#and its also like childhood friends to strangers to friends to lovers

[simmysunset]

check the tags for a lil more info about it lolz

[asahicore]

stupid in love - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. best friend!sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis. One night early on in your summer vacation, your best friend Sunghoon admits that his biggest anxiety about starting college is going there as a virgin - one thing leads to another, and you end up learning a few things from each other. The more time passes, the more obvious it becomes that your feelings for each other surpass friendship, but with the end of summer looming over your heads, it's hard to tell where these newfound emotions will lead you.

genre. best friends/childhood friends 2 lovers, summer au, lots of fluff and smut but also some angst to spice things up, when i say smut i mean LOTS of smut. like mostly smut lol (mutual first time, ice play, crazy stuff)

word count. 22.1k

a/n. bringing this one back from the pits of my google docs guys.. its been so long since i've posted anything and im not sure when the new hoon fic will be ready so i thought i'd repost an og asahicore fic!!! the title was originally 'hot like ice' but i changed it bc this is my blog and i do what i want <3 i'd also like to say that in terms of plot this is probably not something i would write nowadays, it's very smut-heavy and thats not what im about now idk i was crazy back then... but i rmb being happy w this fic and its reception when i first posted it so i'm happy to have it back on my blog and hope u guys will like it too <3 as always lmk what u think!!

It all started with a lollipop. Well, two, to be exact. One strawberry-flavored, one apple-flavored. 

You stand in front of your friend, lollipops in hand. “Which one do you want, Hoon?” 

“I don’t mind, just pick whichever one you like best,” he replies absent-mindedly, eyes on the TV as he tries to find a suitable movie for this late summer afternoon.

You plop down on the couch next to him and look at the two lollipops in your hands, unable to decide which flavor you like better. “I don’t know what I feel like right now,” you announce to an uninterested Sunghoon. “I’ll just try both.”

That seems to catch your best friend’s attention. He watches as you unwrap both candies, tasting each once, twice, then as you decide you want the apple-flavored lollipop and hand him the strawberry-flavored one. He doesn’t take his eyes off of your lips as you wrap them and swirl your tongue around the candy, letting its sweetness wash over your taste buds. You raise your eyebrows when you notice his staring and he blinks a couple times, trying to snap himself out of it. “Did you want the other one?” you ask, confused by his behavior.

“N-no, I like strawberry,” he stammers, turning his gaze back to the screen in front of you and settling for ‘When Harry Met Sally,’ a movie you’ve both seen a thousand times but never get bored of.

You’re used to Sunghoon getting lost in his thoughts, so you don’t question it much. You sit back on the couch, your knee touching his. You two are no strangers to a little skinship - after being friends for almost eight years, physical contact comes naturally. You have to admit that recently, it’s started to feel different; but the idea of your friendship changing tugs at your heartstrings so much that you ignore the prickles on your skin when he hugs you or the way your stomach flips when he smiles at you, dimples and sharp canines on display. You tell yourself it’s all stupid and that you can handle so much as your knees touching.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, can't. The lollipop in his mouth right now was in yours mere moments ago and you’d given it to him like sharing saliva was no big deal. He feels like a thirteen year-old for thinking like this, but this was pretty much an indirect kiss.

He stares at the TV screen, but all he can see are your perfect lips sucking that lollipop, and his mind is desperately not trying to go there, but he just cannot help himself. Blood rushes to his dick as he pictures your mouth around him, sucking him off with as much enthusiasm as you are the lollipop. Would you like his taste? Would you look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, smiling even with his dick stuffed in your mouth?

His own thoughts catch him off guard, and before they can get any wilder, he runs off to the bathroom, knowing he’d never live it down if you caught a glimpse of his erection. Thankfully, you don’t, and you call after him, asking if he wants you to pause the movie, to which he shouts back a strangled ‘no.’

He comes back ten minutes later, face flushed and breath heavy. “Goddamn, Hoon, I know we’re best friends, but if you’re going to dump a massive load, I wished you did it in your own bathroom and not mine,” you tease him, laughing as his face gets even redder and he opens his mouth to protest.

“I was just on my phone!” he replies, mildly offended.

“Whatever,” you say, still laughing, and turn your attention back to the movie.

Well. Sunghoon would rather have you think he just took a huge shit than have you know he came to the idea of you sucking him off and swallowing every last drop of his cum. 

--

A few days later, you and Sunghoon are lying on his bed, the both of you on your backs, talking about this and that as you often do. It’s almost 3 a.m., and it feels almost rebellious, being up this late after months of waking up at 6, but your high school graduation was a week ago and you feel like you can do anything. The dim fairy lights you forced him to put up and the bright moon outside are the only sources of light in the room, and when you turn to look at him, you can just make out the outline of his face, the curve of his nose, the sharpness of his jaw. You've looked at him a thousand times before, so your memory makes up for what the light takes away from your eyes. You shift to lying on your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows so you can take a better look at your friend. Something about the moonlight makes him look ethereal, and his beauty makes your heart skip a beat, but you’d never admit that to him. Out of habit, you reach out to touch his moles, gently placing your middle finger on his nose and your pointer finger on his cheek. Sunghoon closes his eyes at your touch, used to the warm feeling that settles in his stomach whenever you do that.

“Y/N?” he calls out, just as you pull your fingers away from his moles.

“Yeah?”

He opens his eyes again, meeting yours. “Is there anything you’re scared of for next year? You know, heading off to college and all that?” You shift again and lie on your back, the sides of your two bodies touching. You stare at the ceiling for a while, thinking about his question, and Sunghoon patiently waits for your answer.

“I’m scared about not making friends. I’m not the least outgoing person ever, but it’s so intimidating, not knowing anyone. And it’ll be weird not having you around. Shut up,” you warn before he can make an egotistical remark, so he just chuckles. “I’m also worried about the amount of work I’ll have. I’ve heard so many times that it’s a huge step-up from high school, the workload and the type of work and all that. What if I don’t even like the degree that I chose? I know I can change it, but it still stresses me out. Turning 18 doesn’t feel like a huge deal, but going to college does. It’s when all the responsibility hits. My mom told me to make my own doctor’s appointment the other day, and I almost cried when I had to call them. I’m not gonna have anyone to do my groceries for me. I’m scared I might get an awful roommate. I hate the idea of communal showers. I don’t even know what I want to do after college, and I know I have four years to make up my mind, but I’m scared those four years are gonna flash by and I’ll be indebted and unemployed by the end of it.” You pause to take a breath, and you can feel Sunghoon’s eyes on the sides of your face, but he doesn’t say anything. “Also, I heard that you put on a lot of weight during your freshman year.”

You turn to look at him to find him smiling at you. “Wow. That’s a lot.”

The two of you giggle, eyes not leaving the other’s. After a moment, you turn your gaze back to the ceiling and sigh. “Yeah, I know. But I’m more excited than I am scared. What about you?”

Sunghoon follows your gaze and looks up above him. He doesn’t say anything for a while, and when he finally speaks up, he says it so quietly, you almost don’t hear it. “I’m scared of going to college a virgin.”

You try to stay serious for a few seconds, but you can’t keep your laughter in and snort loudly at your friend’s words, laughing so hard your stomach starts to hurt.

“Don’t make fun of me!” he whines, hands coming up to cover his face.

It takes you a while to calm down; not only was Sunghoon’s statement ridiculous, it was so unexpected that you couldn’t stop laughing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you apologize, catching your breath. “I just can’t believe that that’s what you’re scared of, of all things.”

“What? It’s a perfectly reasonable concern,” he defends himself.

“Nobody’s gonna care if you’re a virgin, Hoon,” you try to reason with him, but if there is one thing your best friend is, it’s stubborn.

“I’m gonna care! What if I like a girl but I can’t bring myself to make a move on her ‘cause I have no experience?”

