pictures that had helped you out with that, but seeing it in person is an entirely new ordeal. You feel your face heat up as your mind flicks through memories of pictures he’s sent you of himself naked, knowing what he looks like underneath his clothes. You have to wonder if Mingis mind is running in the same circles, if he’s as hyperaware of your skin as you are of his, and how he’s able to contain himself as well as he does if that’s the case. You hardly can’t.

”So,” Mingi begins. Your stomach lurches and plunges every time he pauses between words, fearing what may come next. Maybe this is when he breaks your heart and tells you he can’t do what you’ve been speaking about, that it’s just not the same when you’re face to face. You try to seem unbothered by your racing thoughts and decide to hear him out first. He continues, ”Uh, what now? Do you need any more help?”

”No, I’m all good, Mingi,” You’re rifling through clothes and belongings, lining them up on your bed. You can physically feel him behind you in your room as if he’s radiating this electricity and warmth that has your skin tingling.

”Maybe I should get going then. You know, to let you settle in.” You can hear him shift his weight between his feet. It suddenly feels unbearably awkward and strained between you two, and you know that if you keep your back to him it will only get worse. You need to face this head-on, cut through the tension, or at least pretend like the heavy atmosphere isn’t weighing you down.

You don’t want to let Mingi leave like this, without either one of you addressing things. If he leaves like this, with things unspoken and forgotten, the next time you see him it will be like nothing has ever happened. He’ll be right next to you but somehow further away than ever.

You guess you shouldn’t have expected to jump each other's bones the second you saw each other. Maybe that was unrealistic, but it had just felt that way on the phone. You suppose this is more natural, maybe you just have to stick it out until you’re used to being in the same room.

This Mingi in front of you is an entire world different than the one you’d grown up with. Despite the fact that everything is the same, that he’s in your childhood room and the sun is shining through the window just the same. The beam of light illuminates him directly, making his tan skin radiate.

You’re admiring him when he steps forward and closes the distance between you. Only the birds are singing outside your window, but in the total silence of your room, you can hear Mingi suck in a shaky breath before he leans forward and kisses you.

Time stills, the earth feels like it’s tilting or tipping, as if the very makeup of the universe is now irreversibly changed. Mingis mouth is warm and gentle but he’s keeping a pressure that has your mind whirling, just the way he’s kissing you with so much intent. You’re both breathing heavily and the air escaping his nose is so sweet that you can’t stop yourself from inhaling as much as possible, dizzying yourself to consume every bit of him that you can.

He’s already close, but he shuffles even nearer without breaking apart from the kiss. You can now feel his body against yours and Mingi moves his hands up to hold each side of your head, keeping you in place as he kisses and licks into your mouth. For some reason you’re so very present inside your head, thinking about each little detail of the way he kisses, reminding yourself to remember this moment forever.

You can feel when he starts to pull away so you chase after him, deepening the kiss for another second before he parts from it entirely. He’s just as breathless as you are, and there’s something in Mingi's eyes that you’ve never seen before. He focuses on your lips and leans in for another kiss that ends a moment too quickly.

Mingis hand ruffles your hair up, and his voice is laced with a laugh when he says a drawn-out ’bye’ and leaves your room.

You can feel your heartbeat in your throat, can hear the blood pumping and wooshing from it all the way through your body, throughout each delicate vein in your ears. Your lips are tingling when you reach up to touch them, almost in disbelief at the fact that Mingi had just been kissing you right there. Your mouth is slick with his spit, and your finger moves cardinally to gather it up and plunge into your mouth so you can savor it.

You fall down on the bed, staring up at your ceiling, and close your eyes to relive the kiss as you imagine what it will be like the next time you see Mingi.

Almost a full week passes until you see him again. Your family practically swarms you for the first few days, your parents being overjoyed to have you back invite your grandparents to welcome you home and your favorite aunt comes to see you with your two young cousins. You get unpacked quickly enough, when you manage to find time between family visits and long drawn-out meals, and before you know it five days have passed. Mingi stays busy too though, he sends a few occasional texts about work and though he lives right across from you, you never even catch a glimpse of him.

Sometimes you lay in your bed at night and feel your heart race up at the thought that there is only a few yards of grass and asphalt road between the two of you. It’s a massive change from the last three years when you had been miles and miles apart. Now, it feels almost like you can sense him. Just across the street, breathing and shuffling in bed. You can picture him so well, long eyelashes resting against his cheekbone, his skin flushed from sleep, his long limbs tangled up in a thin blanket. Your hand slips inside your underwear with a hot fire fueled by embarrassment and insecurity burning in your stomach.

Your imagination moves between recollections of words he’s spoken and pictures he’s sent, to the image of him in his bed right now. He’s so very close, but so very unaware of how much that precise fact affects you. Each day away from him only tightens the strings in your body and you grow more frustrated that you haven’t actualized any of the promises you’d made on the phone. At the same time, you find yourself quietly thankful for the imposed distance. Mingi isn’t even here, but he still has such an impact on you that it has you rushedly getting yourself off with your face buried in your pillow to keep quiet.

You’re so deeply affected by all this, while Mingi is fine. You’re the one busy, but when Mingi comes home from work and has some downtime he doesn’t even text to see if you can spend time. Seemingly, he doesn’t care to find out when you can see each other again.

On day six you’re sitting in your garden with your mom and aunt. Your cousins are playing in the grass in front of you and calling for your attention. The sun is high and hot in the sky, and Mingis car has been home for a few hours. You’ve checked your phone multiple times to make sure it’s not on silent, or if you’ve somehow missed a text from him, but it’s been quiet all day.

Then, a car pulls up to Mingi's house. You recognize it in an instant, it’s Yunhos old Camaro that he had inherited from his dad when he got his license, the same car he’d posted a thousand pictures of on social media. He had even let you drive it for an entire block two summers ago. The paint job has sparkles of blue in it that glimmer in the sun, and you somehow feel like it’s taunting you. The front door of Mingis house opens and he emerges in a pair of short shorts and a t-shirt that he has cut the sleeves off of, and he’s got a pair of sunglasses sitting on his face. A feeling worse than rejection rushes through you when Yunho rolls down the window and waves to you, finally prompting Mingi to also notice you sitting there.

Mingi raises his hand to wave but the movement is cut shorter than Yunho's enthusiastic full-bodied gesture. Mingi gets in the car and the engine roars as Yunho drives away. The warm air feels bittersweet when it’s filled by the smell of exhaust fumes.

That night you’re lying in bed and you’re inching close to sleep when your room lights up for a second. In the haze of sleep, you assume it to be the headlights of a car, but it happens again until the stream of light persists entirely and you finally get up to look outside your window. It’s clear instantly where it’s coming from because Mingi is hanging halfway out his window with a flashlight in his hand.

Though he’s quite a distance away, you can see him well enough to tell that he’s shirtless and his hair is messy, but your focus is pulled from that to trying to decode what gesture he’s making with his hand. You shrug, and he disappears from his window for a few seconds before he pops back with his phone and starts pointing to it.

You search for your phone and open it to find 4 missed calls from Mingi. His contact picture pops up on your phone and you hurry to answer.

”What the fuck, Mingi?” you whisper into your phone.

”Were you sleeping?” he chuckles, and you can see his shoulders shake with laughter. Every little bit of this makes you want to hang up, or scream, or march right over to his house and have a go at him. How dare he go days without speaking to you, then call you up in the middle of the night and laugh as if you haven’t been in agony this past week? How dare he kiss you breathless in this very room and make no attempts at reliving it?

”No, I was just about to fall asleep!” you huff.

”Why are you whispering?” Mingi asks.

”Because my parents are asleep, dumbass.”

”Hm,” he ponders. ”So that would be a no if I asked you to sneak out and come over?”

You hope he doesn’t hear your breath hitch at the thought that he wants you to come over in the middle of the night.

”Of course, it’s a no! My mom is already peeved because of Yunho coming by earlier today. She hates how loud that car is. She’s gonna think you’re a bad influence, riding around in that and making me sneak out.”

”Imagine her reaction when she finds out you drove that car before you got your license, and I wasn’t even there. It was all Yunho,” Mingi jokes.

”Shut up! God, my mom has been warning me about him for years. She used to be convinced I was going to end up with him and it was her biggest nightmare,” you say. Your window is cracked to let in some air now that it’s cooler outside. The night is quiet, and all you can hear is Mingi breathing at the other end of the call. It’s quiet for a moment, and you can see that Mingis face is scrunched up.

”You and Yunho?” he scoffs. ”Why would she think that?”

”I don’t know, it’s not like she had any reason to. She’s just weird like that, you know how my mom is.”

It’s silent yet again, Mingi just sighing.

Your stomach does a somersault when a thought strikes you and you have to ask, ”You’re not jealous, are you?”

”Jealous? Of- of Yunho?” Mingi laughs breathlessly. You just hum, and you can’t take your eyes off of him where he’s sitting in his window. Mingi sucks in a deep breath and regains his voice, ”I have no reason to be jealous of him when I’m the one with your nudes in my phone.”

Something about that makes you curl up on yourself, suddenly feeling very shy that you’re only in your underwear and a thin old tank top. It brings up another thought that has plagued you. The pictures you’d sent were all meticulously posed and manipulated to be as appealing as possible. It had been your body, yes, but the most perfect version of it possible. Here, in your pajamas with your skin glistening from sweat, hunched over yourself, you hardly think Mingi can find any resemblance between the picture-perfect version and the one in front of his eyes.

”Oh yeah?” you murmur. You can’t let him see you falter, can’t let him call your bluff. You straighten your back and pretend to be more interested in something under your nails. ”You could have a lot more than just pictures, you know.”

Mingi lets out a noise that’s somewhere between a moan and a breath, just audible enough for his phone to pick it up.

”Fuck, look at me,” he says, and you do. You just do.

Mingi stands up, keeping his phone pressed to his ear with one hand while his free hand moves in a long, slow caressing motion down his upper body. It’s your turn to feel jealous now, stupidly jealous of Mingis own hands for getting to touch him. His fingers reach the waistband of his boxers and you nervously stop breathing as you imagine them dipping inside. His hand moves just a bit further down though, where Mingi wraps his entire palm around his dick.

”Can you see that?” he asks. He uses his hand to move his hard cock under the light material of his underwear, making sure to jut his hips out towards the moonlight so you can see every second of his show.

”I can see you, oh my god. Are you out of your mind? Mingi, what if-”

”No one’s around, no one’s gonna see except for you,” he assures you. You lick your lips, thinking back to what Mingis mouth had tasted like.

”You’re crazy,” you whisper to him.

”You make me crazy,” he says with a smirk. ”Would you lift your shirt up for me?”

Your fingers have dug into your thigh without you noticing until now that Mingi is directing attention to your body. There’s so much tension inside your body that your breathing feels labored as if there are coils fastened inside you and everything Mingi says and does tighten up every bit of your internal structure. He has you feeling lightheaded with words alone.

Sensing your hesitance, Mingi speaks again. ”You don’t have to, I just really want to see you.”

The last sentence has you moving without thinking, getting up on your knees on the seat under your window. You take a quick glance around the street and in the windows of nearby neighbors. The whole world is asleep, only you and Mingi are awake.

You use your free hand to pull your tank top as high as possible, exposing your stomach and chest to Mingi who has stopped touching himself and is keeping razor-sharp focus on you.

”You-… Thank you, you’re gorgeous, do I ever tell you that?” Mingi’s voice is low and hushed. Until now he has sounded loud and confident, and if you didn’t know any better you would think that Mingi has gotten shy. He probably didn’t expect you to follow through with his request.

You haven’t spoken in minutes and you’re not sure if you could make any noise without it coming out as a whine, but luckily Mingi speaks up once more.

”Can you get into bed? I’m gonna lay down, please join me, please, would you touch yourself with me?” Mingi pleas. He waits a second for the words to register, for you to spring into action before he does so himself. Part of you wants to stay and keep drinking in the sight of his body, but the expectations of what he’s going to have you doing has you obeying his words.

”I’m in bed now,” your voice is still hushed, and there’s a layer of excitement in it that brings on a wave of embarrassment.

”I am too, I’m gonna- I’m taking my underwear off. It’s been so long, I just need to…” Mingi trails off. His end of the call is muffled, and a little distorted, and you can hear him shuffling to get his boxers off.

”It’s been so long since what?” you ask to clarify.

”Since we last did this, since I last came…” he answers. Fuck.

”Have you not been cumming since we last had phone sex?”

Mingi quiets down for a second before he lets out a breathy laugh.

”Have you?” he asks with a tone in his voice you can’t make out, but it has your cheeks heating up and your entire body running ice cold.

You turn silent now, but it’s clear from how Mingi is laughing under his breath that he doesn’t need an answer from you to know the truth.

”Oh my god. Well, tell me then, how many times have you made yourself cum since our last call?” Mingi asks. He sounds so cocky, so full of himself that you don’t know whether to roll your eyes or shove your hand between your legs and revel in this stupidly hot version of Mingi.

”Maybe two or three times,” you mumble, hoping that he doesn’t catch it.

”Let's just pretend I believe that. What have you been thinking about?”

You whine, feeling your entire body surge with shame and humiliation. Despite all of it, you’ve bunched up your blanket between your legs and without thinking about it you’ve started rutting against it slowly.

”Mingi, please…”

”Tell me.”

”I think about you. I always do. I’ve been thinking about that kiss, and-…” Your thought is interrupted by a sound on the other end of the line, along with Mingis soft hums. ”Mingi, are you jacking off to me telling you I fantasize about you?”

”I’m jacking off to your voice,” he says so matter of fact it knocks the air out of you. He continues, ”The fact that it’s about me only makes it better.”

”Oh my god,” you sigh, closing your eyes and letting your hand move where you need it most. Mingis voice is sweet and gentle as he moans with each stroke, and his phone is so close to his mouth you’re tricked into believing he’s right next to you, breathing and huffing.

”I wish you were here right now,” he says, sort of under his breath, a little quiet. It feels a little secretive when he says it, like when you were younger and he would have you turn your back to him as he did the same. With your backs pressed together, he would tell you all his deepest secrets, and when you’d turn around again you would both pretend like nothing had happened. It’s a memory you have replayed a lot more recently than ever before, just due to how similar it feels to this arrangement you have with Mingi. As long as you aren’t faced with each other, as long as your backs are turned you can do and say whatever you want.

Instead of sulking about it, you force yourself to play along.

”I do too, I need you so bad,” you whisper, and none of it is a lie.

”Need to see you cum for me, fuck, I need you to make me cum,” he moans. It echoes through your entire head, that moan and those words, and it has you rolling onto your back and pulling your underwear down your legs so you can touch yourself properly.

”You’ll make me cum just by saying that, Mingi,” you say, pathetically so. Something about Mingi has you reaching the edge faster than anything else.

”Fuck, me too. Just hearing you say my name is enough to make me cum right now. I’ve never felt this fucking good,” Mingi groans.