“But Hoon, chances are she doesn’t have a lot more experience than you do! She’ll be the same age we are, dummy. We’re not sixteen year-olds jumping into a world of twenty year-olds. Sure, some people have their first time in high school, but a lot do it at university. You’ll be fine,” you reassure. His furrowed eyebrows and pout tell you he’s not fully convinced, though.

“Oh, c’mon! If you really want to lose your virginity before leaving, we can get you laid during the summer. I’m sure we can find a girl nice enough,” you tease, jokingly patting his bicep, trying not to make a note of how firm the skin feels under your hand.

Sunghoon sighs, and you can tell he’s actually taking this seriously. “I’m not that desperate that I’d have sex with the first girl that agrees, you know. I’d still rather do it with someone…” He glances at you for just a second. “Someone I trust.”

You feel your face heat up at the possible meaning behind his words, so you look away, not wanting him to see the effect they had on you. He changes his position on the bed, and now it’s his turn to prop himself up on his elbows and look down at you.

“What about you, Y/N? Don’t you think it’d be good to get a bit of experience before going off to college? It’ll be one less thing to stress about,” he says, a small smirk playing on his lips, and his shy demeanor from moments prior is completely gone. Out of fear that his ego would get even bigger, you'd never tell him, but you love it when he gets like that - when he thinks he’s the shit and teases you mercilessly. You know he does it lightheartedly, and it never fails to bring a smile to your face.

Except right now it does. You’re not smiling, far from it; you’re looking up at your best friend, mouth slightly agape and wide eyes searching for a sign that he may be just joking. He raises an eyebrow expectantly, and your reaction is to scoff at him. 

“Do I need to remind you that you’re the reason I have no experience to begin with, Park Sunghoon?” you ask, sitting up on the bed to peer down at him. He shifts again and lays on his back, his hands coming up behind his head as he beams at you.

“Am I really?”

You wish you could slap that shit-eating grin off of his face. This is not the first time you're having this conversation. “Yes, Hoon. Every time a guy was even remotely interested in me, you chased them away. I’m still not over you telling Kang Taehyun I have smelly feet! I had a huge crush on that guy!”

Sunghoon loudly laughs at the memory, and you curse yourself for cracking a smile when you see his face scrunched in laughter. “That was in Year 5, Y/N! It’s been years!”

You grab a pillow and throw it at his head, unable to not laugh along with him. “What about Bang Yedam, then? That was only last year, and you totally ruined my chances with him!”

“Listen, if you having a creepy doll collection is enough to make him not ask you out, then he must not have liked you that much.”

“But I don’t have a creepy doll collection! That’s the whole point!” you say, on the brink of desperation. You sigh at your friend who’s still catching his breath from laughing so much. “You’re just lucky they didn’t repeat your bullshit to anyone. I would’ve had such a weird reputation otherwise.”

“Of course they didn’t. I told them I’d kill them if they did,” he stated matter-of-factly, as if that was a normal and appropriate thing to do.

“Couldn’t you have threatened them that way so they wouldn’t ask me out instead of lying to them about me?”

Sunghoon stares at you for a few seconds, eyes seemingly empty of thought. “Huh. Yeah, I guess I could’ve done that.”

“Ugh,” you groan, and plop down on the bed next to him. Neither of you says anything for some time, until you break the silence again. “You know you even stole my first kiss, Hoon,” you speak softly.

“I know,” he says, voice just as quiet as yours. “You never shut up about it.”

“Why would I? I was about to kiss Lee Heeseung, of all people, the boy everybody, including me, had a crush on, but no, someone had to get between us and kiss me in his stead,” you grumble, giving your friend a harsh side-eye.

Sunghoon sighs and shakes his head as if you’re being irrational. “I don’t get why you’re so hung-up on that. Why would you want your first kiss to be because of a middle-school party dare rather than have it with your best friend, whom you know and trust?”

“It was Lee Heeseung, for God’s sake!”

“And I’m Park Sunghoon!”

Still both laying on your backs, you turn your heads to look at each other. There’s something in his eyes you’ve never seen before that you can’t quite put your finger on. The person in front of you is one you’ve known for years now and yet the look in his eyes is of such unfamiliar intensity that it makes your stomach flip. You inhale sharply when his eyes drift down to your lips, and you can’t help but mirror his actions. The atmosphere has flipped like a light switch; it was playful just mere seconds ago, the sound of your usual banter filling up the room. All of a sudden, there’s something heavy dancing in the air around you, and it makes your heart skip a bit faster and your breath a bit shallower.

Your voice is barely above a whisper when you say his name.

“Yeah?” His eyes snap back up to yours, but you're still stuck on his lips. Have they always looked so kissable?

“Why did you do that? Why did you push those boys away from me?” you ask, even though you’ve asked this question a thousand times before. You want to hear his answer again.

“I’ve already told you. You deserved better than them.” Whenever you ask him about it, Sunghoon always stops here, and you never push. But there are unspoken words left hanging that you’re dying to hear.

“Who, then? Who’d be better than them?”

He's quiet for a second. “It’s a secret,” he whispers finally, a small smirk teasing his lips, and you roll your eyes at him. But then your eyes meet again and your breath hitches. You shift to your side so you can face him more fully, and he mirrors your actions. 

It’s his turn to say your name. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you kissed anyone since?” he asks, coming off shyer than he’d intended to.

You giggle and smack his shoulder lightly. “Why do you wanna know?”

He snickers too and, to your surprise, stops your fist from hitting him a second time, enveloping his larger hand around yours and laying it between the two of you on the bed. “Cause I should know that sorta thing. Also, if you did kiss someone since then, and I didn’t know about it, I'd be upset.”

“Why would you be mad?” you say, still giggling, trying to ignore the way your heartbeat quickens when he threads your fingers with his.

“Because you wouldn’t have told me!”

“Well…”

“No way, Y/N,” he practically shouts, already feeling betrayed, his free hand coming up to grip his heart in fake shock.

“Let me at least finish first,” you protest. He obliges, although he doesn't look very happy about it. “You know that summer 2 years ago I went away to camp?”

“Yeah, worst summer ever.”

“Well, I did sort of… get with someone, that summer,” you say, avoiding Sunghoon’s wide eyes as he gasps loudly.

“What? Who with? How come you didn't tell me?” he exclaims, letting go of your hand. He sits up on the bed and crosses his arms over his chest like an annoyed child. 

“Because of this exactly.”

“What’s this?”

“Your reaction right now!” you say, sitting up as well, both of your knees grazing his. The simple touch sends a shiver down your spine that you can only hope he takes no notice of.

“Wouldn’t you be a bit upset if I told you I ‘got with’,” he air-quotes, “a random girl two years ago?”

“No? Especially not if it was two years ago?”

You both look just as confused as the other, obviously not on the same wavelength. He furrows his eyebrows and glares at you. “Well, I am.”

You throw your head back in laughter and place your hands on his knees, but when you come forward again, you overestimate the distance between the both of you and find yourself mere inches from his face. The laughter immediately dies in your throat, and you feel it go dry when your stunned reaction elicits a smirk from him. You don’t know how long you stare into his eyes, all you know is you snap out of it when his gaze drifts down to your lips once more. You’re closer now than you were before, and having him so close makes your mind spin with all the possible outcomes of such proximity. You lean back on the bed, pulling away your hands from his knees to hold yourself up on them.

“There’s no reason to,” you say, hoping that breaking the silence will dissipate some of the tension in the air. You keep going back and forth between familiar and dangerous and you don’t know how long you’ll be able to handle that atmosphere. “It’s not like anything grand happened. We made out a bit and held hands. We never spoke after that summer, otherwise you’d have known about it.” 

Sunghoon lets out a low hum. His eyes are still trained on yours, and you wished he’d look away because you can’t seem to do it yourself. He still doesn’t say anything, so you speak up again. “You say that like you’ve never had girlfriends, by the way. Surely you’ve done more than just kissing.” Silence again, and you can’t decipher the look he’s giving you. “So, I don’t know what you’re so scared about, because it’s not like you have zero experience. I’m sure the girls at uni will love you, Hoon.”

He sighs and finally tears his eyes away from yours, and you’re not sure if you’re seeing things because of how dark and late it is or if there’s an actual blush creeping on his cheeks. “Sure, I’ve had a couple girlfriends, but you know they’ve never lasted long,” he says, looking down at his lap. “We made out… I guess I-” he gives you a quick glance, “I’ve touched their boobs and they’ve touched my… you know…”

You can’t help but giggle at how shy your friend is suddenly being. “Can’t even say the word ‘penis’, Hoon?,” you tease, and his eyes snap back up at yours.

“Of course I can. Penis! There.” You look at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter, Sunghoon hushing you so you don’t wake up his parents, but his hushes are louder than your laugh. After a couple minutes, you calm down and wipe your tears away, grateful for the break in the tension between you and Sunghoon.

“Anyway, yeah, I guess I don’t have that much experience. Which is why I brought it up in the first place.” And just as quickly as it’d left, the tension is back again.

You look around the room because the weight of Sunghoon’s gaze on your face is unbearable. You release a shaky breath when you feel his gentle hand on your knee, and your eyes drift to it, but you can’t get yourself to look him straight in the eyes. 

“Don’t you think it’d be good to get experience before leaving for college, Y/N?” he asks, and you can tell he’s trying to sound confident, but his voice comes out breathier and shakier than he must intend it to.

“I don’t know… I don’t think it’s necessary,” you say, eyes still trained on his hand resting on your knee. He squeezes it a bit, making you finally look up at him. Is it just you, or did the room get hotter all of a sudden?

“Not everything you do has to be out of necessity, you know.”

The both of you stare at each other for a few moments. This shift in your relationship was bound to happen; you’d been feeling it more and more recently. You didn’t use to think twice about Sunghoon taking your hand in his, nor did you feel those stupid butterflies eating away at your stomach every time his gaze lingered for a second too long. You’d tried to reason with yourself that it was just teenage hormones doing their stupid job, and that you were doomed to feel some kind of attraction for your extremely handsome best friend at some point in your life, but that if you ignored it hard and long enough it would go away.

Well, now that Sunghoon’s lips are barely inches away from yours and your skin is on fire under his hand, it definitely isn’t going away.

“What would you do if I kissed you?” Sunghoon asks, eyes fluttering down to your lips. You think he’s looked at your lips more than the rest of your face in the past hour.

“I’d slap you,” you lie, gaze mirroring his.

“Would you really?” he says, and your hesitation makes him smirk slightly.

“No,” you breathe out, and it’s the answer he’s been waiting for, the answer he needs to finally press his soft lips against yours. 

You don’t even have the time to savor the moment, though, because the warmth of his lips is gone as quickly as it came. He pulls back, a surprised look in his eyes, as if he can’t believe what he just did. The tension above you breaks and rains down on you like small pieces of confetti that settle comfortably on your head and shoulders. There’s a knot in your stomach but instead of twisting your insides in nervousness, it feels warm and makes you giddy for what’s to come next. Sunghoon’s surprised expression transforms into a grin at the sound of your laughter, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you.

You scooch closer to him, and his other hand comes to rest on your second knee. You can tell he’s not going to do much more, so you lean in bit by bit, and peck him softly on the lips. You both giggle again and you blame the fact that you want to feel his lips on yours again on the late hour of the night. You peck his lips once, twice more, giggling inbetween, but when you peck them a third time, he doesn’t let you pull away and keeps his lips on yours. The sudden added strength takes you aback, but it doesn’t take you long to yield to his touch and kiss him back. 

Sunghoon moves his lips slowly against yours and it’s surprisingly easy to fall into his rhythm. You don’t have the most experience with kissing, but something about doing it with your best friend reassures you and your whole body relaxes as you focus on the feeling of his lips moving in cadence with yours. The knot in your stomach stays there and tightens when his hands ride up your thighs and settle on your hips, holding you snugly there. You’re only wearing shorts and his palms against your bare skin make you release a shaky breath in Sunghoon’s mouth. You pull back for a bit, surprised at your own reaction, but nothing has prepared you for the way your best friend looks at you.

His pupils are dilated, dark; his glossed-over eyes bore right into yours. Your breath was already shallow from the kiss, but it’s his gaze that renders you completely breathless. Sunghoon tightens his grip on your hips and leans in for more, but you put a hand on his chest to stop him, making his eyes snap back into focus.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I don’t know what took over me. Are you okay?” he asks, as short of breath as you are, but worry laced in his voice.

“No- Yes- I mean, yes, I’m fine, everything’s fine, I just-” you shake your head, trying to gather your thoughts. “I’m just…”

“Tell me. You can tell me,” he says, rubbing gentle circles into your hips with his thumb, and the unfamiliar yet intimate gesture makes it even harder to concentrate. 

“We- we’re best friends, right?” you ask, voice trembling, You ask, even though you know the answer, just because you’re afraid the line the two of you have just crossed is already miles behind you, and you won’t be able to retrace your steps.

“Yeah, of course we are,” Sunghoon reassures, head tilting to the side in confusion. 

“And best friends… Do they… Well, it’s normal for best friends to kiss, right?” you say, trying to calm the overpowering urge to kiss him again.

Sunghoon chuckles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t know about that, Y/N.”

“Oh,” you breathe.

Sunghoon quickly catches on to your hesitation. “But who cares about what best friends usually do and don’t do?” he says, holding your face between his hands to make you look up at him. “I liked kissing you, just now. I really, really liked it,” he admits, red dusting his cheeks. “Did you?”

You nod, too shy to put just how much you enjoyed kissing Sunghoon into words. “Do you want to do it again?” he asks and chuckles when you nod again, eyes already on his lips. This time, you don’t stop him when he leans in and let him press his lips to yours again. His words have reassured you and you sigh into his mouth, making him smile into the kiss. 

His hands ride up a bit and settle on your waist, bringing you a bit closer to him, and you circle your arms around his neck. The shyness of the first kiss is completely gone, and you’re both gaining more and more confidence, letting everything go and focusing solely on where your bodies meet. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and you push your body onto his, a sudden need to feel him against you, to feel his strong arms encaging you. 

You pull away at the same time to catch your breaths, smiling at each other when you see how lustful the other’s expression is. Sunghoon’s eyes have glossed over once more, and you’re sure yours have too. “C’mere,” he whispers, beckoning you to him. You climb onto his lap, one knee on each side of his hips. “Is this okay?” he asks, but you don’t answer, you just lean in and kiss him again, holding his face in your hand as his hands roam your back over the thin fabric of your t-shirt. Your kisses are curious, the both of you trying to figure out what feels best as you tilt your heads from one side to the other and let your inquisitive hands travel each other’s bodies. Yours find purchase in his hair, and you revel in the sighs that escape his lips whenever you pull and tug at the strands. 

As the kiss gets hungrier and needier, his hands fall down to your lower back, and then to your ass. He just cups it for a while, but after a few moments, grabs it harder and brings you close to him, making your core rub against  the hardness that had been building in his sweatpants for a while now. The friction is unexpected and you can’t help the loud moan leaving your lips at the feeling. It’s a feeling you know from your own hand in the privacy of your dark room, but Sunghoon making you feel that way is so foreign that it snaps you out of the daze you’re in. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, was that too much?” Sunghoon scrambles for words, but you’re already pulling away, and he doesn’t know what to do to keep you close.

You sit back on the bed, holding your knees close to your chest. You look at your best friend in front of you who’s looking at you with a worried expression. Something in you craves to reach a hand out to him, to feel his cheeks and jawline under your palms again, to find out if he’d shiver at your touch and if goosebumps would form on his skin. He’s been your best friend for eight years, and you’ve always thought you knew everything about him, the same way he’s supposed to know everything about you. But you realize in this moment that there are things you don’t yet know, melodies to be discovered, treasures to be unearthed. Your fingertips are burning to find them all. 