”Mingi,” you let out again, out of pure instinct. ”Mingi, please give me permission to cum, I need it, please!”

He does, in a string of words and breathless moans he allows you to cum with him. Your orgasm rolls through your entire body in a blinding flash, and by the time it’s over you can’t gauge if multiple minutes or just a few seconds have passed. Your phone is pressed so tight to your ear that pearls of sweat coat the screen.

”You there?” Mingis voice is raspy, all fucked out.

You come to, clearing your throat, ”I’m here, sorry. Holy shit.”

”What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks. You don’t have time to feel overjoyed or even finish your train of thought (of oh, fuck, it’s finally happening) before Mingi continues, ”Yunho’s throwing this… thing, at his house. There’s gonna be a barbeque, we’re gonna get drinks, and he says it’s going to be chill but you know how he is. It’s gonna end up being a party by the end of the night.”

You’re staring up at the glow-in-the-dark star stickers Mingi helped you set up when you were 15, and the answer is so obvious you don’t have to think about it.

”Yeah, I’ll go with you,” you respond.

”Well… I’ll take you, but maybe we shouldn’t make it too obvious when we’re there. All of our friends will be there, maybe it’s best to lay low?”

You clench your eyes shut. It makes you want to scream so loud it’d pierce your wall and travel across the street and through to his bedroom. A week ago he had been so concerned about things turning weird between you two and you’d written it off as a worry about your friendship, about how things would change after all the words and naked pictures you had exchanged. You hadn’t considered for a second that Mingi would be concerned for his reputation.

”Yeah,” you mutter. ”No, yeah, you’re right.”

”Okay then,” he says, so cheerily that you feel shame wash over you. ”I’ll pick you up tomorrow at five then?”

You hum in response and swap goodbyes before he ends the call and the beeps ring through your ear.

Your sleep that night is weighed down by a worry you can't dispel even after you wake up. You hardly feel rested, and your parent's voices barely register when they speak to you at breakfast. A lot of thoughts linger in your head, unshakeable doubts about whether things with Mingi are really going to be as okay as you had thought when you were in school.

Things had felt so much simpler then, like this steadfast belief that it would be just as it had always been. You had returned every single summer and were able to pick back up your friendship with Mingi with no trouble, despite all the months you had spent apart.

At least you would get to see all your friends again. Summer being in full swing would mean that everyone would be at their happiest, most free, possibly stupid, and risky behavior.

The day passes by sluggishly, you're merely counting down the hours. You try to read a book while lying in the sun in your backyard, but find that the words just flow together. You check your phone and see the half-hour call in your log from yesterday night, you’re just staring at Mingi's name and contact picture. It's just letters and numbers on a screen, but it's also a journal of your entire relationship. You can go back and see every single one, remember where things had started and where things had escalated. It took you weeks to send the first suggestive pictures to each other and they had been modest back then. A picture of your dark silhouette in the mirror, and Mingi replying with a blurry picture of his thighs in the dark of his room.

It's just another reminder that what you've got with Mingi is all contained in this piece of technology you can fit in your hand. Nothing is real or tangible, except for a few minutes of kissing. That's all you've got that counts as something; Mingi kissing you in your childhood bedroom for a few very good minutes before departing and ignoring you for days.

The kiss lives vividly in your head as you shower and get dressed.

You're sitting on your windowsill and watching the clock tick closer to five when the front door of Mingis house opens and he walks outside. He's got a pair of sunglasses on that he lifts off of his nose to peek up at your window, and when he spots you he waves and motions for you to come down.

You float down the stairs and out your door. The air is light and breezy outside despite the way the sun has been beaming down all day. Mingi is dressed in yet another shirt that shows off his arms, the slight tan line from his work t-shirt that he tries to even out is obvious to you up close and you squeeze his arm to tease him for it.

Both of you sit down in his car. The windows are rolled down to let air flow through and Mingi sets the car stereo to a low volume so you can faintly hear Tears for Fears play in the background. The engine hums pleasantly in comparison to Yunhos Camaro when Mingi starts the car. You watch his hands, waiting for him to shift the stick into first gear, but it doesn't happen.

Instead, time moves in both directions, very slowly but all too quickly as he wraps his hand around the back of your head and pulls you in for a kiss. Every single thought that has plagued you throughout the day vanishes the second his lips are on yours. It's replaced by the fact that these same lips had moaned your name less than 24 hours ago, that he had sounded so desperate when he told you he wished you were there.

Mingi deepens the kiss this time, letting it go on for longer than last time. When you have to part from it to take a breath Mingi trails his kisses from the corner of your mouth to under your ear. The kisses are chaste, barely there, but every single one leaves your skin tingling.

He doesn't return to your lips, he pulls back and regains his breath and his smile is so cocky when he reverses the car out of the driveway. You can't help but giggle then, and Mingi turns up the volume to let the music blare through the entire car. This is the Mingi you've missed, the one that drives through your neighborhood and ignores all the grouchy people who turn around and stare disgruntedly. He sings along too loudly, straining his voice to hit notes that sound awful even though you know that he's a great singer.

Everything feels as it always has when you pull up to Yunhos house and there are cars parked up and down the street. Mingi parks and as you're unbuckling your belt you see him look in the rearview mirror, grooming his hair and then wiping his mouth to remove your lip balm. It stings for a second but you don't let it persist. You just get out of his car and the two of you walk towards Yunhos backyard.

There is a voice in the back of your head that reminds you of the distance Mingi puts between you, this very conscious measurement that would leave no doubt for all your friends that you're strictly platonic. You push that away too, and make way towards all your old school friends instead. Seonghwa is the first to pull you into a hug, and it's all you need for the bubble to burst on all your worries.

Soon enough you're all laughing, the backyard is quickly filling with people and Yunho is having a hard time keeping up with all the people demanding a burger. The afternoon air smells just like high school, and the cheap alcohol mixed in the punch is just like the one you used to drink back then. The only difference is that everyone looks so much older, and the conversations have switched from homework, crushes, and drama to future plans and jobs.

"So what now?" Seonghwa asks you when a few hours have passed and the sun is setting. It's not getting dark, the sun is just changing from blue to lilac. You turn to him, feeling the way the alcohol has affected your vision, the way it's swimming a bit.

"What now?" you ask.

"I mean, are you back for good? Are you gonna settle down, get a job, do the whole small-town thing?" he jokes, but the question he poses is a valid one.

"Hm," you ponder for a second, looking up at the sky as if an answer is gonna rain down on you. "I guess I don't know. I need to get a job, but I'll give myself the summer to figure it out. It feels like the last one before things truly.. you know.."

"Change," Seonghwa interjects. "Before we truly grow up."

The conversation quiets for a moment before you both burst into laughter.

"Jesus, we always get so somber, don't we?" Seonghwa laughs.

"Remember prom? We went out for some air and you couldn't stop talking about the universe because you looked up at the stars for a second," you say.

"I don't remember that, I just remember Hongjoong going off on me because I teared up and ruined the makeup he spent an hour doing on me," Seonghwa recollects. You could remember that. You also remembered the eyeshadow Hongjoong had smeared across Mingis's eyelid, the messy dark brown he had lined his eyes with because Mingi refused to stay still for too long.

None of you had brought any dates that night, your entire friend group had decided to just go together and spend the night dancing with each other. When you had gotten a dance with Mingi towards the end of the night his makeup had started running and you had brushed your thumb under his eye. Nothing about that action or the dance, or the night as a whole, had been close to romantic. He had just been Mingi, the same Mingi as always, he walked you home that night with his arm around your shoulder just like he had every day after school.

It's only with the wisdom of hindsight you can identify little actions to speak otherwise. You can't recall what Sans eyes had looked like when you danced with him, but you remember in great detail how the lights had twinkled in Mingi's irises. All you remember from your dance with Wooyoung is that his hands had been too sweaty to hold, but you can go back in your memory to when Mingi had leaned his head on your shoulder and sang along softly to the song that was playing.

"What is it like when you talk to Mingi?" Seonghwa pulls you out of your thoughts. You don't know when your eyes close, but when you open them again the sky is starting to burn a vibrant pink.

"Well... I don't know. It's good. We talk about all sorts of things," you try to sound matter of fact, very casual. Reminding yourself of Mingis words, lay low.

"Yeah, you must," Seonghwa remarks, a chuckle sounding through his voice. It has you turning to him, eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

"Meaning?" you question.

"Just that there must be substance to your conversations, seeing as Mingi excuses himself from every night out when you call," he says.

"Yeah," you attempt to brush it off as a meaningless piece of information, but it feels like a lot more. You didn't know Mingi would rush home to talk to you.

Seonghwa hums, and your eyes are pulled to the ground where you've been digging your heel into the grass.

"I guess you guys have always been closer than the rest of us. Living across from each other, being childhood friends, all that," he says. There's no hidden meaning or intention behind his words, you know Seonghwa well enough to deduct that, but it still feels like he's trying to catch you out.

"Yeah," you repeat, absent-mindedly. "Suppose so."

Seonghwas mouth twitches a little as if he wants to say something else, but he keeps it shut. You're thankful, because even if he can read between the lines of your and Mingi's strange relationship, the fact that he doesn't say it out loud serves as reassurance to you. It's the same thin veil that you and Mingi drape yourselves in. Unspoken meaning unchanged.

A friend comes over and offers to top off your and Seonghwas glasses, and you decide to get up on your feet and move on from the sudden gloom that took over.

The music is loud and the air gets chillier as the clouds twist amongst pink and orange. You’re talking to Yunho and telling him the story about your mom's disapproval of his car when he notices your shoulders quiver with the drop in temperature. He fetches one of his flannels for you, helping you thread your arms through and telling you that you need another drink to warm up. Yunho makes you something stronger than the diluted punch, and it goes to your head with haste.

It does warm you up, and it pulls you from reality a little. It’s easier to laugh along with Yunhos jokes this way, without thinking about the tension between you and Mingi. It feels good and safe to just be worriless, to feel the wind in your hair and be surrounded by the sound of your friend's voices mixing together.

Your legs are getting wobblier, but Yunho catches you before you fall and he lets you stay posted against him.

You’re just watching the conversation your friends are having without joining in when you feel two hands on your waist. You don’t have to look back to know that it’s Mingi. The smell of his cologne is familiar enough to alert you.

”I think I better get them home,” Mingis voice is warm and round behind your ear. For a second you feel a little bitter, you kind of want to shake his hands off of you and scoff at him because he’s intervening just when you’re truly starting to enjoy yourself without spending a single thought on him. Is that not what he wanted? You’re keeping the secret, you’re not drawing any eyes towards you two. He’s doing that all on his own.

Had it been three years ago, you think your friends had been protesting your leave. You’re all grown up now though, and everyone is understanding when Mingi wraps his arm around your waist, and you both wave goodbye.

Mingi helps you into his car. Tears for Fears is still playing when he turns the car on and starts driving, and you feel a sort of agitation that you can’t place. He doesn’t speak a single word for a minute or two, and the mood inside the car is unbearable.

”I don’t think anyone could tell,” you say. Mingis face is bare of emotion, and you find yourself with an urge to placate him. ”We did well, don’t you think? I didn’t make anything obvious.”

You don’t know what response you expect to get from Mingi, but there’s a palpable shock within you when he pulls the car over to the side of the road and turns to you.

”What?” you ask. Mingis eyes soften when they flick over your entire body, to then end up at your face.

”Did you really.. worry about that?” Mingi wonders softly.

”Huh? I thought-… Yes, I worried about it, because you did. I mean, you told me we needed to lay low.” You’re starting to get thoroughly confused and frustrated.

”I know, but I didn’t think you’d drink so much and cuddle up to Yunho because of it,” Mingi says, his tone quickly working up to a sharpness you’ve never heard in him before.

”Drink so much?” you gasp. ”I was just having fun! It had nothing to do with you! Not everything is about you, Mingi, or about us. I don’t worry about it as much as you do. Believe it or not.”

”I don’t worry about it,” Mingi sounds accused.

”Clearly you do though. You take me to this party and give me instructions on how to behave, then spend the whole time ignoring me. Just like you did all of last week. Clearly, you have to feel ashamed, or- or…” you trail off, feeling your voice crack. Mingi sucks in a deep breath and leans closer, putting his hand on your knee.

”Please,” he urges, and there’s something in his voice that breaks your heart. ”Please, don’t think I could ever be ashamed of you.”

”Then what, Mingi?” you ask quietly, starting to feel yourself break now. Tears are starting to well up and cloud your vision. You continue, ”Do you just not want me? I get if it’s different when we’re face to face, I know it might not be what you expected, I understand if you don’t find me-”

”Stop it!” Mingi is almost shouting now, startling you. ”It’s nothing like that, you have to believe me. Stop saying these things.”

His hand lifts from your knee to hold your face where he wipes away a tear from your cheek. You don’t know what to say, even though there’s a part of you that wants to keep insisting. Mingi isn’t offering any kind of explanation or even an excuse, he’s not saying anything to quell your worries, and his hands on you are not enough.

”Kiss me. Please,” you whisper. There’s more you want to say, like prove it, prove that you want me. Kiss me and mean it.

”I’m not going to kiss you when you’re drunk and I’m sober,” Mingi says, offering up a solemn smile.

”I’m not though,” you argue. This entire conversation has been sobering. You’re still tipsy, your head feels a little heavy and your vision is still floating but you think you can blame it on your tears as much as you can blame it on alcohol.

”Well, you’re drunk enough that I don’t feel comfortable kissing you.” Mingis thumb strokes over your cheek to comfort you. It’s enough to calm you a little, because that you can take. You don’t think you’d want to kiss him either if the roles had been reversed.

”Okay,” you mutter. ”Are you sure it’s not because you don’t want me?”

Mingi sighs, ”We’ll talk about it tomorrow when you’re not-”

”I’m not drunk, Mingi.”

”Okay, okay. But I still want to do this tomorrow, when we’re both thinking clearly. We’re just misunderstanding each other, and this isn’t how I wanted it to go,” he tells you. He leans forward and kisses the top of your head instead, just above your hairline. It must be calculated on his part, to kiss you where your skin can’t feel the warmth of his lips.

”Okay,” you say again. This time Mingi lets out a little laugh at your dissatisfaction.

He starts the car back up and takes off to go home, leaving his hand on your thigh throughout the drive. When he pulls up to his house and you get out of the car your legs feel like jelly, and you realize you’re probably not as sober as you’d like to believe.

”Mingi?” you ask. He rushes to your side to hold you up, though that’s not what you meant. ”Can I sleep here tonight? You know how my mom is, she’d flip if she saw me-”

”I wasn’t planning on letting you go home like this, don’t worry,” he laughs.

So, with his arm around your waist, Mingi guides you inside and up the stairs to his room. It’s dark and you have to remind yourself to be quiet to not wake Mingi's family. While he leaves the room to fetch another blanket you sit down on his bed and look around his room.