The sound of your name resonates inside your mind and it takes you everything not to fall back on him again. You furrow your eyebrows, confused by all those things you’re feeling. What was it that just took over you, that lit your insides up so?

You straighten your back suddenly and take in your surroundings. Sunghoon’s room is still the same old room you’ve always known, the same blue walls, the same posters he only ever changes when he finds a new interest and lets go of an old one. The same pictures from when you were 10, 12, 15, recent ones now that you’re 18; the same figure skating trophies and medals on his shelves. You turn to look at your best friend. The same soft, round cheeks contrasted by a sharp jaw; the same almond eyes, round with worry at your sudden movement away from him; the same two moles you’ve always found so comforting, for some reason. You almost reach out to touch them, to give you some sense of balance, to reassure you that things aren’t changing as much as it feels like they are. But you’re scared electricity might fry your fingers if you touch him right now. You’re scared you won’t be able to take your fingers off of him, no matter how much it stings. His face is the same as always before, but there’s something else to it, something you could probably figure out if you spent more than three seconds thinking about it, but you’re not sure you want to figure it out.

“Is everything okay? Did- Did I do something wrong?” he asks, voice laced with concern. 

Before he can put a reassuring hand on your knee, you get off of the bed, and hurriedly say, “No. I just- I think I should go home.” You look everywhere but at him.

He sits up at your words, concern turned into confusion. “It’s 3 a.m., Y/N, why do you want to go home all of a sudden? You’ve stayed over plenty of times before.”

“I know, I just…” you trail off, trying to come up with an excuse. “I’ve got cramps. I think my period’s coming,” you lie. It’s better than whatever truth is threatening to bubble up.

“Oh. Right.” He scooches a bit, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Is there anything- like- can I do anything?” He sighs, steadies himself. “You don’t have to go, is what I’m trying to say.”

A few months ago, when you had finally wrapped your head around the fact that your best friend was an attractive man and that he made you feel things friends weren’t supposed to make you feel, you’d told yourself it was all just a phase that would pass soon. But feelings this strong surely cannot go away that easily.

You take a deep breath in and tear your eyes away from him. “I think I should go home,” you repeat. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Hoon.”

You turn around and start walking away, but Sunghoon is quick on his feet and stops you from going out the door. “Do you actually have cramps? Or are you just scared that our friendship might change?” He sounds out of breath, like asking this question is taking him all of his energy.

You avert his gaze and try to push past him, but he’s much stronger than you. Puberty sure played its trick on him. You sigh and look down at your feet. “I’m tired, Hoon, let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

But if there is one thing your best friend is, it’s stubborn. “I don’t wanna talk about it tomorrow. I wanna talk about it now. Did it feel nice?” he asks, and his resolute tone of voice makes you look up at him.

“I- I mean-”

“Y/N,” he starts, wrapping his arms around you and leaning in a bit, his familiar scent filling your nostrils. You have to close your eyes. “Answer me. Did it feel good?”

“Yes,” you answer without thinking. 

“Is that why you’re scared?”

“Yes.” Your eyes flutter open when you feel his fingers graze your cheek. He leans in again and traps your kiss in a much softer and intimate kiss that makes your head spin and your thoughts cloud. Before you can get carried away, you pull away again, and ignore how beautiful he looks when his eyes stay closed for a couple of seconds longer. He only opens them once you tell him once again you should go home, that you need some time to think.

“Let me at least walk you there. It’s dark,” he pleads, his grip on your waist still tight.

“Hoon, I live right next door, I’ll be fine.” You let him kiss you once more and he makes you promise to call or text him tomorrow.

When you leave, Sunghoon plops back down on his bed, arm resting on his forehead as he plays back the events of the night. Had he done something wrong? Something that made you want to get as far away from him as quickly as possible? He’d tried to be gentle and to make sure you were okay with everything, but he couldn’t help but get carried away when he heard those sweet sighs of yours. He thought he was going to combust when he heard you moan, and he wanted to hear it over and over again, but you’d jumped from him like he’d told you he had killed someone.

He hopes you were telling the truth when you said you were just scared about your friendship changing. He hadn’t wanted to push and get you to stay; he knew it was weird, seeing each other in a different light all at once. He wasn’t completely oblivious; he’d felt that same shift in your relationship those past few months, just like you had, although you’d never spoken about it to each other. He knew he could never go back to seeing you as just a friend when he’d jerked off one day and you were all he could think of. He kept imagining the sounds you’d make and the way your hands would feel on him, and he’d gotten so close to getting that today, but he must’ve fucked something up and now his chances were ruined. He curses himself for letting you slip through his fingers just when he thought he finally had you.

You don’t get a wink of sleep that night. Your mind is reeling with everything that happened in Sunghoon’s room. Your fingers unconsciously keep coming up to touch your lips and feel the ghost of his touch there. Your skin turns hot at the simple thought of how perfect his lips had felt against yours, and you toss and turn in your bed as you consider what might’ve been, had you stayed with Sunghoon. 

But it’s all happening too quickly, and even though you’ve been curious in more ways than one about your best friend for the past few months, you hadn’t expected to kiss him and to enjoy it so much on a random summer night. Your thoughts only seem to calm down and your eyes finally close just as the sun starts to rise.

--

The next day, Sunghoon wakes up in the early hours of the afternoon and checks his phone right away. A couple of notifications, but nothing from you. A text from Jake in their group chat with Jay asking to hang out at Sunghoon’s pool, to which he replies that they can come whenever. He taps a quick one out in the shower, memories of your scent and your lips on his getting him to finish quicker than he’d like to admit. He’s in the middle of a late breakfast when Jake and Jay spawn at his door, swimming trunks already on. Still nothing from you.

It doesn’t take Jay and Jake long to figure out that something is up with their best friend. It’s not like he does much usually, but today especially, he makes no effort to entertain them. He laughs at their jokes, but it feels like he laughs because he hears other people laughing rather than because he genuinely finds them funny. He barely even reacts when the inflatable pool ball hits him right in the face.

His friends don’t say anything until they’re all seated at a table by the pool, sipping on some ice-cold Coke. The air is still warm but the sun is low in the sky, hidden behind the house. Sunghoon is still lost in his thoughts, unblinking eyes fixed on a random point in the distance. Jay and Jake exchange a look before the former breaks the silence.

“Is everything alright, Hoon? You look out of it today.”

Jay’s voice brings him back to the here and now, and his eyes jump back and forth between his two friends who are looking at him expectantly. “Huh? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just tired. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” he says, leaving some of the truth out, but his friends know him better than he gives them credit for.

“Are you sure? I feel like there’s something you’re not telling us. You usually act like a little bitch when you’re tired, you don’t get all…,” Jake shakes his hand in front of his face, “distant like that.”

Sunghoon bites his lip, debating whether he should tell his friends about you or not. No matter how stupid they may be, they also know both of you quite well, so they might prove not completely useless, he thinks.

“Y/N and I kissed last night.”

It’s almost comical, how Jay and Jake bring their head forward in astonishment, how wide their mouth gets, how their eyes look like they might pop out of their sockets, and how they say “You what?!” at the same time. On a normal day, Sunghoon would've laughed.

“We kissed,” Sunghoon repeats, eyes drifting down to the ground in front of him as he rubs his neck in embarrassment.

“Fucking finally!” Jay exclaims.

“Told you it was gonna happen. No way you two were going to stay just besties forever,” Jake teases, punching Sunghoon in the arm. “How was it?”

Sunghoon sighs and leans back in his chair, letting his head hang back. “Really fucking amazing,” he chuckles. His friends holler for him, snickering like 12-year old boys who just saw a hot girl walk past. 

“God, I saw this coming from miles away. I don’t know why you kept on insisting nothing was gonna happen between you two,” Jake says, beaming.

“I really didn’t think anything would… I just… Started seeing her differently recently, I guess.” Sunghoon shrugs, sheepishly smiling to himself.