It’s been a while since you’ve been here but not much has changed. You know for a fact that Mingi is still just as entertained by his action figures now as he had been at 13. It makes you laugh to see them all lined up on his shelf, right next to a couple of books that you had gifted him. He had forced his way through a couple of them and called you to complain about every choice the main character made.

You’re comforted by how much of his room remains the same. This is a place where you can remember and picture Mingi. By his big stereo, switching CD’s. Cutting out pictures of his friends to add to his collage wall.

Mingi comes back to his room with a blanket and a pillow that he throws next to you on the bed.

You’re watching his every move. When his eyes land on you he lets out a sound you can only read as disgust.

”Of course he gave you that,” he complains, more to himself than to you.

You can’t help but follow his line of sight though, finding that he’s looking at Yunhos flannel shirt.

”What’s so bad about it?” you wonder. Being under Mingis gaze always fills you with a sort of insecurity that has you twisting and turning.

”It's like, his move. Lending out his shirt. And then letting you lean on him like that..” Mingi mutters.

”Why would Yunho ever pull a move on me?” you ask incredulously.

”For the same reason I would, I assume,” he says. ”You’re really hot.”

A heat rushes to your abdomen and you can’t meet Mingis eyes anymore. Today has left you feeling anything but desired by him, but you don’t think he’s lying right now. He wouldn’t lie about finding you hot just minutes after refusing to kiss you.

”It wouldn’t matter what Yunho thinks of me. Like you said last night, you’re the one who has my nudes. Right?” you say.

Mingi sits down next to you, looking at his hands in his lap instead of at you.

”What if he wanted more than just your nudes?” he asks. This, too, feels like he’s asking himself the question. And you don’t know what to answer.

You don’t think Yunho poses any threat whatsoever, he’s just friendly and flirty by nature. But you let yourself think about what Mingi is implying for a second. What if he - or anyone else - would want more of you than Mingi does? Someone who could offer you a relationship that wouldn’t require secrecy. Someone who would bring you around his friends and hold your hand for everyone to see. Someone who would properly date you and want a relationship, as opposed to dirty phone sex at odd hours of the night.

You realize you’d always pick Mingi above all that, no matter if you had to have him only partially. If he was never yours.

You open your mouth to respond but shut it again when you can’t find the right words.

Mingi looks over at you. He speaks, ”Can’t you take it off?”

”Take it off of me,” you whisper back.

His mouth twitches into a small smile.

”It’d be a lot sexier if I wasn’t taking Yunhos clothes off of you the first time I undress you,” he still sounds displeased, but his hands work the shirt off of you anyways. He discards it to the floor, as far away as it can come.

”These are all mine,” you say, meaning the clothes you have on. ”You can take those off.”

Mingi lets out a drawn-out breath, something to collect himself. His hands pause at the hem of your top even though you’ve already given consent, waiting for you to nod until he starts pulling it over your head.

Silence permeates in Mingis bedroom as he continues undressing you. It’s just the wind rustling his curtains that disrupts the quiet. He guides you to lie down so he can unbutton your shorts to take them off. His hands are so gentle and his touch is soft, when he has finished taking your socks off and all your clothes are on the floor except for your underwear he leans down and presses a sweet kiss right above your knee.

”Take yours off too, please,” you say softly. He’s not quite as delicate with himself, he doesn’t make a show of it. You can’t help but stare though, trying to really commit this to memory since it’s the very first time you’re seeing him strip for you, even if you know it won’t be followed up with all the things you’ve talked about on the phone.

Your eyes flick all over him, down his toned arms and up his torso as he pulls his shirt over his head, across his broad chest. You watch his fingers work the button on his shorts open, revealing his dark underwear. He’s not hard, at least not fully, and it’s strangely intimate to be so close to his dick for the first time but not in a sexual manner. Everything about it makes your heart feel heavy, you’re somehow aware of each pump of it, how it’s speeding up at the mere sight of Mingi.

Mingi, your Mingi, that hasn’t ever been yours. Not really, not properly, but still somehow.

You want him on top of you so bad, to finally feel him in the ways you’ve dreamt about for a full year. Instead, Mingi climbs in bed with you and pulls you close.

He is soft and warm in all the spots your bodies are connected and intertwined. You fall asleep to the sounds of his breath coming out slow and steady.

You wake to a breeze of air over your face. At first, all you can hear is the chirps of birds outside and the distant noise of cars driving around. You don’t need to open your eyes to know that it’s the middle of the day, the sun is bright in that midday way, bright enough that there isn’t a total blackness even when you screw your eyes shut further.

You just turn around and try to escape from it by burying your face into the pillow. The texture of the pillow feels strange and unfamiliar, and the more you come to you realize it also doesn’t smell like your bedding. It smells like Mingi, you realize, and shoot up in a startle.

You don’t have time to wonder why the bed is empty next to you, because you can hear steps on the stairs and seconds later the bedroom door creaks open. Through a squint you can see Mingi in the same state you remember him falling asleep. In just his underwear he walks up to the bed and sets down a glass of water and a plate, before petting his hand over your hair.

”Good morning,” he greets you, smiling big.

”Mm, yeah,” you hum back, still drowsy. It’s far more comfortable to let your eyes close again and just lean into Mingi's affection.

”You okay? Are you hungover?” Mingi asks.

”Yeah, but not from drinking,” you murmur. ”It’s from you yelling at me.”

”I wasn’t yelling!” There’s an undertone to his voice, an actual worry and fear that you’d be feeling a certain way today after last night's conversation.

”I know you weren’t, Mingi. I’m just messing with you, I remember every bit of that conversation,” you assure him. He lets out a sigh of relief, his thumb stroking over your temple.

”That was going to be my next question,” he tells you. ”So you remember the whole night then?”

You nod your head under his hand.

”Do you want to talk about it?” he asks you.

The question stabs at something inside your sternum. Of course, you want to talk, in reality, there are a thousand times you’ve held yourself back from saying to him and there would be nothing more freeing than telling Mingi all of it. There’s just never a time and place for it though and you’ve come to terms that there never will be. It would take astronomical changes to allow you to say what you want. Yes, Mingi, I’m in love with you and probably have been all my life. Mingi, it took us sexting to make me realize you’re the only one I could ever picture myself with.

You had of course let yourself fantasize a couple of times, but the details of any imaginary and hypothetical relationship between you two would quickly obscure, and Mingi was often a perpetrator in that. It would present itself on days when you lived in the afterglow of a nighttime call. You’d walk on clouds with the memories of Mingi moaning your name, then check social media and be greeted with photos of him with his arm around your lifelong friends and strangers you would get nauseous picturing Mingi talking to. Your name wouldn’t even come up in conversation, he’d appear single to them because after all, he was.

So you wouldn’t often entertain the idea of being something more. You’d just treat it as a passing thought, boil it down to what it was, a neuronal connection gone to grief.

You guess you had hoped to see something in Mingi to completely deny these thoughts. Like, a first kiss that you wouldn’t be able to break away from. Or the moment you finally have sex for the first time and it being this out-of-body experience that ends with both of you crying and confessing your love. Like a scene out of a movie.

You could even have survived the opposite. If the first kiss had gone sour and the spark died before it even ignited. At the very least, you would have an answer to all your questions. Instead of being tethered to this middle ground where there’s an undeniable passion and need for each other, but a considerable distance keeping you apart.

Though there were things you’d want to say, there are none you could verbalize.

”I don’t think there’s anything to talk about,” you say, finally. To convince Mingi of this, you open your eyes and roll onto your back so you can look at him. He looks unconvinced, so you continue, ”I think I was just confused and upset. I don’t know why. Maybe because you’ve barely spoken to me since I came back home. I had just… expected more.”

You find yourself surprised that you’re telling the truth. It’s not what you had meant to say, but it’s true and innocent enough. Mingis hand rests on the side of your face, where his fingers fiddle with your hair, and for a second his eyes focus on that, before coming back to yours.

”I don’t have any excuse,” he says. ”I guess I could say that I kept seeing your relatives show up at your house and I thought it’d be rude to whisk you away from all that just to fuck you. But I think the more time passed, the harder it got to..”

”Yeah,” you agree. ”To fuck.”

He smiles at your choice of words and nods.

”Have you not happened to notice I haven’t initiated a single kiss between us, Mingi? I’m nervous too. It’s different in real life. It was much easier on the phone to just do things,” you say.

”Would it make it easier if I told you I’d really like to kiss right now?” Mingi asks.

There won’t ever come a time when the prospect of Mingi wanting to kiss you won’t send a jolt of electricity through each and every vein in your body. Nor will there ever be an instance where you won’t act on that will, especially since it seems that there will be a finite number of them. As you prop yourself up and lean in to kiss Mingi you realize that, along with this being the very first time that you initiate a kiss with him, you’re also one kiss closer to the last kiss you’ll ever have with him.

Because there will be a last time. If you keep going like this there is no other possible outcome, there will simply come a day when Mingis's eyes set on someone else and your arrangement is concluded. There’s not an if, it’s simply a when, and every kiss from now on is going to lead up to that last one. You can’t decide if you should hold out and stave off that last one for as long as you can or fit in as many as possible until then.

All these thoughts disperse when your mouth meets Mingis and he kisses you back. It’s hard to think of anything other than his warm lips or his tongue softly licking against yours. It’s more playful this time compared to the last two, today you’re both feeling each other out and learning what to do, what feels good.

You find yourself out of rhythm at times, the position you’re in is a little awkward, and you fumble through a few kisses to lean closer to Mingi. You feel your stomach swirl when you realize that none of this deters Mingi, that you can in fact feel him smile and breathe out something between a hum and a moan every time you come crashing against his mouth. His big hand comes up to your jaw, long fingers curling around the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

Things get heady so fast with Mingi, he works you up so incredibly quickly, and it’s obvious from the sounds he’s making that he’s just as affected. He doesn’t pull away for a second, his hand keeps your head in place and he continues to clumsily kiss you as he guides you down onto the bed.

The air in Mingi's room is hot from the summer sun shining through his window. It’s not until now you realize that the only thing separating you from Mingis body has been his thin blanket. He starts peeling it away, and it’s then you remember that Mingi had undressed you the night before. A jolt of panic shoots through you now that Mingi can see you, entirely nude except for your underwear, in the warm, bright light of his room. You find comfort in the fact that he’s undressed too, but with Mingis eyes taking you in it’s hard to feel relaxed.

Mingi leans in for a long, passionate kiss, and against your mouth he muffles, ”You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Your head is swimming, Mingi keeps on kissing you, getting softer and more careful as he moves down your neck and continues to lavish you with compliments. So pretty, kiss, gorgeous, kiss, breathtaking, kiss. And if you had any doubts, he squashes every single one when he kisses from your collarbone, over your chest and down your stomach, all the way down to your hips.

He plants his hands on each of your thighs, not grabbing or putting any pressure, but you can still feel the weight of them.

”Is this okay?” he asks quietly. He kisses just above the waistband of your underwear, and at the same time, his hands nudge your legs apart. Your breath catches in your throat and you can only nod and let his hands move your legs to where he wants them.

”What about your family?” you ask him, suddenly realizing the reality of where you are.

”No one’s home. It’s just us,” he says. ”So don’t hold back on me please.”

His shoulders are big and broad between your legs. The sun illuminates him so prettily, his tan skin glows, and every little hair on his body is lit up by the sun. The heat has left a thin layer of sweat on his skin and it highlights his muscles in just the right way. He’s just glowing, near angelic, and you’re moved with the need to worship every part of him.

Mingi is still so tender with all his kisses, there’s no sense of rushing as he takes his time by really letting his lips linger. His mouth trails along your entire thigh, stopping now and then to lightly suck your skin into his mouth and have a taste of you. He only falters when he gets to the junction of your thigh, to where your skin is covered by the fabric of your underwear.

You’ve been short of breath for a while now, but when Mingis fingers dip into the waistline of your underwear you cease to breathe entirely. Your head is rushing, watching as Mingis hands pull your underwear down your legs, leaving you completely naked. You’ve sent him pictures before, he knows what every little inch of your body looks like, but Mingi looks at you as if it’s the very first time.

A thousand thoughts whirl through your head between the seconds your underwear hits the floor to when Mingi springs into action. A thousand worries now culminating, whether he’ll realize that it was better over the phone, if he’s disappointed by what he’s seeing, or if he’s repulsed by how aroused you already are.

”You’re,” Mingi begins, stopping to press a kiss at the seam of your thigh. He adds, ”Beautiful.”

His eyes aren’t even on yours, he’s single-mindedly focused on what’s right in front of him. His breath is fanning across your entire crotch, tickling your inner thighs, and as you feel it get closer and closer you instinctively close your eyes and let your head roll back when Mingi finally puts his mouth where you need it most.

He’s still so gentle, using his tongue and lips to tease you and explore what you like best. It feels like hours pass of Mingi lightly sucking and pressing wet kisses all over you, he’s really and truly taking his time and you have to believe it’s for his own sake because he’s only building up a frustration within you.

”Mingi,” you whine, reaching down to grab hold of his hair. It’s an objectively insane feeling, to have his hair in your hand and head between your legs, after all this time of dreaming of it. It’s enough to have you getting close, even though Mingi is still lapping carefully at you, and it's nowhere close enough to what you crave.

When you start bucking your hips against his mouth it’s like he releases all restrain and just goes for it. His hands wrap around your legs at first, pressing them towards his head, to then wedging underneath your ass so he can get all of you into his mouth.

Mingi moans out ”You taste so good” with a mouthful of you at the same time you tell him how good he is with his mouth, prompting him to smirk against your pelvis. It really doesn’t take long for him to learn what gets you closest to the edge, just where he should put his tongue and where to apply some pressure.

”So good, Mingi, you’re so good. Oh my god,” you sigh. You tug on his hair hard enough for your fingers to cramp, and Mingi only moans against you. Every sound you make seems to spur him on further, Mingi only getting more eager with the way he’s circling his tongue around you.

His tongue is getting you closer and closer, your stomach is splitting in two to hold onto the edge and trying not to cum. You’ve been waiting for this for so long that it feels a shame to cum just minutes after Mingis mouth is on you, but there’s no holding back. His hands grip your hips, pulling you flush to his face, and the second you lift your head to look down at him between your legs you start orgasming in his mouth.

He understands what’s happening before you do, applying enough pressure to get you over the edge before letting up and licking you slower to help you come down. All while he keeps his eyes on yours, letting your fingers scratch his scalp. Mingi listens to every little noise you make and stops the second your heavy breathing turns into an overstimulated hiss.

”Mingi, Mingi,” you whine. His cheeks are flushed a deep pink and his lips are slick with his own spit and your cum, and you can’t stop admiring him. All you can do is pray that Mingi looks into your eyes and mistakes your all-consuming love as the afterglow of a great orgasm.

He pulls himself up enough to crawl on top of you, and though he’s just spent minutes between your legs, this feels a lot more daunting. He hesitates for a moment as if he’s unsure if he’s allowed to kiss you, so you wrap your hands around the back of his head and pull him towards you.