“So, what happened? Did you guys just kiss or…?” Jay asks, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Jake giggles at the insinuation of sex but has a curious glint in his eyes when he waits for Sunghoon’s answer.

“Yeah, um, we just kissed cause she- she sort of ran away?” Sunghoon admits, wincing at the recollection.

“You what?!” Chaeyong’s voice rings out in the food court of the mall where you’re currently sitting, halfway through your strawberry milkshake.

“Keep it down, would you?!” you scold her, smiling apologetically to the people staring at you and your friend.

“If it was so good, why the hell did you run away, Y/N?”

“I just- I don’t know… Freaked out, I guess…” you mumble, cowering under the harsh look she gives you.

“Well, have you talked since?” You don’t reply, just guiltily avoid her gaze. “Y/N!”

“I know, I know! I just… don’t know what to do. ‘Hey, nice making out with you last night, bit weird since we’ve been best friends since we were 11, but that’s fine, right?’ Ugh! That’s so stupid,” you complain, flopping back in your chair.

“That’s exactly what you should say. Going MIA on him will just make things weirder. Plus you’ve never gone more than 24 hours without speaking so one of you will eventually cave in. It should be you,” she says, looking at you with a raised eyebrow as she takes a sip from her milkshake. 

You scoff when she gives you a ‘you know I’m right’ look. “I’ll think about it on the way home and text him. There.”

And you do think about it on the way home; but you don’t get the opportunity to send the text, because as soon as you get off the bus at the stop right across from your house, you see Sunghoon sitting on the bench of your porch, looking around nervously and rubbing his hands on his denim shorts. You chuckle to yourself; who knew he got so distressed from not speaking to you for a day?

He stands up when he sees you approaching and raises his hand in a quick wave. “Hi, Hoon,” you greet, and you can feel his whole body relax when you hug him. So, you don’t hate him, he thinks. You sit down on the bench together. “Sorry I didn’t text you. I didn’t know what to say after… last night,” you admit, hugging your knees to your chest as you sit facing him.

“Yeah, I figured,” he chuckles, smiling shyly at you. “I was scared you’d never want to see me again.”

You look at him with wide eyes, mildly offended, and punch his arm. “How could you think that?!”

“Well, you did sort of run away from me last night,” he says, lightly punching your arm in return.

You tut in defeat. “I did, didn’t I?” 

“Yeah. I’m just glad you didn’t walk past me straight into your house just now.”

You chuckle and rest your head on top of your knees. “That would’ve been a bit much, even for me.”

Sunghoon lets out a puff of air through his nose in response, and then the two of you sit in silence. You’re contemplating what to do next when your friend pulls you from your thoughts. “Should we, um…” He shuts his eyes tightly in reflection for a second before opening them again and looking straight at you. “Should we just pretend like last night didn’t happen? Would that make you feel more comfortable?”

His words take you aback and your eyes widen a bit; you hadn’t even thought pretending nothing happened last night was an option, because you didn’t think you’d ever be able to actually get it out of your head. Even now, if you stare at Sunghoon for too long, your gaze will naturally drift downwards or you’ll get a flashback of his large hands around your waist. But apparently, if he can offer to pretend like the previous night wasn’t a thing, then it must not have been such a huge deal to him. You quickly try to hide your disappointment and nod at your friend. “Right. Yeah. Sure.”

Silence makes its way between you two again. It makes the late afternoon breeze a bit chillier and the physical distance between you and Sunghoon feel much bigger than it actually is. Wanting it to go away quickly, you ask, “Do you wanna watch a movie, then?”

Sunghoon’s never looked so relieved about watching a movie, and he immediately accepts your offer. You get some popcorn ready while he searches for a movie to watch. He clicks on a horror movie that looks like it’s got a cliché storyline and awful acting, but you’re happy for any sort of distraction when Sunghoon is sitting so close to you.

You and Sunghoon always sit close-by when you watch something together, knees and shoulders brushing against each other. Tonight isn’t any different, except that your skin burns everywhere it touches his. You can smell the faint scent of chlorine in his hair, and it’s so intoxicating you want to bury your face there and breathe it in.

You’re thirty minutes into the movie and still nothing’s happened when Sunghoon puts his arm around you, letting his hand hang over your shoulder. The sudden warm contact makes you take a sharp intake of breath as memories of the previous night come flooding once again. You don’t know what you were expecting, but Sunghoon simply rests his hand there and doesn’t do anything more for another thirty minutes, except for squeezing your shoulder when there’s a small jumpscare, making you chuckle at him. This isn’t much more than what you’re used to with him, but knowing your friend, he must be thinking the ball is in your court. So you scooch a bit closer into his side and rest your head on his shoulder, the scent of his skin even stronger now that your nose is so close to his neck. You feel his chest raise and relax as he sighs deeply and tightens his hold around your shoulders. His small reactions to you spur you on and you decide to wrap an arm around his waist and you feel him flinch oh-so-slightly at your touch in such a sensitive spot. He starts to rub circles into your shoulder and rests his head on top of yours, and your whole body relaxes into his. This is so much more than what you’re used to with him; and yet, you so readily melt under his touch.

You can barely focus on the movie because of how close Sunghoon is. When a particularly scary ghost jumps on the screen, you flinch and hide your face in his neck, and he giggles at your reaction, hand coming up to stroke your hair comfortingly. It only takes you a few seconds to realize what position you’re in, and you release a shaky breath as you slowly lift your head towards Sunghoon, only to find him already looking at you, seemingly having had that same realization. When his eyes drift down to your lips, you know you’re done for.

You call out his name, and he’s already answered ‘Yes?’ before you’ve had time to finish uttering the second syllable. “I don’t think I want to pretend last night never happened,” you admit, holding his waist a bit tighter.

“Good. Me neither,” he breathes out before leaning down and trapping your lips in his, the kiss releasing all your pent-up frustration of the day. The world seems to melt away with his lips on yours, the movie already long forgotten. Sunghoon pulls you into his lap and you slide your palms up from his waist, against his chest and to his shoulders before wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing your body closer to his. His hands are sitting on your hips, fingers lightly pressing into them and your lower back. Now that you both seem to know what you want, it’s so easy, just falling into this kiss.

His tongue darts out to lick your bottom lip and you gladly open your mouth for him, letting his tongue explore it. You haven’t kissed someone like this in ages, maybe ever, but Sunghoon takes the lead and effortlessly gets you to follow his rhythm. When a flick of his tongue against yours feels particularly nice, you arch your back and press your chest into his, making him smirk into the kiss. This time, when he brings your hips down onto his, letting you feel his erection against your clothed core, the feeling doesn’t make you want to run away; instead, you want to feel it again and again.

You fall into a nice pace of rubbing yourself against him, eliciting hushed moans and loud breaths from the both of you. You can’t concentrate on kissing him and grinding down on him at the same time, so you drop your head down to bury your face in his neck, leaving a few pecks there but mostly moaning against his skin, enjoying how your hot breaths make him shiver.

You can’t keep a whine from escaping your lips when he bucks his hip into yours and his tip brushes directly against your covered clit, instantly bringing a hand up to your mouth. “Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes. “I know we gotta keep quiet ‘cause of your parents but the sounds you’re making are so fucking pretty. I wanna hear them over and over again.” His words make you whimper against his neck and you feel your slick starting to pool in your panties.

“H-hoon. This feels so good,” you moan, breathing warmly against the shell of his ear.

“I know, right? Feels so good,” he chuckles, hands grabbing at your ass to bring you harder down onto him. His actions are about to elicit another moan from you when, all of a sudden, a loud jumpscare in the movie makes you jump away from the boy underneath you and yelp in fear, which in turn makes him scream in surprise. You look at each other, panting and eyes open wide, hands clutching at your hearts, until you burst into laughter. The fun moment is short-lived, however, as your mom rushes down the stairs not ten seconds later, frantically asking if everything is alright. 