Mingi is breathing heavily from the effort he’s just put forth, and instead of letting him catch his breath you only grow more desperate. Your hands clammer onto his shoulders, pulling him against you, then down to his waist, and finally around his ass so you can pull him against your core. He’s got his underwear on, but you don’t let it stop you as you grind up against him. He’s hard and you’re still wet with spit and cum, it doesn’t take long before you’ve soaked his boxers and the barrier between you both is practically nonexistent. You can feel every bit of him against you.

”Mingi,” you moan into his mouth. ”Fuck me, please.”

He pulls away and sucks in a deep breath.

”Don’t you want me to… uh, prepare you?” He sounds small and insecure. You watch his brows burrow and his eyes flick across your face, and you’re struck by how much he looks like Mingi. Your best friend Mingi, who you’ve built up in your head as a confident sex god, even though you’ve always been aware that he’s more careful and vary than any other person you know.

You suppose you’d just assume that that version of him would disappear in the bedroom, that he’d be the same as he is over the phone when he’s telling you all the different ways he wants to fuck you.

”I’m- I’m embarrassed to say this, but I’m so worked up you could just slide inside me,” you tell him, and Mingi moans in response.

”Are you sure?” he asks. You pick up motion again, sliding yourself against the entire length of his dick.

”I’m not just sure, I’m begging,” you plea. You hook your fingers into his boxers, trying to tug them down even though you know the position you’re in won’t allow you to undress him. You just need him to act, now, you can’t wait any longer.

It happens fast, Mingi pulling his boxers off and getting back on top of you, to then lining up his dick to enter you.

”Fuck, I forgot how big you are,” you mumble. The sight of him in comparison to you, lined up against you, is enough to make you cum untouched.

This is what you’ve been dreaming about for a whole year, this very moment. For Mingi to push inside you, hook your legs over his shoulders and fuck you until you can’t see straight. Actually being here, with the tip of his dick against your hole, it feels much different. It’s not the actual sex you’re looking forward to, it’s the fact that he’s finally going to be inside you. It feels like you’re claiming him, that the moment is finally here and he’s going to be yours.

”Are you okay? Are you ready? Can I-?” Mingi asks, searching your eyes for uncertainty.

”Please,” you nod.

He starts pushing inside, watching his dick slide with ease until he’s got the entire tip in. The stretch feels amazing, you could take all of him in one go but the fact that he stops and leans down to kiss you as he slowly thrusts his entire cock inside is way better. And god, he kisses you as if he’s not currently buried inside you. His lips barely brush against yours, and the kisses are short and sweet. Finally, he pulls back to watch himself bottom out.

The sun is shining on the side of Mingis face, and this is just not at all how you had pictured it. In your fantasies, there had always been a dark bedroom and Mingis body had been on top of yours, only distinguishable by faint lights outside the window. It was quick, rushed, and dirty, maybe Mingis hand would be clamped over your mouth to keep you from making any sounds since it would have to happen at one of your homes. Sometimes you’d imagine it happening in his car, parked somewhere secluded at night, it would be bumpy and awkward and sweaty and the focus would just be on both of you cumming as soon as possible.

You hadn’t pictured it like this. Like, Mingi looking at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time.

His hair is messy from your hands grabbing it, and the sunlight lights it up like a halo. Time feels unmoving, you’re drinking in the sight of him and trying to memorize every small detail.

He starts thrusting carefully and slowly. His back is upright, leaning away from you so he can watch his cock go in and out of you. You can’t stop watching him though. He’s so beautiful, his hair is a mess, and beads of sweat are starting to trickle down his chest. You reach your hands up, caressing his skin.

You wonder if you’re breaking some sort of unspoken rule. The two of you hadn’t discussed or set any boundaries, but when you slide your hands over Mingis chest and stomach, you wonder if you should have. This isn’t just fucking, you’re worshipping him and looking at him with intense adoration. He’s going so slow too, really taking his time. You’re not fucking, this is making love.

”I’ve never felt this good, you feel so good,” he moans under his breath. He curls his hands under your ass, picking you up so he can get better leverage to thrust as deep inside as possible. The new angle makes him groan, ”Fuck, you were made for me, weren’t you?”

It has you sobbing with pleasure. Mingis fingers are digging into your flesh, and he fucks you at this torturous pace for tens of minutes. You can truly feel the drag of his dick inside of you, when he bottoms out all the way inside to when the tip of his dick is at your entrance.

”You’re so good, oh my god! So good, you’re so handsome, Mingi,” you praise him, causing Mingi to pick up the speed.

You’re grabbing at his arms and shoulders, trying to pull him down, to get him closer. He lets you down on the bed and leans down, coming chest to chest with you, shoving his arm under your head instead. Your bodies are flush with each other now, Mingis pelvis rubbing against you and getting you close to cumming again stupidly quick.

His mouth is right by your ear, pressing a few sloppy kisses to your neck and temple. He is moaning your name and though his voice is hushed and strained you can still feel it reverberate through his chest, right against yours.

It’s precisely that which has you cumming, the sound of his voice calling your name over and over, telling you how good you feel. Your ears start to ring when your orgasm rolls through you and Mingi only picks up the pace to intensify it. You can faintly hear him, somewhere far away now, this otherwordly being showering you with so much affection it has tears forming in your eyes.

”You’re so perfect,” he’s telling you, fucking you faster. ”Just for me, all for me, you’re all mine.”

Somewhere through it, you realize he’s picked up the speed because he’s close too, but he wants to make it good for you before he pulls out. His eyes are on you, watching your breathing return to normal and feeling your hands unclench from his shoulders, and only when he’s certain that you’re coming down from the orgasm he leans back and pulls out. He only manages to get his hand around his cock before he cums all over your stomach, cumming so hard he shoots all the way up to your chest.

Mingis other hand is grabbing your waist and you can’t stop looking at the way he’s marked you up. There are red marks on you from the tips of his fingers, and little marks from his nails all over your hips, and you’re covered in his cum. Just seconds ago he’d told you that you’re all his, and in this moment you feel it.

”Fuck, that was…” Mingi is the first to speak. ”Shit, let me get you cleaned up.”

He scrambles for his underwear, starting to wipe his cum from your stomach.

You’ve managed to blink away the tears that welled up when you came, but there’s still a sob within your chest that you’re fighting to choke down. Everything about what just happened was about a thousand times more intense than you had ever dreamt of. Had he not pulled away you think you might have confessed to him right then and there.

”How are you feeling?” you ask him, clearing your throat and hoping Mingi reads it as just being fucked out.

”Very good,” he responds, without a hint of hesitance or a second of stalling. There’s a faint laugh in his voice, and he’s starting to smile. Nothing about him looks like you currently feel.

”Oh,” you say, struggling to find words. It’s not like you had expected him to just bare his heart and pour out confessions. You’d just expected something more to follow, after all of that. You had made love. There’s no other word for it.

Mingi leans down and kisses you once, so chaste you barely have time to kiss back.

He gets up and pulls out a pair of new boxers from his dresser, stepping in them.

”Fuck, I made you breakfast earlier and forgot all about it,” he tells you. You look over at the nightstand, where your breakfast sits forgotten.

”Oh,” you repeat. Your head drops back down on Mingis pillow. You speak again, ”I think I’d rather have a shower.”

It’s all so thoroughly strange. Mingi clasps his hand in yours and pulls you up from the bed, and you feel perturbed. You’ve seen Mingi greet Yunho with more affection than the way he helps you up on your feet. At least he joins you in the shower, but you feel weirdly disconnected from him. Even when he jokes and suds up his hair into silly hairstyles you can only manage halfhearted laughs.

Your body aches to have him closer, to feel him pressed against you and to have his lips back on yours again. The kisses he’s giving you now feel cheeky, as if he’s kissing you just because he can, and not because he truly wants to.

You suppose there’s reason to feel thankful, because at the very least Mingi hasn’t rejected you. His casualty is worth a lot more to you than the possibility that he could have pulled back and realized that everything about this was a mistake. He ruffles your hair after the shower, and it stings, but each second you continue to remind yourself that this is how things are supposed to be.

He lets you have one of his shirts after the shower, and he cooks you a very late lunch, then Mingi has to leave for work. Your legs are still unsteady when you make the walk back home to your house.

You prepare yourself to be ignored again. You busy yourself with cleaning your room, reading a book, cleaning out weeds in the garden, sending out job applications, anything you can to make the hours go by. You don’t want to check your phone, but your fingers itch to see if Mingi has texted you.

Nothing.

It’s not until late that night when you know Mingi's shift has ended that he calls you.

”Hey,” you answer, walking over to your window. Mingis car is in the driveway, but you can't see him in his room.

”Hi there,” he greets you. ”Busy day?”

”Oh you know, the usual,” you say. ”Mom wasn’t too happy with me spending the night but she was very relieved to hear it was with you.”

You’re still dressed in his t-shirt, and throughout the day you've been bringing the collar up to your nose to smell him on it. You find yourself doing it now too.

”Her head would explode if she knew what you were doing at my house this morning,” he teases you.

”Good thing no one will ever know then,” you joke, though it is the truth. It was always meant to be a secret.

”Right,” he says. ”So, do you think maybe you could come over tomorrow? My parents will be gone, I start working in the afternoon again, I was thinking maybe-”

”Yes,” you interrupt him.

Mingi laughs, ”Okay. Uh, do I sound desperate if I say that you can come over as soon as you wake up?”

”A little, but I like it,” you giggle.

”Good.”

”I’ll see you tomorrow then!”

You sleep so much better when you know that you’re seeing Mingi tomorrow. You wake up feeling completely rested, and you’re giddy as you sort out your bedhead and get dressed.

Mingis parents aren’t home, and there’s a spare key resting atop the frame of the front door that you use to let yourself into their home. It’s still early, early enough that you know that Mingi is probably fast asleep in his bed. You try to keep your steps light as you trudge up the stairs and into his room. The curtains are drawn, only letting in a stream of sunlight that lights up a sliver on his bed. The orange morning sun is casting a few inches of light on his thigh, so you let it lead you.

It’s where you first press a kiss. He smells of sleep and Mingi, you inhale the scent of his skin between kisses you trail all over his thigh and over the front of his underwear. Mingi sighs softly in his sleep, hips twitching when your lips kiss the tip of his dick through the fabric of his boxers. You’re looking up to watch his face, but when he’s still asleep as you mouth over his entire cock, you crawl up and kiss his lips.

Mingi huffs and puffs, twisting underneath you. You continue to kiss all over his sleepy, confused face. He cracks an eye open, transforming from a groggy confusion to a content smile.

”Morning,” he mumbles happily.

”Hey,” you whisper, kissing the corner of his mouth. ”Can I suck you off?”

He lets out a drawn-out moan that tapers off into a sigh, nodding fervently. His hands are weak and his fingers fumble to find purchase in your hair when you pull his underwear down his legs and take him into your mouth right away.

He sounds so lovely, all raspy and deep from his sleep. Even though he’s just come to consciousness, Mingi makes sure to tell you how good you are making him feel. He moans your name, over and over, giving you so much praise it’s making your head swim.

It doesn’t take him long to get close, so you choke out permission for him to cum in your mouth, and Mingi listens eagerly. Even as he cums he’s vocal, talking you through it and reminding you to breathe all while he praises you for how well you take it. He’s so gentle it’s making you moan as you swallow, and when you pull off his dick you scramble to get his thigh between yours.

Mingis hands guide your hips over his thigh, setting the pace for you to hump him. He keeps the praise coming, and when he feels you getting close he pulls you down for a numbing kiss. You cum on his thigh while deep in a kiss, and Mingi holds you close to his chest as you come down from it.

Somewhere in the post-orgasm haze, you both fall asleep. It’s peaceful and quiet, Mingi lulls you to sleep with the sounds of his breath and his fingers drawing patterns on your back. When you wake up again it’s in a sweat. His little bedroom is swarming with heat, so you decide on a shower, where Mingi has your chest pressed against the white tiles while he fucks you until you’re cumming a second time, this time while full of his cock. He bites down on your shoulder to keep from cumming until he knows you’re fully satisfied, and only then does he pull out and let himself cum on your ass.

When you’re pulling his shirt over your head 10 minutes later while he cooks you lunch, you catch sight of marks on your shoulder. His teeth had dug hard enough to bloom bruises on your skin, and your mind reels at the fact that he has marked you up.

Mingi has you coming over the next morning too, after you’d spent the previous night sending him pictures of the bruises his teeth left on your skin. His responses had been sporadic as he focused on work, but it didn’t stop you from going into detail about all the things you want Mingi to do to you.

It’s like all the limits have finally vanished, neither of you are held back by the fears and worries of before. It’s just like it had been before you moved back, when you only had phone calls to rely on. Back then, the comfort had come from the fact that you didn’t have to actualize all the things you spoke about. You had time to feel each other out and discuss what you want, all without having to put yourself on the line for possible failure. Now, you’ve found reassurance in the fact that you do have a physical relationship.

You know each other in your bones. You can read all the queues his body gives you, and you know what every little expression on his face means. You can sense differences in his sighs and you know what his voice sounds like when it’s getting to be too much. There’s no room for doubt when Mingi is in front of you, you just intrinsically know what he needs.

The two of you fall into a routine. When morning comes, you skip over to Mingi's house and usually he’s still asleep, tired from his shift the day before. You wake him up with kisses or gentle touches, and if he’s hard by the time you get there, Mingi loves to wake up to you already taking care of him. Some mornings you simply lay beside him, tracing his face with your finger. His hair sticks to his forehead so you brush it back, giving soft kisses to the side of his temple. Your pointer finger follows the contour of his nose and lips, feeling the warmth of his breath exit his nose.

Even though he’s asleep and unaware of your worship, you can’t bring yourself to stop. It’s in these moments you can be fully truthful with your affections. Letting your hands linger on his chest for a moment longer, focusing on his heartbeat underneath your palm. You whisper things to him you’re too afraid to say when he can hear you, just to release yourself from the need. It satiates you enough, like this airing out of your system, enough to keep you going until the next morning when you once again get overwhelmed with the sight of his sleeping form blanketed by sunlight. There is only one thing you forbid yourself from saying, three words that you vow to never let yourself speak.

A full two weeks pass of this. Every day you explore something new, things you’ve spoken about on the phone over the last year. With Mingis parents working daytime, you have full freedom to be as loud as you want. Mingi also takes full advantage of a free house. One morning he bends you over the kitchen counter while breakfast is still cooking. His mouth is always right by your ear, moaning and telling you how bad he needs you, despite fucking you upstairs in his bedroom just an hour earlier. Another day he has you ride him on the couch right before he leaves for work. You love it most when Mingi randomly decides to go down on you, whether it’s in the shower or he makes you lie down on the kitchen table. When he’s got his mouth on you he’s possessive, making sure to mark up your thighs and hips. It happens so often that he sometimes ends up darkening the hickeys he left a few days earlier.

Then Mingis schedule changes, and he has to work in the mornings. It doesn’t stop you, but it puts a damper on things as you know them. You have to meet in the afternoons instead, and with Mingi's parents home you end up sitting through long dinners with his parents, reminiscing and talking. It makes sex a little difficult, and Mingi hates the fact that you have to be quiet. He picks you up in his car a few times, but quick head while parked at the edge of the woods is a harsh contrast to the hours of sex you’d been able to have a few weeks earlier.

You’re caught by surprise one day when your phone calls and you rush to pick up only to find Yunhos voice at the other end. You’re so surprised that you pull your phone away and check the name on the screen, and sure enough it’s Yunho's contact name.

”Hey,” you reply, trying to play off the shock.

”Not happy to hear from me?” he teases.

”Shut up, you know I am!” you joke back.

He laughs in return and makes some small talk, telling you how much fun it was to see you and asking you how you’ve been.

”But, hey, uh,” he interjects. ”You ended up leaving with my shirt, is there any chance I could get it back?”

”Shit,” you curse, squeezing your eyes shut in embarrassment. ”You’re right, I totally forgot. Uh, do you want me to bring it by today?”

”That’d be perfect, thanks!”

When Yunho hangs up the phone, you chew nervously at your lip. Getting the shirt back to Yunho wouldn’t be an issue, it’s just that it’s in Mingi’s room somewhere, and asking him to locate it would probably lead to another weird moment where Mingi says something petty. You’re pacing around your room when your eyes land on his driveway and you remember that Mingi is at work. You’re just about to call Yunho and tell him today’s gonna be impossible, before the solution hits you.

Mingis mom opens the door to their home when you knock, and beams at the sight of you on their doorstep.

”Sweetheart! Hi there, Mingi is at work right now, I’m afraid,” she tells you while wrapping her arms around you for a hug. She always does this, even though you’ve been spending a lot of time over at their house recently, Mingis mother hugs you every time she sees you.

”I know, it’s just that I left something in Mingi's room that I need to get if that’s okay?”

So she lets you run up to his bedroom. You feel a little bad while rummaging through his room, but it doesn’t take you long to find Yunhos flannel shirt bunched up halfway underneath Mingis dresser. Mingis mom tries to convince you to stay for dinner, but you tell her you have to get going, and within moments you’re in your car on the way to Yunhos house.

It’s another picture-perfect day outside, the sky is a pristine blue and the wind is blowing just enough to bring some relief in this heat. Yunho is outside in his front yard, with the rear of his car jacked up.

”Hey, you!” you call, getting out of your car. ”Car trouble?”

You can tell by the fact that he has picked apart the entire wheelhouse that it’s not just something routine, but Yunho shrugs his shoulders.

”Not something I can’t fix,” he smiles. ”Dude, you’re quick. I called you, what, 30 minutes ago?”

You nod, sitting down on the tire Yunho has removed.

”Honestly, I was losing my mind at home. I’ve been doing jack shit for days now, I think I might die out of boredom,” you complain.

”Oh, so you’re saying you left the minute you got my call just because you had nothing better to do? It’s not just because you love me?” Yunho quirks an eyebrow, wiping grease from his forehead.

”Can’t it be both? And anyway, I had to go over to Mingis to get your shirt, so I didn’t leave ’the minute I got your call’,” you say, sticking out your tongue at him.

”It was at Mingi's house?” he asks.

Something comes over Yunhos face that you can’t pinpoint.

”Yeah.. I left with him during the party, and we went to his house afterward.” You hope he buys it as a reasonable enough explanation, it’s at the very least true. Just not the entire truth.

Yunho shrugs, and his eyes lose the edge they just had. He smiles, ”Leaving in one man's shirt to go to another dude's house, all in one night.. Impressive, I’ll give you that.”

”Fuck off!” you huff, kicking Yunhos shoe.

He laughs, slapping down a greasy hand on your knee to let you know that he’s just joking, even though you already know that.

”Although…” you trail off. ”Mingi did say that it’s your move.”

”Oh yeah, it is. I wasn’t expecting you to fall for it, though.” Yunhos's voice is still teasing, but not in the same way that Mingis usually is. You can tell that Yunho is just friendly, that there’s no flirting laced in his words or tone. It makes you miss Mingi.

”I don’t fall for things like that,” you retort, but quickly find your mind going to all the shirts Mingi has let you borrow these past weeks. You wear them all day, every day, even when you come back home after spending time with him. You even sleep in them, and you frequently bury your face in the collar to smell his laundry detergent. The few times he gives you a shirt he’s already worn you end up getting so worked up about it that you think you’d be getting yourself off while smelling it, if it wasn’t for the fact that Mingi now has you cumming at least twice a day.

So, perhaps you do fall for tricks like that. But only when it’s Mingi.

Yunho goes silent, and you can see that he’s chewing on the inside of his lip.

”What’s wrong?” you ask him.

His eyes flick over to yours for a second, then he looks at his hands. You’ve never seen Yunho this deep in thought outside an academic setting, and something about it is making you uneasy.

”You know,” he begins, but the words die as quickly as he says them.

”Yes?” you try again.

He pauses, looking up at you.

”You know that Mingi is my best friend,” he says. ”And I love him, I do, but sometimes he acts like an idiot. And I can’t- I just hate seeing it, you know?”

”Okay,” you mumble, only growing more confused with every word Yunho says.

”I don’t think it was right how he came here with you, then spent the whole night talking to everyone but you. But, he just gets so weird sometimes, right? And like I said, I love him, he’s my best friend, but- we just thought it would be different when you came back home. So, Wooyoung and I decided to see what would happen if I lent you my shirt, and-.. Yeah.”

”What… What are you saying?” Your voice is getting quieter. The cheery happiness from before has retired, and there’s something strange in the atmosphere now. You can’t understand what Yunho is getting at, but there’s a part of you that wonders and wishes. A part of you that can read between the lines of what Yunho is too afraid to say out loud.

”It’s not my place to say,” Yunho says, looking everywhere but your eyes.

”At least tell me what you intended to do with this shirt.” It’s still in your hands, his flannel, and your fingers are tightening around it.

”We just figured that maybe he needed a push,” he tells you, sounding so sheepish.

”You wanted him to get jealous?” you finally say it out loud. Yunho doesn’t meet your eyes, but it’s a clear enough answer. So you ask, ”What do you know about me and Mingi?”

”In all honesty? I don’t know anything. And it used to hurt me because Mingi is my best friend and I’ve known him since we were kids. But that’s what clued me in because I know for a fact that he would have told me if you were dating,” Yunho says. You’re holding your breath while listening to him. He continues, ”I, uh, I accidentally saw the preview of a text you sent him once. Something about.. well, that’s not important. But, I realized it then. We all thought it was just a matter of time, and that you’d make it official when you moved back home.”

You’re hearing every single thing Yunho is saying, but the words just won’t stick. You’re becoming more aware of the birds singing and the sound of the wind among the treetops.

”Mingi is in love with you,” Yunho says. At last. The rest of his words blur together. He has been, a long time, doesn’t know it. Yunhos mouth is moving, and you know what he’s saying, but the rational part of you that knows this can’t be true has stopped listening long ago.

Mingi is not in love with you. He’s just not, that can’t be true.

Yunho scrambles towards you, hands landing on each of your knees. He looks so concerned and his mouth is still moving.

”-you okay? What’s wrong?” You hear once your brain stops blocking your ears. You’re crying, tears falling from your cheeks down onto your hands.

”What did I say?” Yunho asks frantically.

And the confessions start rolling. You tell Yunho about everything, from that first night to everything that has happened since you returned back home. You tell him about the weird moment when Mingi drove you home after the party.

”Don’t you hear it though? He’s in love with you! My god, I think he always has been,” Yunho says.

You scoff, ”He ignored me for four whole months during my first semester away. He’s not in love with me, this is just.. out of comfort, it’s just easy.”

”You’re both in denial. You know what I’m hearing? That Mingi was so heartbroken when you moved away that he couldn’t even be a good friend. That didn’t just extend to you, by the way. He barely hung out with us during that time, and it only changed when you came home for Christmas,” Yunho tries to lay it out for you.

”You’re wrong. You’re wrong-”

”I can’t tell you what to believe,” Yunho says. His hand squeezes your knee, leaving dirty marks of grease on your skin. It’s a gesture of comfort, and you appreciate it for what it is. ”You need to talk to Mingi. Maybe disarm him by telling him that you’re in love with him first.”

The air feels different when you drive back home. It feels heavier, somehow. Yunhos words bear an incredible weight and no matter how many times you run them through your head they don’t get any easier to process. It would be different if it had come from Seonghwa or Hongjoong, who would say practically anything to comfort you. You don’t think Yunho would sweeten his words like they would, or even at all.

You sit through a quiet lunch with your mom, unable to get your thoughts in any other direction than the conversation you just had with Yunho. For some reason, you feel absolutely stuck there, and you can’t see a way for things to work. It feels as if time has been suspended in wait for your next move. The hours tick on though. You lay in your bed and watch the numbers on your alarm clock change. Seconds turn into minutes, and then hours, and your mind is still stuck in the same place as it has since you left Yunhos house.

You don’t realize when the clock indicates that Mingi is ending his shift. The numbers are just ticking, hypnotizing you. You startle when your phone calls and the pit in your stomach grows when you know that it’s probably Mingi.

Your fingers move on pure muscle memory as you pick up your phone and swipe to answer the call, then raise the phone to your ear. Through the phone, you can hear Mingis car running.

”Hello?” Mingi asks. ”You know, it’s usually the person who picks up the phone who speaks first.”

”Sorry,” you croak. You don’t even recognize the sound of your voice.

”Are you okay?” Mingi sounds so concerned it makes your stomach twist. It’s still the same Mingi you have known all your life, and he’s the same man you’ve been fucking the past weeks, but something feels as if it has fundamentally changed. You try to listen to his voice, read it for any hint of tenderness you’d have previously missed. You can’t make out any, it’s the same Mingi as always.

”It’s been a weird day,” you settle for.

”Then what do you say about changing into your swimsuit and we go to the lake? It’s so hot out, I can’t stand to be home. And maybe it can take your mind off of things?” he suggests.

”Yeah, sounds good.”

”I’ll pick you up in 5, better hurry!”

Mingi hangs up. Your head feels all fuzzy and distant, but you pull yourself out of bed and get changed. While putting your clothes over your swimsuit you realize you’re in one of Mingis t-shirts. Every single bit of this feels like a divine punishment. To be dressed in Mingis clothes and have marks in the shape of his mouth decorate your chest and the insides of your thighs, to be so thoroughly claimed by him but yet not be his, is agonizing.

You’re aware that Mingi would park in your driveway and come knocking at your door, wanting to impress and appease your parents at every turn. You just can’t deal with that today, so you hurriedly make your way down the stairs and out your door to wait for him outside. You’re just in time, because Mingi is making the turn up your street and it’s only half a minute before he’s pulling up to your house and you’re getting in his car.

”Hey, I missed you!” Mingi sounds cheerful, sporting a smile so big it’s splitting. You hate the way that time and space curl around Mingi each time you see him as if he presents to you in technicolor and slow motion. Your eyes pass over each feature, trying your best to handle what just seeing him does to your body.

Mingi keeps a pair of extra sunglasses in his car for you, and when you’re sat down he leans over to place them on your face. The gesture is enough to make your breath hitch, but he uses it as an opportunity to lean in for a swift kiss, and you feel as if you’re floating.

Today, Mingi has Fleetwood Mac playing softly throughout the car.

You’re just looking at Mingi with this pit in your stomach, this sense of impending doom sitting heavy in your abdomen. The world feels slow and strangely saturated. The seconds stretch on infinitely, allowing you plenty of time to watch the sunlight adorn Mingi's skin.

You’re aware that you can’t stop staring. When Mingi parks the car and you start making the short walk through the trees to get to the lake, your eyes are always set on him. From the towel slung over his shoulder to the sweat that has broken out and is trickling down the nape of his neck. You’re trying to make sense of the sight in front of you, the same Mingi you’ve made this walk with a hundred times, the only difference being that he’s had you in the most intimate and tender ways now. It forces you to rewrite history, the memories of your childhood innocence are permanently changed. If only you had known then, while sitting on the big rock and throwing pebbles out to break the still surface of the water if you had only known that the boy handing you rocks would end up being the man you fall in love with fifteen years later.

Your stupid, stupid heart. Sometimes you think the ribs, flesh, and muscle containing it won’t be enough to keep it in place. It beats so hard and fast it billows from your chest, through your arms, and out to the very tip of each finger. You have to flex them to stop that lovesick tingle from numbing you.

The water is beautiful. The lake looks just like you remember it, the wind is blowing slight ripples upon the surface and the trees are swinging lightly. Besides the gentle hum of nature, the place is completely undisturbed and it’s just you and Mingi here today.

You're placing your towels down and undressing in silence, barely glancing at each other. You sneak little glances at him in the corner of your eye, wondering what he’s thinking. Yunhos words are still echoing through your head, getting louder and more unbearable for every minute that passes.

Mingi is wading into the water before you know it, covered up to his knees, then thighs, then his waist, and eventually he points his arms and dives in entirely. He erupts back through the surface with a shriek that echoes over the lake, and you can’t stop yourself from laughing.

He rushes back up to where you’re laying on your towel, shoulders bunched up in reaction to the cold water. Mingi shakes his head above you to force droplets onto your bare skin, laughing loudly when you yell in protest. Things feel so extraordinarily regular, it’s as if you have transported back ten years in time. Even when Mingi gets down on his towel and leans over to kiss you, it still feels so normal. It just feels so right with Mingi, like this is what you’re meant to be doing.

Mingis's mouth is cold and wet from his dip in the water, and his hair continues to drip onto your face, but you find it hard to care when he wraps you up in a long, passionate kiss. He’s on his stomach on his towel now, as close to you as he can get. Your heart beats with a discernible nervosity at the fact that you are laid out in the open with Mingi making out with you. There would be quite a walk for anyone else to get here, and you would probably be able to hear branches breaking or even a car parking way before anyone could walk upon the scene and spot the two of you. The risk of getting caught here is low, but you still feel like you’re on display.

Mingis cold fingers wrap around your jaw where he keeps you firmly as his tongue enters your mouth. The kissing goes to your head very quickly, dulling all your senses as all your thoughts are replaced by what Mingi is doing with his mouth. He knows you so well that he pulls away seconds before you lose your breath, letting you regain it while he kisses the corner of your mouth softly. His hand trails over your chest and down your stomach carefully, feeling the way your ribcage heaves as your breaths get steadier.

Mingis eyes follow the path of his hand before he abruptly stops by your knee.

”What’s that?” he asks you. You have to crane your neck to see what he’s looking at. Not much remains of it, but there are still faint marks of dirt and grease on the top of your knees. Just on the outside of your leg, there’s an unmistakable fingerprint.