You sit up straight at the sight of your mother and clear your throat. You’re thankful for the dark of the room which hides your and Sunghoon’s swollen lips and flushed faces from her view. “Sorry, mom, we were just watching a scary movie. We’re fine.” She sleepily nods and walks back up the stairs, and when she’s back in her room, Sunghoon and you exchange a look and erupt into another fit of smaller, quieter giggles. 

That night, after Sunghoon’s gone home, the both of you get yourselves off in your own beds, the strong memory of each other’s lips and hands bringing you both to your releases. Without even realizing it, you moan out Sunghoon’s name as your orgasm hits. The window from your room doesn’t face his; but still, your heart is beating so loudly that you’re afraid the sound might carry from your open window to his. You get up and close it.

--

Now that you and Sunghoon both know you want to kiss each other, you do it everywhere: in his pool, his back pressed against the wall; on the sunchairs when you were supposed to be drying off; on your beds in the middle of the night, none of your parents or siblings suspicious of anything; in front of your house, because even though he was supposed to just walk you home, he couldn’t keep himself from tasting you one last time; in the backseat of his car after an evening with your friends and he drove you two home.

You spend a good two weeks of just kissing before your body starts to crave something more. At some point, Sunghoon’s hands resting nicely on your waist or sometimes, if he’s feeling bold, grabbing at your ass, start to not be enough anymore. You knew you wouldn’t be satisfied with just kisses and sweet touches when one day, his hands slowly but surely slid up your naked belly before grabbing onto your bikini-clad breast, lighting your whole body up on fire. He’d slipped his hand underneath your swimming top and rolled your nipple between two fingers and you had felt his dick twitch under your core when you let out a loud moan at the new yet so pleasurable feeling.

You know what it is that you want, but it makes you feel dirty. Your fingers have made you finish a hundred times before, but wanting Sunghoon to make you feel that way is a whole other story. Is that even what he wants? Would he be weirded out if you asked him about it? Is there even the sliver of a chance that maybe, just maybe, he has those same thoughts about you, and wants you to make him feel good as much as he wants to make you feel good?

If his grunts and the way he ruts into you when your make-out sessions get particularly steamy are any indication, then the answer to those questions would respectively be yes, no, and yes. 

You’re lying on a sunbed one afternoon, letting the sun dry off your wet skin from the pool, when you finally muster the courage to tell Sunghoon about your wishes. After all, he is your best friend, and you know you can talk to him about anything. Even when that ‘anything’ involves his fingers inside of you and his dick in your mouth.

“Sunghoon?” you call out, turning your head to look at your best friend. He’s bathing in the sunlight without a care in the world. His skin has tanned a bit since summer started three weeks ago and his muscles are even more defined after all that swimming and working out he’s been doing. You want to reach out a hand, to feel the taut skin of his abs and chest under your palms, and to maybe then slide your hand down until you feel his hard-on underneath his swimming trunks. Your chairs aren’t far apart and you could do it from where you are, but you’d rather ask him first.

“Yeah?” he answers without turning towards you.

You take a deep breath in before you start talking again. “You know how you said it could be good for us to get… experience before going to college… And how we’ve been kissing these past couple weeks…”

“Yeah, I know,” he chuckles.

“Well… people do more than just kissing, right?” you ask, voice slightly shaky. This seems to pique his interest as he turns to look at you.

“Yeah?” 

You hope you’re not just imagining the enthusiastic tone in his voice. “I think… I think we should try that too, don’t you think?” you ask, eyes not leaving his as he sits up on his chair and turns his knees towards you, fully facing you now.

“Yeah, I agree. I completely agree.” He stares at you for a few moments as if in disbelief. “Do you want to- Should we- Let’s go up to my room, yeah?” he offers, standing up and reaching his hand out to you. You gladly take it.

You and Sunghoon are a giggling mess as you practically run up the stairs, unable to get to his room quick enough. As soon as the door is closed behind you, you wrap your arms around each other, your lips finding his immediately as he walks you back to his bed. When you feel the back of your knees hit it, you detach yourself from him and lay on it, elbows holding you up as you look up at him expectantly.

“Fuck,” he whispers, leaning in to hover over you. He traps your lips in a short but sweet kiss before pulling back and murmuring against your lips, “Have I ever told you how pretty you are, Y/N?”

You beam at his words but decide to tease anyway. “You always go on and on about how pretty you are, but never about me.”

He giggles and pecks your lips again. “Well, I’m telling you now. You’re gorgeous.” You kiss him to hide your flustered face, pulling him so close to you he’s practically laying on top of you. Your hands are a bit more curious than usual, your kisses hungrier, the both of you anticipating what’s to come. 

You grind against each other, the feeling of his erection against your barely covered core enough to send your mind into a frenzy. You forget everything around you when you feel Sunghoon pull back in the slightest, far enough so that he can look at your face and gauge your reactions but not too much that you still feel his hot breath on your lips. One of his hands is holding the back of your head as the other travels downwards, stopping for a second on your breast to massage it lightly before continuing its journey. It ever-so-slightly brushes against your core, making you buck your hips up into his touch, but his hand is already gone leaving you whining and pouting and him chuckling at your cute reaction. “You want it that bad, huh?” he teases.

You scoff, not wanting to let your friend know the effect he has on you. You press your palm against his clothed erection and he hisses at the unexpected contact. “So do you, Hoon.”

When he presses his lips to yours again, you both smile into the kiss. You cup his jaw and tangle your fingers through his hair, and his hand slips from under your head and joins his other hand on your thigh, grabbing at both of them, fingers slightly digging in your skin. He’s so, so close to where you want him most, and he seems to have noticed your growing impatience by the way you squirm underneath him. Seeing you so needy for him only makes him needier for you; he has more experience than you, so you probably expect him to take the lead, but the truth is, he has no idea what the fuck he’s doing.

“Y/N?” he murmurs, face buried in your neck as he leaves a trail of wet kisses there.

“Yeah?”

“What do you want me to do?”

The question takes you a bit by surprise. You pull away to look at your friend. His eyes are completely glossed-over, and yours are probably the same. “Oh. I don’t know. I just… want you to touch me, I guess,” you say, voice a bit quiet.

“I don’t know how to do that,” he admits sheepishly. He kisses your neck and cheeks before pecking your lips. “Could you- could you show me? How you do it? And I can show you how I do it?”

You take a second to take his words in. Was he suggesting that you touch yourself in front of him, and that he do the same?

This was like a dream come true.

“Yeah, sure.”

Sunghoon giggles in response, and you can’t help but crack a smile too, even though the idea of getting yourself off in front of your friend, no matter how appealing, is still a bit nerve-wracking. “You first,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and you roll your eyes at him.

You sit back against the headboard of the bed and slip a hand underneath your swim bottom, the other hand coming up to cover your eyes in an attempt to escape Sunghoon’s heavy, lustful gaze. “None of that. I wanna see you,” he says, pulling your hand away from your eyes and resting it on a pillow next to you. “And if you keep these on, I won’t be able to see anything,” he says, looking down at your bikini top.

Before you can protest, he comes to sit on his knees in front of you, kissing your neck and letting his hands roam your back. “I wanna see all of you.” It’s so easy, untying your string bikini, he almost thinks you wore it on purpose for him to take it off. You avoid his gaze as he takes your top off of you, leaving you half-naked in front of him. “So pretty,” he whispers, and you can’t help but look at him, slick pooling between your legs from the fascination he’s looking at your breasts with. He trails kisses down your neck until he reaches them, taking a nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, then looks up to see your reaction. You never knew your nipples were this sensitive, and you can’t help but arch your back at his touch and moan loudly, hand flying up to tug at his soft hair. He releases your nipple with a pop and moves sideways to pay the same attention to the other one, but Sunghoon is impatient and doesn’t waste too much time on it; he knows he can come back to your boobs later anyway. Right now, you’ve got a hand between your legs, and that’s what he’s dying to see.