”Oh,” you mumble. Mingi detaches himself from you with a quickness that makes you lose your breath, and you scramble to get up too.

”I don’t- I feel like I don’t even need to ask who left that on you,” Mingi says.

”It was Yunho,” you rush out, wanting so badly to resolve this before Mingis thoughts spin and twist so bad that you can’t untangle them. It’s clear from the look on his face that your words and their haste only have the opposite effect.

”Yunho?” he questions, getting quieter.

”It’s not all what you think. He called me about that shirt he let me borrow a few weeks ago, remember? I went to his house to give it back and we got to talking. You know, just.. stuff, about life. I ended up getting emotional and he comforted me. I was crying and he put his hands on my knees, that’s all.” You read Mingis's face for any changes, but nothing happens. He only looks at you, taking in your half-truth excuse of an explanation.

”What is it that Yunho can comfort you about, but I can’t?” Mingi asks, his eyes staring into yours with so much intensity you feel like crying. You had expected everything but that. You’d rather Mingi accuse you of getting intimate with Yunho, that you’re lying and it’s a terrible cover story you’re spinning. You could defend yourself from all that, but not this.

”That’s not… Mingi, it’s not like that. I didn’t just choose to go there for comfort. It just happened, I just started crying, and that’s it,” you urge.

Mingis legs are drawn up to his chest and his arms are wrapped around them. He looks so small and vulnerable. His eyebrows are starting to furrow together, and you’re finding it hard to tell if it’s anger or sadness that is starting to show on his face. Both possibilities terrify you equally.

”Why?” he wonders, simply. ”Why did you cry?”

You can physically see the restraints he’s putting on himself to hear you out, to not race away with his worries. You wish it means what you want it to mean. That Mingis vulnerability was an act of love instead of self-preservation. He’s probably sat there worried at the threat of Yunho taking you away and replacing his role. That the fun you’ve had the past weeks, and the year before that, would be over, just like that. You wonder if he views it as a hindrance more than anything. Mingi has finally scored a way to have sex on the regular, without the commitment or worries of starting with someone new. What you have is a lot of comfort, and you suppose he doesn’t want to lose that.

Still, even this feels like a lot more than you deserve of him. If you can’t have Mingi in the ways that you want, you’ll have to do your best to preserve the arrangement you have now.

”It’s not important,” you mumble. You know it’s not a good enough answer.

Mingi lets the word hover in the air for a moment, pondering on whether he should let it go.

In the end, he decides to speak. ”There’s nothing you can tell me that would scare me off. You know that, right?”

”That’s not true,” you whisper, so quiet it’s almost a hiss. ”There is something I can’t ever tell you.”

Tears start to fall down your cheeks and it’s now a conscious effort to keep your sobs contained within your chest. The lake is still breathtaking, the wind is still and the sun is bright in the perfect blue sky. It’s a beautiful day to get your heart broken, at the very least.

Mingi stretches his fingers and you watch the tendons twitch and flex. You’re brought back to what you were doing earlier, shaking off your nerves.

”What if I say it first?” he says. You look up at his eyes.

”What?”

”That I love you,” he tells you. His eyes are big and dark, brimming with tears of his own. ”If I say it first, will you say it too?”

”Mingi-”

”I do love you,” he begins. ”It’s stupid, looking back, because I think I’ve loved you since before you left. I loved you that first night, I already knew it, and I felt so stupid when I woke up the morning after. Doing that with you when I was drunk out of my mind made me feel like shit. And then I felt even more like shit, because- because, it made me realize that it hadn’t been the way I wanted it to be. So I took comfort in the fact that it was over the phone, and I still had time to do it right. To start right, with you, I mean. I wanted our first time to be perfect. I knew I loved you when I kept thinking about it. But then, when you finally came back, it truly clicked. For a while, I had figured that I’d know how I felt about you when we had sex for the first time. But I was wrong because all it took was me seeing you to know that I’m in love with you.”

”Mingi,” you whisper, again, over and over. It’s all you can bring yourself to say, like a prayer, before you crawl over to him and press your lips to his. It doesn’t matter that it takes him a beat to respond, you don’t care at all anymore about how things get awkward or strange. You continue to kiss over his mouth until he’s ready to kiss you back, when time finally catches up to you and it dawns on you both that this is real.

You can’t stop kissing him, breathing out his name every time you part.

”I love you,” you mumble into his mouth. ”I’m so in love with you.”

Mingi smiles into the kiss. Your senses are overwhelmed with the taste of both your tears and the fact that you’re both now smiling and giggling, repeating ’I love you’s until the words merge.

He pulls you into his arms, tumbling over into the grass. He stops kissing you to just look at you, and you watch him too. Your Mingi, in the grass by the lake. Finally, your Mingi.

#mingi x reader #ateez angst #ateez imagine #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #mingi x y/n

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jacaerysgf · 2 years ago

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Econ tutor | 100 Follower Special

Summary: You're failing econ and you need to pass this semester. When you asked your professor he told you he would assign you a tutor, Ethan Landry.

Pairing: Ethan Landry x Fem!reader

Warnings: SLOWBURN, fluffy, he fell first and fell harder, no ghostface au! Ooc characters (Happy friend group laugh out loud), ethan gives me peanut allergy vibes, misunderstanding trope, strangers to friends to lovers, not proofread.

word count: 9.3k

Looking at the grade from your most recent test on canvas you can only groan and put your head in your hands, You suck at econ. Econ aka economics is one of the worst classes ever invented.

You couldn't fail this class, you needed it to graduate and you definitely weren't repeating it especially when you paid a lot of money to take it. As a freshman at Blackmore University you needed to take econ for your degree and it sucks.

You should email your professor and ask if he's free. You draft out an email and during his open hours you send it to ask if he has any advice for you to improve your grade. Just like any other professor he of course does not answer you within a reasonable time and all you can do is stress out for the next week.

He finally gets back to you and tells you to meet him after your last class. You dreadfully walk your way to his class and knock on the door. "Come in." You open the door and see your professor standing by his desk with a boy who must be the same age standing stiffly near him.

You make your way towards them and you feel confused, Did you get the time wrong? No, you repeatedly checked the time and date so you can't be wrong.

Your questions are quickly answered as he begins to speak. "This is Ethan Landry, he's a star student and he's agreed to tutor you and prepare you for the final." The final was a couple months away as it was only just the beginning of the second semester and you needed to pass it to pass the class.

You look at Ethan who smiled as soon as you looked at, "It's nice to meet you." "It's nice to meet you too." He's not bad to look at, at all. He's got a nice smile and curly hair, he wears a plain black hoodie and blue jeans with sneakers. He's cute.

The professor goes over some other things like scheduling and how you two should scheduling meeting days. Once you two are dismissed you are standing outside of his room with him.

"So, could I get your number?" He looks at you shocked, his face slightly red, "You know, so I can text you and we schedule a day to meet." He looks embarrassed, "Oh right."

You hand him your phone and he puts his number in and hands it back. An awkward silence falls over you as you bounce heel to toe. "So.... When are you free?"

"What?" "You know, like for our first session." You're shocked his face can get anymore red, "Right! I'm free any day. I never really have anything planned. Oh my god that sounds so lame I mean I have plans sometimes just not anytime soon-""Ethan." You're laughing. He's really cute.

He's looking down at his feet as he kicks some of the pebbles on the ground. "I'm sorry I'm not laughing at you. Promise." He nods. seemingly not believing in you as you continue. "So, What about thursday? I get out of my liberal arts class at 2 then I'm free for the rest of the day."

He nods, "I get out of algebra at 2:30 if you're willing to wait." You nod as you smile. “That's fine, We could meet in the library?” He nods, “yes that works.” You smile as he lifts his head, “I really want to thank you for doing this, I really appreciate it.” He nods and scratches the back of his neck with a sheepish grin, “It's no problem really.”

You begin to walk back and wave “I'll see you.” You turn back before he gets to say anything and head to your dorm for the day, exhausted after your morning classes. He seems like the nerdy smart type and that’s good because you really need help with this class. You should find a way to thank him for doing this.

It's monday so you have a couple days until your first session. For some odd reason you can't wait to study econ.

–

‘Do you have a favorite dessert?’ Ethan can barely believe his eyes at the text you just sent him. It's Tuesday and he doesn't have class on Tuesday so he spends the morning at the gym, sweat dripping down his face as he reads over the text you sent. Dessert? Why were you asking him about the dessert? “It's the first text you sent him other than a confirmation text to confirm it was actually his number (a text he totally did not stress over for about ten minutes before he answered)

He couldn't believe his luck when his econ professor had come up to him and asked if he would tutor you since you were failing the class. You being the person he had a massive crush on since he first saw you walking around campus, then he found out you were in the same econ class as him and began to sit closer to you during class so he could look at you. Not in a stalker way of course. He didn't mention this to anyone, especially not Chad, his roommate and the person who he considers to be his best friend. Chad would definitely find a way to make fun of him and beg him to ask you out at any given moment.

When he was talking to you yesterday he felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest. He made a fool out of himself and he was embarrassed, of course the first time he tries to talk to you he ruins it. You laughed at him, your laugh is nice so is your smile it's so much better when directed at him than seeing you smile from across the room. “What's got you smiling like that huh?” Chad had walked up to him with a curious look on his face and a grin. “Nothing.” Ethan quickly turned off his phone as Chad crossed his arms, “Nope what is it.” Ethan sighs, “It's nothing really.” His phone dings and before Ethan can blink, Chad is snatching it out of his hand, “Hey!” You texted again, ‘also do you have any allergies?’ Ethan tries to get the phone back but Chad is looking at it with a tilted head, “Y/n? With heart next to it dude you never told me you got a girlfriend.” Ethan manages to get the phone back and shakes his head, “She's not my girlfriend.” Chad now has a look on his face that Ethan does not like, “Oh you got a crush on the girl, got it.”

Ethan groans as he sits down on the bench, This isn't good. “I dont think ive heard of her, I'm gonna ask Tara if she knows her.” Chad pulls out his phone. “Please don't.” “aaaaaaand send, oh no too late.” Ethan groans and lays back on the bench with his head in his hands. This is the worst, exactly what he was trying to avoid. Ethans phone buzzes and he looks at it, ‘No way your nerd ass has a crush on that hottie LOL.’ He throws the phone on the ground next to him and covers his face. Chad laughs, “Oh she works with Tara and is her lab partner, ooo she sent me her insta.” Ethan’s ears burn, he is so embarrassed. “Oh she's cute, ask her out.”

Ethan finally sits up, “No way.” Chad rolls his eyes, “Dude why not.” Ethan shakes his head, “She doesn't like me. She doesn't even know me.” Chad sits on the bench next to him, “If she doesn't like you then why the hell is she asking you if you're allergic to anything?” “I dont know im her tutor for econ-” “woah woah woah woah back up.” Ethan sighs, “You're her tutor??” “Starting thursday.” He can't wait for Thursday, it had only been a day since he found out and he could barely contain his excitement. “Oooo the perfect opportunity to ask. her. out.” “Chad-” “Think about it, you two are sitting cozy in your bed going over notes-” “Why are we in my bed?” “And you make a move on her, it's perfect.” “You're ridiculous.” “I'm not being ridiculous, I'm being serious, ask her out.”

Ethan stands up and cleans up his stuff to leave, “Nope and this is exactly why i didn't want to tell you.” Chad shakes his head, “Don’t worry man I got you.” “Don't even think about it.”

–

‘Um, I like cookies.’

‘Allergies? I'm allergic to peanuts.’

You had settled on making him a dessert as a gift most people like desserts right?. Cookies it is. You started researching different recipes and planned out a day to go get ingredients when you got a text from tara.

‘Hey, are you free on friday?’

You groan and hope she's not about to ask you to cover a shift for her, Fridays are usually a free day for you, no classes and no school so you're free to do what you want and you do not want to spend another Friday covering a shift.

‘If you need me to cover a shift for you, no but if it's for anything else then yes.’

‘You wouldnt cover for me 🙁’

‘No way.’

‘Im joking, you're coming with me to go bowling with my friends. Five. be dressed i'm gonna come pick you up.’

‘Do I have a choice? You never invite me to these things.’

‘Nope. love you <;3’

Why does she want you to come? It's an odd request because despite the fact you two are close you've never been invited to hang with her friend group, you don't even know who’s in said group. You thumbs down her last message before going back to your cookie research.

–

“She’s coming!” “Nice!” Ethan glares at Tara and Chad as they high five and peck lips in his dorm. “What are you two talking about?” Tara smiles at him as she moves to leave for the night, “Oh nothing, just got you a bowling partner for friday, you're welcome.” Ethan tilts his head confused, “I thought Quinn was gonna be my partner.” His sister, Quinn, while not a main member of their friend group, usually joined them for these sorts of hang outs, “She cant make it she needs to make up a test for physics.”

Ethans earlier conversation with Chad plays in his mind as he looks at them, “What did you two do?” “Nothing! Goodnight!” “Tara!” She runs out the door and he turns to Chad, “Don't you dare tell me-” “You're welcome.”

Ethan flops onto his bed and sighs. He should have never let Chad find out and now Tara knew and that only made it worse. He runs his hands over his face, he really likes you and he doesn't want to ruin it, now he would be partnered with you for bowling and the worst thing is he sucks at bowling.

–

It was wednesday and you were in lab with tara doing some research lab, she was clearly not interested in it though as she started talking to you.

"So I heard you're getting tutored for econ." you turn to her shocked, "how did you hear about that?" she rolls her eyes, "um i'm dating chad?" "I know? what does that have to do with anything?" she gives you a dumbfounded look, "Ethan is Chad's roommate? And my friend? did you seriously not know this, he's gonna be there on friday."

oh. "No?!? why would i know that tara i usually tune out whenever you start talking about him-" "hey what's that supposed to mean-" "it means i don't want to hear about you and what your boyfriend are up to especially knowing you-" "knowing me?-" "you're gonna say something weird so i tune out-" "I would never." You give her a blank stare and she shrugs, "You're just mad I have a hot boyfriend. I knew it."

You groan and look at your paper and begin to work, "definitely not jealous tara." "sure...." for a few moments it's quiet and you hope that's the end of her questioning but of course, "there has to be a guy you think is cute."

You look at her, "What?" "Is there a guy you think is cute?" "Tara, stop pushing your relationship agenda onto me. I don't need a boyfriend- ""or a girl I don't judge-" "tara." "One person just named one."

you roll your eyes, "i don't know," You think and your mind automatically drifts back to ethan. You two haven't texted since you asked him about desserts but right now when asked if there's a guy you think is cute all you can think about are his dreamy eyes and curly hair. "Ethans pretty cute." You blurt out before you can stop yourself and slap your hand over your mouth, tara grins. You don't like that grin.

"I see...." "I didn't mean to say that-" "okay...." "Tara forget about it." "No way." she pulls her phone and texts someone while you can only look at her with horror. "Who are you texting?" "nobody." she smiles as she puts her phone down and goes back to work, "Oh come on we need to finish this paper." "I hate you."

Thursday had rolled around faster than you thought it would. Yesterday after your work shift you walked to the grocery store and picked up what you needed to make a (hopefully) good batch of cookies. Walking out of your liberal arts class you walk back to your dorm and pick up the cookies you made and make your way to the library.

You sit down at one of the empty tables and text him where you're sitting. You don't receive a response until 2:30, 'Okay! I'll meet you there, just need to run back and grab my econ textbook.'

He walks in at 2:45, he spots you and smiles as he moves towards you. "Hi." "Hey there." He sits across from you. He looks cute today, he's wearing a red sweater with black jeans, and his hair looks really soft. "So..." You realize you're staring and look down at your notes you had pulled out. “Um….” It's awkward, his face is red and he’s fiddling around with his papers. You need to end this before you guys just end up sitting here in silence. “Do you mind if we start with the recent test, I'm sorry but it's just… It was really bad.” You laugh and he smiles, “No I mean yes! Of course we can.” As soon as you begin you fall into an easy conversation, He’s way more confident while going over Econ, you realize it's kind of hot that he’s so smart.

“I'm sorry but I don't know how much more econ I can take for the day.” You rub your head as he laughs. It's now after six and you're starving. “That's okay, we can wrap up for the day and continue next time.” You two pack up and walk out the library together, the sun is set so it's dark out and he looks at you worried, “I didn't even notice the sun had set.” You say looking at the sky, “Please it's my fault let me walk you to your dorm.” You laugh and shake your head, he looks really worried and apologetic, it's cute. “Ethan really it's okay not your fault at all, probably mine to be honest i really didn't get all that inflation stuff.” You really sucked at anything with money, especially if it's in economics, you two had to sit there for an hour as he went over just that one question with you.

“No.. really it was- i mean please let me walk you there. I would feel bad letting you walk on your own, not that you can't take care of yourself of course but you know it's late and there are a lot of weird guys walking around right now i kind of seem like a weird guy don't i shit-""Ethan!” You're laughing, he really is so cute. He stares at you amazed at you laughing before he looks down, “I'm sorry, I can go-'' He quickly turns to leave but you grab his arm to stop him. His arm feels muscular, does he have muscles? No… is he really underneath all those baggy hoodies and sweaters he wears? He turns back to you alarmed, “Walk me home? Maybe you're right there are a lot of weirdos around and I need a big strong guy over 6 ft to protect me, don't you think?”

You squeeze his arm reassuringly as his face burns and his ears go red. You're teasing him, you look at the look on his face and think about apologizing before he speaks again, “Yes.”

You swear you saw him puff his chest slightly. You almost laugh but after seeing his reaction last time you dont and smile at him as you let go of his arm, "my dorm is this way." you lead him and he walks next to you side by side. "Wait here." He switches places with you so he's next to the road, He's sweet. You two fall into a comfortable silence, it's nice. He bumps into you slightly as you walk, his arms are warm. Your hands brush against each other but before anything else can come from it you arrive at your door.

"Thank you for everything I mean, I really appreciate it." "It's no problem really." You nod as he turns to leave, he makes it a few steps before you call after him, "Wait! shit i can't believe i almost forgot." He turns to you confused, "is everything-" "I made these for you." Youre hold out a container for him and he stares at it, "They're cookies."

He looks at you in disbelief, "You mentioned you liked them so I thought I would make you some, you know, as a thank you for tutoring me." He stares at you not moving, "if you don't want them that's okay too i promise i didn't poison them." You try to awkwardly joke, feeling a little defeated he didn't want the cookies. He snaps back and shakes his head furiously, "no no no no i want them thank you im just, really shocked." He takes the container out of your hands and holds them as if he fears they're gonna be taken away from him. "Thank you." he says quietly, looking at the container.

"no thank you." You walk back and get to your door, still standing there looking at you. You smile at him and wave "Bye I'll see you tomorrow!"

He's frozen outside your dorm as he stares at where you were just standing. He's gripping the container tightly in disbelief. You had made him cookies. The last time someone made him cookies was his mom who died years ago. He looks down at the container as his hands begin to shake.

He realizes how crazy he must look, standing outside your dorm so he quickly begins to walk to his dorm. His face hurts from how hard he's grinning, all the time he thinks he can't fall any deeper for you he does. Today was the best day ever, you two sat there for hours. He felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest every time you looked at him while he was going over a topic. When you got so excited every time something finally made sense and you looked at him, your face covered with a smile, he felt like he couldn't breathe.

When you were asking him questions all he could do was stare at you. You were the most beautiful girl in the world to him. He opens his door and enters his dorm, the large grin never leaving his face. "Awe look at you." Chad was leaning against a wall and smiling, "You're adorable." Ethan ignores Chad as he moves past him to his bed. He places the container on his desk and his bag on his chair then sits on his bed to take off his shoes"what's this huh?" Chad inspects the container of cookies with a teasing look. "Put that down."

Chad opens the container, "Cookies? Where did you get these? Can I have one?" Ethan rolls his eyes and shakes his head, "Get out." Chad hums his thoughts and his eyes light up, "did y/n make these for you? oooooo i get it loverboy you don't want me to have any of the sweet cookies your girlfriend made with love for you." Ethan stands and snatches the container out of his hands, "Shut up!" He's red and his grin still hasn't left, Chad looks happy. "So anything fun happens?" Ethan shakes his head, "We just did econ that's all." "boring.'' Chad leaves not before yelling a quick ask her out. Ethan begins to rethink the day. Every Time he thinks he's done something right with you he always finds a way to mess it up.

He takes a shower and changes into his clothes for bed and as he's about to sleep he eyes the container of cookies. He takes one and bites into it. It's sweet.

You close the room to your dorm and sigh. The tutor session kicked your ass, you kicked off your shoes and threw your tote bag to the ground and layed down on your bed. Today went well, you were shocked when you looked at your notes you could actually comprehend what any of it meant. It was all thanks to ethan.

You were shocked you found yourself enjoying his presence so much. It was weird, you didn't expect yourself to like him as much as you did. He was smart, kind, he made you laugh, he didn't degrade you when you didn't understand the topics he went through it with you slowly and made sure to go over anything thoroughly, he wasn't like most of the other guys on campus who were douchebags. you were glad you got ethan as your econ tutor.

It's now Friday, almost five as you put the finishing touches on your outfit. As you get a text from tara, 'HERE COME OUT NOW' you roll your eyes and grab your bag and walk out the door.

A large group of people are out there chatting, you don't recognize most of them. The door closes behind you and all the heads turn towards you.

"Hey dude." "Hey tara." Tara rushes over and gives you a hug. "So this is mindy, chad, anika," They all smile at you, you notice mindy and anika holding hands and standing side by side, anika waves while mindy nods. Chad is standing behind Tara and gives you a knowing smile, "and of course you know ethan." Ethan. He's standing in the back with his hands in his jeans, he's wearing a blue polo shirt with a black jacket. He looks really cute.

You smile back at him and look into his eyes. He locks eyes with you and he smiles. "Wait, you two know each other?" Mindy asks with an accusing finger. "I tutor her for econ." "really?" Anika looks back at Ethan who nods.

Tara claps and gets everyone's attention, "enough standing around let's move guys." Tara wraps her arm around chads and begins to walk, mindy and anika following closely behind leaving you and ethan walking side by side.

"I really liked the cookies." You turn to him as he looks away, you smile as a warm feeling fills your chest. "I'm glad."

"So did i." Chad looks back with a smile, "you had one?" Ethan asks with a glare, "we split one, you need to make some for me." Tara calls from the front. "I will as long as you stop asking me to cover for you at work." She gasps, "I would never." You give her a blank look as she laughs.

"So how long have you two been studying together?" Anika looks back at you with a smile, "um, we only had one session yesterday, he's supposed to be tutoring me until the final." You look at Ethan who has a big smile on his face. Anika looks at the two of you and gives mindy a knowing look.

An easy conversation begins to flow between you all as you walk to the bowling alley. You sneak glances at Ethan who wears a grin on his face while everyone in the group teases him for whatever they 're currently talking about. You like the way he acts around his friends, he's a little more confident as he shuts Chad up for making fun of his messy room or arguing with mindy about some horror movie. It was nice, the night hadn't even begun but you felt like you hadn't had this much fun in forever.

You all finally arrive at the place and they all rush to get their shoes. "So the pairs will be, me and tara, anika and mindy then y/n and ethan." "Oh we'll be in pairs?" you turn to ethan and smile, "we're gonna win." His face is red but he nods, "Definitely."

"I'd like to see you try dude." Chad slaps his back he leans in close to you, "fyi he's terrible at bowling." "Dude!" Chad runs away before Ethan can say anything else. "I'm not good either, it's okay, as long as I do better than Tara I don't care." To this he laughs, "Oh we definitely need to do better than tara." You two laugh as you go to collect your shoes and pick your ball.

"Can you hurry or else I'm gonna put you last." You walk over to Tara and roll your eyes, "you're gonna put me last anyways." She gasps, "I would-" "never yes I know." She pouts as you sit next to anika.

Ethan makes his way over and sits down next to you. The order is decided to be anika, mindy, you, ethan, chad then tara.

As anika takes her turn Chad starts talking to you. "So how long have you and Tara been friends?" You think before answering, "um, I had been working at this place for a couple years and I had heard about her when she was hired. Never got the chance to talk with her until we started working the same shifts. We got along and soon found out we attend the same school. We got the same lab class, she became my partner and she's been bothering me ever since." "Hey."

"So you've been living in New York your whole life?" Ethan asks, "yup born and raised." Mindy cheers anika up as she misses her shot, Mindy walks up to take her turn, not before giving anika a kiss and anika sits down. “So what are we talking about?” You guys flow into an easy conversation, mostly about yourself, like your major or what your interests are before it's your turn.

“Can I admit something?” you turn to the group, “I have no clue how to bowl.” Tara looks at you shocked, “No…” You laugh, “I seriously never have before.” “Well I can-” “Ethan can show you how to.” Chad is quick to interrupt anika, the two share a look, “oooooo yeah yeah yeah yeah can definitely show you right ethan.” The rest of them start to encourage him as he gives them a look you can't read. “I don't really care who teaches me, I just wanna throw this thing away.” Ethan stands, “I can do it.” He moves to take off his jacket and you're greeted by the sight of his muscular arms.

Wow. He really does have muscles. You stare at his arms as he walks towards you. You've always thought he was cute but he just got so much hotter. His shoulders are large, and the polo on him is tighter than you thought, his chest pressing against the fabric.

You look at his face finally and see it's very red and he's standing stiff. Oh my god you were blatantly checking him out. you turn your back towards him and go to pick up your ball. The group behind you laughs as Ethan walks towards you. you put your fingers in the holes and pick up the ball.

"So when you're throwing it you want your arm to be straight..." You try to correct your arm position and look at him, "like this?" he shakes his head, "no it's more... um do you mind if i..." you nod as he comes closer to readjusting you himself, his warm body is basically pressed against you as he moves your arms and shoulders slightly. "That's better." It's a small whisper in your ear but your face burns.

God when did he get so hot. No he always was but right now it's all you can think about. Fuck. He moves his hand to cover yours, "and when you throw it it's something like... this." he sways your hand and you let go of the ball. You watch as the ball rolls and it knocks all the pins down.

"No way." You cheer as you turn to face him, "I did it!" you hug him and he stands stiff. You let go and turn towards the rest of the group who clap. "Good job." "Nice!"

"That was really good." His ears are red as you mumbles out the words. "Well it's all thanks to my wonderful teacher." You smile at him and he looks away, "no...."

"enough flirting then it's your turn." Mindy yells as the rest of the group laughs. You walk back to the rest of the group and sit down and watch ethan. He stands still for a few seconds before shaking it off and walking towards his ball.

You had no clue what Chad was talking about because Ethan continued to get strikes, if not really good scores for the rest of the night. You're shocked by this and seemingly the rest of the group is too.

When you go to the bathroom the group confronts him."When the hell did you get so good at bowling? Have you been practicing?" Ethans face is shocked and he quickly blinks his eyes and shakes his head, "No..." Chad catches this and laughs, "No way you've really been practicing." "It's not true!" His face feels hot and he quickly looks down at his feet.

"Why did you practice?" Anika asks, "Clearly because he didn't want to humiliate himself in front of his little girlfriend." Tara laughs and Ethan feels like he wants to curl up into a ball and die.

Yes he had been practicing, any hour he could squeeze in since finding out you would be joining them for bowling night he came down to the bowling alley to practice. He was bad, the worst of the group at least and now he can compete with Chad in score. You come back soon enough, you question what they were talking about but they all just laugh.

You cheer as Ethan throws his last strike signifying your win. “We did it!” You hug him as he walks over, unlike last time he hugs you back and squeezes you tightly. You pull back and look at him and smile, “I didn't know you were that good.”

He smiles sheepishly and shakes his head, “I'm not-” “Yes you are.” You slap his chest lightly and he looks shocked. “Stop putting yourself down, you carried my ass through that game, admit it.” He shakes his head, his grin is large as he looks down, “No-” “Stop it!” You turn back to the rest of the group who all have grins on their face, “What?”

“Oh nothing.” Tara says as she stands up, “It's later than i thought lets go i have to open tomorrow.” “Do you really? I'm close.” “Shit you're so lucky.” “Am i really i have to close for your messy ass.” She shoves you and you laugh.

You all leave together and walk back to the dorns. When you all get there they all turn to you. “You passed congrats.” You look confused, “What?” “I told you guys she was great.” “I wish Sam could have made it.” “What's happening?” “Welcome to the friend group!” You think before realization hits you, “Oh!” You laugh, “Thanks guys.”

They all say their goodbyes and anika gives you a hug before they all walk off to their dorms. Ethan stays with you and fiddles with his hands. “I thought i should walk you to your dorm, its-” “Late, yes it is, thank you my knight in shining armor.” He looks away and you two walk side by side to your dorm.

You admire him, as you two walk in silence. At your door you say goodbye and wave and he waves back at you as you close your door.

–

It had only been a few weeks since then, study sessions were going really well. You two began to grow closer over the weeks but there still seemed to be something blocking you two from getting closer. As for the friend group, you soon met Sam and Quinn who were more than welcoming to you. You watched as Quinn would tease her brother and how embarrassed he would get when she would tell you embarrassing stories about him from when he was younger.

You had just finished up a successful study session with ethan and you two walked out the library, you pulled out the container of cookies for him and handed them to him with a smile, “Here you go kind sir.” He smiled and shook his head, “Thank you. You know you don't have to do this for me everytime.” You laugh it off, “I need to thank you somehow.”