“Can I take this off, too?” he asks, looking up at you as his fingers hook on the sides of your swimming bottoms, waiting for you to nod. His eyes don’t leave your glistening core as he pulls the thin fabric down your legs, discarding it somewhere on the floor of his room. He lays on his belly and kisses the inside of your knee as he holds your thighs in his large hands, still transfixed by your pussy when he says, “Show me how you do it, please.”

You both take a sharp breath in when you start moving two fingers in gentle circles over your clit, already wet from making out with Sunghoon. Your fingers are nimble and know exactly what to do after years of doing this, but the pulse in your core is even stronger now that your best friend is watching your movements this intently. He looks like he’s scared to blink in case he might miss something. You can’t take your eyes off of his face; you’ve never seen him so fascinated by something, so eager to learn. It makes you want to put on a show for him.

A surge of confidence hits you out of nowhere as you slide your digits down your folds, gathering some slick before sliding them back up to your clit and rubbing it a bit faster, a bit harder, your moans growing louder and higher in pitch. With your free hand, you tug at the base of Sunghoon’s hair and make him look up at you. You release his hair and bring your pointer finger up to your mouth, sucking on it and swirling your tongue around it, and Sunghoon’s mind is taken back to that day a couple weeks ago when you had sucked on those lollipops. Oh, how things have changed since then. Not that he’s complaining. “Fuck, that’s hot,” he breathes out, eyes zeroed in on your lips and mouth slightly agape.

You smirk at his reaction, stomach on fire with the feeling of having this kind of power on him. When you’ve wet your finger enough, you bring it down to your slit, circling around your hole before entering it, releasing a loud moan for good measure. Sunghoon is mesmerized by the quickening with which your finger slips in and out of you, the fingers on your clit never relenting. He doesn’t even realize he’s released one of your thighs to palm himself over his shorts until you notice it yourself and tut in disapproval.

“Come and help me, Hoon,” you say, and the boy snaps out of his daze at the sound of his nickname. He nods slowly, changing his position so that he’s laying between your legs, head dangerously close to your core. You slip your other finger out of your hole and he takes that as a sign to replace it with his own. One hand still gripping your thigh, he imitates your previous actions as he gets his pointer finger wet with his saliva before pressing it between your folds, right underneath your clit where your fingers are still rubbing circles, sliding it down towards your slit, and finally pushing it in. 

“So warm… So wet, too,” he whispers in wonder, making you cover your eyes with your forearm out of shyness.

“Oh my God,” you moan, arching your back and letting your head drop to the side on the pillow. Sunghoon’s finger is much thicker and longer than your own, and it stretches you out and hits a deep spot inside you you never could, no matter how much you tried.

“Like this?” he asks, eyes curious as they bounce back and forth between your face and your entrance sucking his finger in.

“Yes, yes, just like that, you can also- oh- you can also curve it upwards a bit- fuck, yeah, just like that, Hoon, you’re doing so well,” you say, the praises just flying out of your mouth. 

This seems to instill some confidence in him, as he cocks an eyebrow at you and speeds up his actions. “Yeah? My finger making you feel good, Y/N?”

“Oh, shut up,” you bite back, but immediately let out a long whine when he easily inserts a second finger in your soaking pussy. He curves them inside you just like you told him to, and the feeling of his fingers filling you up and your own quick ones on your clit are creating a familiar knot in your stomach that is so close to breaking. That is, until Sunghoon pulls your wrist away from your clit.

“Y/N… Can I?” he asks, and you’re not sure what he’s planning, but nod anyway. He wastes no time before pressing his tongue flat down on the sensitive bud, and you actually feel like your soul might leave your body. Fingers knuckle-deep inside you, he licks and sucks at your clit, and the warmth of his tongue against your folds is what makes you tumble over the edge, tightly gripping his hair and bucking your hips into his mouth.

“Oh my God… Oh my God, Hoon, please, don’t stop, please,” you beg, voice getting higher and whinier as you cum all over his tongue. He continues eating you out until it gets too much and you have to tell him to stop. He hikes his body up yours, pecking you sweetly on the lips when he reaches them.

“Your turn,” you announce and hook your legs over his hips to straddle him. You’re about to lean in for a kiss when you notice how lovingly he’s looking at you: his eyes are soft and a small smile is playing on his lips. It takes you aback, but you’d be lying if you said butterflies didn’t spread in your stomach. “W-why are you looking at me like that?”

His grin gets a bit wider. “Did I make you feel good?”

“Y-yeah…,” you admit, averting your gaze from him.

“I’m glad. You taste good, by the way. Sweet.” You want to kiss the devilish smirk off of his face.

You scoff at your friend, glaring a bit. “Whatever. Sit up,” you order, but it just makes him smirk more.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You look up at him to check for confirmation, and when he nods, you hook your fingers under his swimming trunks, taking them off of him along with his boxers underneath. His already fully-hard cock springs free and slaps against his stomach, and you curse yourself for your reaction that will surely just inflate his ego, as if it wasn’t already massive. Your mouth hangs open, eyes zeroing in on his length, flushed red from lack of attention and what you can only guess is precum leaking at the tip. It's straight from a porno.

“Like what you see?” Sunghoon teases, making you look up at him, and you can only stupidly nod. You take the position he was in earlier, laying your head on his thigh and caressing the other, letting it ride up to rub his inner thigh and the tiniest bit over his cock, making his smirk vanish as he takes a shaky breath in.

“Show me how you do it,” you say, echoing his words from earlier. He gulps, finally realizing that he was going to have to masturbate in front of your curious eyes just as you had. He spits on his open palm and spreads the precum over his length with his thumb, lubing himself up before gripping the base and starting to move his hand up and down. You watch as his head falls back against the pillow when his palm grazes over his tip and his movements pick up some speed.

You rub his palms over his thighs, itching to get closer to his cock and make him feel as good as he had done to you earlier. Tentatively, you reach out to grab his balls in your hands, massaging them softly, feeling satisfied when a loud moan leaves his throat. “Oh, f-fuck, that feels good, Y/N,” he breathes out, voice much higher than you’re used to. If he thought that felt good, then nothing could’ve prepared him for the feeling of your soft and warm tongue kitty-licking his balls, then taking turns sucking each one into your mouth and releasing them with a pop. “Where the fuck did you learn how to do that?” he asks, involuntarily bucking his hips into your face.

You can’t help but giggle, and Sunghoon thinks he might come from the sweet sound contrasted with your lewd actions alone. “I read a lot of fanfiction,” you explain, and he doesn’t question it. If Wattpad taught you how to suck dick, then so be it.

You wrap your hand around his and tell him to keep going so you can get an idea of what pace and movements he likes, and you graze your fingernails over his abs and chest with your other hand, chuckling at how sensitive he is when you lightly pinch his nipples. Sunghoon takes his hand off of himself, laying both of his hands palms up next to him on the bed, so you decide to literally take things into your own hands. Trying to recreate what he did before, you spit into your palm and wrap your fingers around his tip, bringing your hand down in a swirly motion to the base of his shaft. You do that a few times, asking, “Like that?” to get confirmation from Sunghoon.

“Just like that, baby,” he says, not even taking notice of the pet name; but you do, and your face immediately flushes, surprised at how much you like it.

“Baby?” you repeat, but he’s too lost in his pleasure and just hums in response. His reaction eggs you on, and you lick a long stripe from his base to his tip, swirling your tongue around it and humming at the bitter but not unpleasant taste of precum there. When another moan escapes his throat, you take his tip in your mouth, at first just shallowly thrusting your head, but then trying to take more and more of him. 

You’re so focused on what you’re doing that you don’t even realize how quickly he’s panting and how his grunts start to get whinier until he’s moaning out your name. “A-ah, Y/N, feels so good, ‘m gonna cum, fuck-”

He goes silent as he shoots his release down your throat, eyebrows deeply furrowed and mouth open wide in pleasure. There’s so much of it and you can’t swallow it all, so you pull your head back, catching your breath, and a hot string of cum hits your chin and your throat. Sunghoon takes a look at you and the sight of you with some of his cum makes his dick twitch before he plops back down on the bed. You giggle as you take tissues from the bedside table (cause of course he’s got tissues next to his bed) and wipe away his seed, then lie down next to him, brushing away the hair that’s sticking to his forehead with sweat and peppering his face with soft kisses.