He stood there with a contemplating look on his face. It had started to stay lighter outside later in the day so you didn't need him to walk you back to your dorm (He still did) but now he realized you two could do something else instead of just walking home. “Do you want to eat them with me?” You look at him confused, “I mean.. There a cafe down the block we can go there get some coffee or whatever and eat them together.” The look on your face must have sent the wrong message because he immediately starts to back track. “I mean if you want to i don't want to do anything you don't want to its a stupid idea anyway i'll just walk you back to-” “Ethan i'd love to.” He gulps, “Really?” You nod with a grin, “seriously. I mean i made them with browned butter this time they have to be my best batch yet.” You two began to walk side by side to the cafe, you made some small talk about if the group was hanging out tomorrow and he answered that they wanted to go to sams for dinner. When you two arrived he turned and asked if you wanted something to drink, you stared at the menu until something caught your eye and asked for that. He ordered your drink and a hot chocolate for him. He pulls out his card and pays as you insist you should, “You made the cookies let me pay.” You give him a look as you reluctantly agree.

Once you two have your drinks you two decide to sit at one of the benches outside since it was good weather out. He pulls out the container of cookies and admires them, “They do look really good.” “What did you not think they would.” You're kidding but he looks up alarmed, “i didn't mean-” “i'm kidding ethan.” you put a hand on his arm and squeeze it reassuringly.

He smiles and nods as he takes two cookies and hands one to you, “cheers?” you take it and link them together, “Cheers.”

you both took a bite and he immediately hummed, “this really is so good.” “I know.” you both laugh.

as he dunks his cookie into his hot chocolate you look at him as you think to yourself that he looks so content while eating the cookie.

“Is there a reason why you like cookies?”

he looks up at you with a shocked face, “what?” you shrug, “i mean there are so many other desserts and most people prefer other things so is there a reason? other than that they taste good of course.”

he laughs and shakes his head, “um.” He coughs before he continues, “my mom used to make cookies when i was young.” you look at him shocked he never talks about his mom. “Whenever I would do well on a test or in soccer she would make a big batch of cookies and would sit with me and eat them with me with a big glass of milk.” He laughs with a smile on his face, “whenever i would get a milk mustache she would laugh and wipe it off with the biggest smile on her face.” His voice quiets down and you can see his hands begin to shake.

“ethan.” you grab his hand and squeeze it, “i'm sorry.” he wipes his eyes with his other hand then places it on top of yours. “its okay ethan.” he shakes slightly as he begins to cry, “i miss her, so much.”

You feel like something is squeezing at you heart as you you watch him you get up from you seat and he looks up at you in shock, you move to sit next to him and wrap your arms around him, “Im so sorry ethan.” he leans into you and cries, “I'm sorry-” “you shouldn't apologize, its okay.” he sniffles as he looks up at you, “Thank you.”

–

Your feelings for Ethan grew into something more but you didn't know how to put it in words. You soon understood them when it was the beginning of may, only two more weeks until your final and you were beginning to stress out. Ethan told you not to worry and everything would go well but you couldn't help it. Even though your test scores had improved and you began to understand a lot of the material you couldn't help but worry over the class.

During one of your own personal study sessions in the library you realize you ran out of paper for your binder and needed to go get more. You were standing in the subway waiting for the train to arrive stressed out of your mind, this was the last thing you needed to happen right now and you had no clue how to calm down. Once the train arrived you walked on and realized there were no open seats, of course, great. You walk over to one of the poles but you see Ethan sitting on one of the benches. A wave of unexpected relief flows through your bones seeing him you didn't know why.

He notices you and smiles, he gestures you towards him and you realize the seat next to him is open just being covered by his bag. You smile in relief and rush over. “Thank you oh my god you're a lifesaver.” He just laughs, “It's not a problem.”

The train begins to move as he turns to you, “So what are you doing out?” You sigh and the worry begins to flood back into your body. “I was studying econ and then I ran out of paper for my binder so I have to go get some and I'm just so stressed out because I need to do well-” “Hey.” He places his hand on yours and you turn to him.

He's giving you a pleading look as he squeezes your hand, “Please relax,” You sigh, “I cant-” “Yes you can just relax, hey… um i'll come with you to go get the binder paper.” “Really?” “Yeah definitely.”

You smile at him, “Okay.” Now feeling a little more calm you look in your bag for your airpods to listen to some music but soon realize you left them at your dorm. You groan and set your back down by your feet causing Ethan to look at you alarmed, “I left my earbuds at my dorm.”

He looks down at the phone in his hair and hesitates before taking out the other airpod he wasn't wearing from his case and handing it to you, “Here you can… listen with me, if you want to I mean.” You look at his case and realize he has one of the cheetos airpod cases and laugh before looking back at him and taking it, “Thank you, cute case.”

He looks at it and shakes his head before shoving it in his bag, “Quinn got it for me.”

You put the airpod in and are immediately stunned, “Taylor swift?” He had been listening to all the girls you loved before and he suddenly looked down at his phone, “I can change it-” “No i was just shocked i like this song.”

While you sat next to him you felt a sense of peace wash over you and you relaxed for what was probably the first time this whole week. You lean against him unconsciously and feel him stiffen before he relaxes. You realize his hand is still on yours and you lace your fingers with his as you close your eyes. No you weren't tired, you just wanted to bask in his presence for a moment with his heartbeat near your ear and his breath tickling your head.

You liked him. It didn't hit you like an unexpected realization; it felt freeing to finally put what you were feeling into words. You smile to yourself and move closer to him.

It's been another week since then and you were struggling to decide if you were really going to confess at the end of the school year. You had decided since the school year is almost over and He would be going home for the summer and you wouldn't be able to see him so if you confessed and he rejected you it wouldn't be as awkward because he would leave and you two wouldnt see each other again until the new school year but the idea of him never talking to you again made you feel sick.

It was the last wednesday of the school year, the last day before your last study session with ethan which was also the last day before your econ test. There was a party, you didn't know who was throwing it but Tara practically begged you to come so here you were sitting on a couch next to anika as you two were chatting. “I told you that dress would look super cute on you.” “Thanks anika.” You looked around the room for the one person you were hoping to see, “Where's ethan?” Anika sits up and looks around before shrugging, “I have no clue.”

You begin to worry as you frantically look and can't find him, “I'm gonna go look for him.” Anika nods as you get up and begin making your way through the party.

Your about to turn a corner before you freeze at the voice you hear, “Ask her out man.” Chad. “No way i've told you this” Ethan. Who was he talking about? “C'mon man you're hot as hell just ask her out already.”

All you can hear is ethan sigh, “She doesn't-” “Oh shut up man just ask her out.” Who the hell are they talking about? Does Ethan like somebody? A pit forms in your stomach as all you can feel is dread. “Shes sitting over there man ask her out.” Now you feel sick, there's somebody Ethan likes, and it's not you. You back up and walk away. You head back to anika who has your bag and gives you an alarmed look at your upset face as you grab your bag from her side. “Is something wrong? What happened?” You shake your head as your eyes water, you attempt to say something but you can't. As she moves to stand up you rush out of the house. You can't be in there anymore, the amount of heartbreak you feel is miserable and you aren't even dating the guy.

You rush back to your dorm and lean against the door as you shut it. This is so embarrassing, here you are sitting and crying over him while he probably walked over to that person and asked them out. You managed to make it to your bed and flop on it, crying yourself to sleep.

–

“Have you guys seen y/n?'' Anika had come up to them frantically as Chad and Ethan remained talking against the wall. Chad had been begging Ethan to finally ask you out all night but Ethan kept on refusing. He couldn't risk what you two have especially since it meant so much to him. What had started out as a simple infatuation had turned into so much more, you meant so much to him and to lose you would be horrid.

“No? Is something wrong? Thought she was sitting with you.” Chad took a sip of his drink after he answered, “She went to go looking for e, then she came back and looked like she was about to cry then she ran out.” ethan felt sick, had some guy said something to you? “Like she ran out of the house? Shit.” Chad put down his drink and turned towards ethan, “You gotta go look for her man.” “Please e? Im really worried.” Ethan put down his drink and walked away before they could say anything else. “I'm gonna ask around.” “Me too.”

Shit. you weren't answering your phone, “please answer please” he was mumbling and shaking his phone as if that could make you answer. He decided to just fuck it and run to your dorm to see if you were there. He knew the route like the back of his hand and he was booking it full speed. He was worried about you and was praying you were alright. Once he got to your dorm he pounded at the door, he knew you had a solo room luckily since your roommate transferred out in the beginning of the second semester and no one came to fill it. He calls you names to no answer, after a couple of minutes he's defeated and texts you if you're still at the party when the door opens and he quickly looks up at you.

–

Who the hell is pounding at your door? You don't know how long you've been asleep, it couldn't have been that long since it was still dark out. Annoyed and not wanting to talk to anybody, you attempt to block out the noise until you hear his voice. Ethan.

He was here and calling for you. you sat up quickly and walked towards the door before you stopped hesitantly in front of the door. What did he want? You didn't want to answer, just ignore him and move on but he sounded worried so you opened him. His face was red and his eyes were watery, he was breathing heavily, looked like he was out of breath, did he run all the way here? Seeing you he let out a sigh of relief. ‘Ethan-” “Are you alright?” You look at him alarmed. “Yeah um did something happen?”

It's awkward to look at or to talk to him but he can't seem to notice that right now, “Anika was worried she said you ran out looking upset.” Now you feel embarrassed, looking down at your feet, “Did somebody say something to you? Did something happen?-” You couldn't listen to him anymore, all you wanted to do is blurt it out but knowing it would ruin everything you can't, maybe you should just do it. You open your mouth but you quickly close it. You need to have him tutor you tomorrow. The day before the big test. You need him just for one more day. then you can set him free. “Im… im okay i promise, i'm sorry for worrying you, all of you.” You think over your next words carefully so as to not let the things you truly want to say split out. “I just was getting overwhelmed, parties are so loud you know?” You try to laugh but at the look on his face you stop and look down.

He walks closer and tries to grab your hands but you pull them away and try to smile at him, “Im really tired.” He now looks like he's about to cry, “Please be honest with me, did something happen? Is somebody bothering you?” Yes. “No, i promise.” What a liar. He looks like he wants to say more but if he really does he keeps his mouth shut and nods.

“We still on for tomorrow?” You hate yourself for asking but you need to make sure you haven't ruined anything. He looks at you confused, “Of course?” You nod and move towards your door, “Do you need anything I'm here-” “No really, it's okay Goodnight.” You don't wait for his response as you shut the door, the tears at their breaking point as you lean your head against the door. Why can't this just be easier?

–

He stares at the place you were once standing with a sad look on his face. You were lying, he could tell that easily but about what? He stands there and contemplates over it, maybe something did happen or maybe it.. Was something he did? No that couldn't be right, you two were acting perfectly normal this morning. But why were you acting like that with him now? You were never that stiff, you shut him out. It was weird and he didn't like it at all, he felt the urge to knock on the door again and comfort you, bring you into his arms so you can talk all out but he knows that that's not what you must want so he leaves.

He lets Chad know he won't be showing back up to the party and that you're fine. He hopes that when he goes to bed this will all be just a bad dream and tomorrow when he arrives at your study session everything will be just fine.

—

It is not just fine. It started off simple. You didn't text him in the morning like you always did. You arrive five minutes late which is odd since you're always the one that arrives first, you give the excuse you slept in late. He doesn't believe you but keeps his mouth shut. Worst of all you didn't make him any cookies this time. It became a habit, after every session you would give him a container of cookies (and a side one specifically for chad since he liked them so much) as a thank you. The session is awkward and very to the point, when he tries to joke with you like usual you brush him off and ask him to move on to the next topic. He felt awful, he asked you if something was wrong but you just said it was nothing. You had even wrapped up the session early, it was barely hitting four when you called it.

“Im just tired.” You pack up your things and give him a brief goodbye and rush to leave. He watches you go before he realizes he needs to do something, he cant let your relationship deteriorate like this. He runs after you and grabs your arm as you're standing outside.

“Ethan-” “I like you.” You look frozen as you stare at him, “I'm sorry if I did something wrong but I just want to get back to the way we were and I need you to know this now. You can forget about it-” “Ethan”

You try to interrupt him like you always do but he stops you, “Please.” His expression softens, “I need to do this.” You hesitate before you nod, he takes both of your hands in his as if he's afraid you're going to run away. “You can forget all about this if you want to but just know i like you so much and i hate this strain between us, whatever it is. Please tell me what i've done wrong so i can fix it and we can move on and you can make me more of your cookies and you can crack dumb econ jokes about the topics we're talking about or you can complain about your shift at work with tara and how she can never restock properly. Please tell me what i did wrong.” hes begging you, squeezing your hands so tightly, as he locks eyes with you, all you can feel is sincerity and love.

“Then who was the girl?” You ask as your voice wavers, he looks at you shocked, “What girl?” Your eyes water too, “I overheard you at the party.” He tilts his head confused, “What?” “At the party, when Chad was encouraging you to go ask the girl out.” He relaxes and gulps. “I was going to come find you, then I heard you and I just felt like shit because I was..” You trail off as he looks at you expectantly, “I was going to tell you that I like you.” His eyes widened and his mouth opened in shock, “Not that day of course tomorrow after the econ test.” “I was talking about you.” You shake your head, “Chad said she was sitting right there. I was sitting there.” He shakes his head, “no no no no no we couldn't see the couch from where we were standing so he was just pointing in the direction of the couch i swear i had thought you were there. I was talking about you. I only have eyes for you, for as long as I've known you it's always been you.”

You can only look at him in shock at the sincerity of his words and you move closer to him. You rip your hands from his and he has a really apologetic look on his face, as he's about to apologize you pull his face to meet yours and you kiss. It feels like your heart is about to burst out of your chest as you feel love and relief as he kisses you back. He grabs your face and pulls you closer if that's even possible. You pull apart, breathing heavy as you two stare lovingly at each other with a smile. “I'm sorry ethan.” He shakes his head and gives you another kiss before answering. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

You smile at him, “soo…?” You're looking at him expectantly as he looks confused, “So?’ you scoff and shove him, “You're really bad at this.” Now he looks really confused, “Ugh. Ethan, will you be my boyfriend?” Now his eyes widen as he opens and closes his mouth like a fish. You laugh as you look at his red face. After a minute he manages to calm down, “Yes, I would love to be your boyfriend.” You two smile at kisses. You finally feel like you can breathe, this was perfect.

–

The next day you're in a large room writing in the last answer to the econ test. Ethan had finished earlier than you, that morning he promised to wait for you outside so once you hand it your test you rush out to see him and the rest of your friends. You see him and he turns to you and smiles as you make it to him he picks you up and twirls you around as you laugh. “So??? How did you do?!” Anika asks you with a big smile on her face. You keep your eyes locked on Ethan and his grinning face. “I think I did great, all thanks to my wonderful tutor.”

He shakes his head, “No, it was all you, beautiful.” You two kiss.

a/n: I hope you guys like this !!

tags: @bajadotcom

#ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #scream six #scream vi #scream

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