He opens his eyes and smiles, turning his head to look at you before engulfing you in a bear hug, sweaty bodies sticking together but neither of you minding it. “That was so good, Y/N. What the fuck,” he sighs, pecking your forehead.

You hum, nuzzling your nose into his neck. “I know, right? Who knew you could use your mouth for other things than saying stupid shit,” you tease.

He pulls back and gives you a look that tries to be stern, but you know he’s joking. “Do I need to remind you again, young lady?”

You giggle and peck his lips, forcing him out of character as his dimples appear on his cheeks. “Later, definitely.”

And after that day, he makes sure to remind you time and time again of how good his mouth feels on you. You should’ve seen it coming with how amazing of a kisser he was; but truly, there was nothing like cumming on your friend’s tongue.

--

You’re relieved to find that not much has changed, after all; you and Sunghoon still play around in the pool, watch stupid movies and hang out with your friends like always. Sure, there are stray hands here and there, or looks that last a little too long and mean a little too much, but if anything, it just makes your friendship more playful and exciting. 

You’re both open with what you like and don’t like, so it doesn’t take either of you to figure out exactly how to make the other come undone embarrassingly quickly. (The shortest amount of time it took him was 2:38 seconds - yes, he timed it - and he hasn’t let you live it down since.) You like it when he presses his large hand down onto your lower tummy while he eats you out, or when he sits you between his legs and whispers all sorts of things as his fingers work their magic inside you and on your clit. He likes it when you get down on your knees in front of him and look up at him as you suck him dry, or when you sit in his lap and kiss his neck and play with his hair while he plays video games. And don’t even get him started on when you palmed him over his sweatpants while you watched a movie with Chaeyong, Jay and Jake, making sure that the movements under the blanket went unnoticed by them. He wanted to punish you after they left, he really did, but you took him in your mouth right there in the living room and gave him an orgasm that had his thighs shaking for five minutes afterwards. You were pretty proud of yourself for that one. 

You also find out that he hates it when you tease and edge him, which only makes you do it more; the only problem is that, if you do that, he’ll make you ride his thigh and won’t help you at all. His proud smirk and snide praises combined with the feeling of his thick thigh underneath your core were more than enough to get you to your end, though.

And truly, nothing has changed, especially not Sunghoon’s special talent in pushing boys away from you.

“What do you mean, Lee Heeseung is coming back?” he heatedly asks, slamming his glass of lemonade down on the outdoor table so hard you’re scared it might break.

“It’s the summer, of course he’s coming back. He just stayed behind for a bit to enjoy a few weeks of the city without college, and now he’s coming back here,” Jake explains, shrugging.

“Do you know when he’ll be here?” you ask, far too much excitement in your voice to Sunghoon’s taste.

“Just in a couple days.”

Sunghoon has smoke coming out of his ears when he sees how much you perk up at the news of your old crush being back in town for summer. He likes the boy, but he hates that you like him. And since Heeseung is friends with Jay, Jake, and by association Sunghoon, begrudgingly so, he’ll definitely see lots of him in the upcoming months. And if Sunghoon sees Heeseung, then you’ll see Heeseung, too. And that, Sunghoon doesn’t like.

You notice something is off with him that afternoon because of how uncharacteristically quiet he is. Sunghoon, ever the loud introvert, is always arguing for no reason and laughing louder than everybody around him. So when he merely chuckles at his friends’ numerous displays of stupidity in the pool and doesn’t even say anything in protest to you getting on Jake’s shoulders to play against Chaeyoung and Jay, you know something is definitely up. You also have a good idea of what that something might be, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it endearing.

You stay behind when your friends leave in the early evening. Without a word, you and Sunghoon pack away the inflatable toys in the pool cabin and clean up the table, putting the dirty glasses in the sink. You do the dishes while he prepares sandwiches for the two of you, which he insisted on doing after he heard your stomach grumbling. You watch the latest Kurtis Conner video as you eat and can’t help but notice that he doesn’t even chuckle at any of the jokes or skits when he’d usually be clutching his stomach in laughter. 

When you’re done eating, you take a resolute breath and pause the video, but Sunghoon doesn’t even notice, only snapping out of his daze when you call out his name.

“Huh?” When his eyes find you, he almost looks surprised to see you, as if he’d forgotten you were there.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” you ask, slightly frowning. “You look so out of it today.”

“Huh? I’m fine, nothing’s wrong,” he says dismissively and presses play, but you quickly pause the video again.

“I’m your best friend, Sunghoon, I know when something’s the matter and I know when you’re lying. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but don’t pretend everything’s fine when we both know that’s not true.”

He peers at you for a moment, cursing you for knowing him so well. He crosses his arm and averts his gaze, pouting like an angry child. “I hate it when you’re right.”

You giggle and make your way around the counter to him, standing inbetween his legs and wrapping your arms around his neck to make him look up at you. His hands come naturally up to your waist. “I just…” he starts, then immediately stops himself with a sigh., “You’ve always had a crush on Heeseung. But these are our last couple months together, and I don’t want somebody else taking up your attention…”

He buries his face between your breasts to hide his blush, and you can’t help but giggle again. “Stop laughing at me!” he protests, but the muffled sound of his voice just makes you laugh more. You stroke his hair and press a gentle kiss at the top of his head.

“Sure, I’m happy Heeseung’s coming back. But there’s no one I’d rather spend my summer with than you, Sunghoon, you should know that.” He leans back to look up at you with puppy eyes and a small pout. You cup his face, admiring how cute he looks like this, and smile softly down at him.

“Really?”

“Really,” you answer, and he leans in for a kiss.

It’s a soft one. It’s a patient kiss, neither of you urging to get somewhere else, to do something more. It reminds you of that kiss in his room a few weeks ago, when you were still curious and discovering each other. From then on, your kisses had become more feverish, more eager, more playful. But now, you’re taking your time. For now at least, neither of you is going anywhere. So your lips melt together slowly, and when you take breaks to breathe, you look each other in the eyes and smile before leaning back in.

It’s when you sigh against his lips, eyes still closed as you pull away, that it hits him. I could do this forever, he thinks.

I could sit here with my arms around her waist and her lips against mine and the smell of chlorine and the sound of her laugh forever and I’d never get tired of it, he thinks, but immediately afterwards, he realizes he won’t get to do this forever. Summer will end, you’ll both head off to college, and you’ll only get to see each other every few months until another summer comes. And who knows what might happen until then?

You might meet someone and realize Sunghoon isn’t all that; hell, he might meet someone, but he highly doubts anyone could even come close to the way you make him feel.

“Hello? Earth to Sunghoon?” you quietly joke, looking down at him with an affectionate look in your eyes. You press the pads of your fingers to his two moles before replacing your fingers with your lips, giving each one a quick peck. “You were up on the moon for a minute there.”

Sunghoon hums softly, smiling as he lets himself melt under your touch. “Sorry. It’s just really hot, isn’t it?” he says, a stupid excuse he uses as a blanket to cover his feelings. There is some sweat beading at his hairline, which helps make his lie more believable, but you don’t need to know it’s not just because of the summer heat.

Slowly, your smile turns mischievous, and Sunghoon can tell you have an idea in mind. “It is pretty hot… Wait here.”

He watches as you fill a tall glass with ice from the dispenser in the fridge and pop an ice cube in your mouth, a devilish smile on your face, and laughs when that smile is replaced with a frown as the coldness hits you and you spit it back into the glass, laughing along with him. “What the hell are you doing?” he asks between giggles.

“I got the idea a few days ago when we were having popsicles…,” you say looking down at the glass between your hands, slightly embarrassed. “You kissed me and your mouth was really cold but it felt nice.” Sunghoon hums, egging you to go on. You lift the glass up to his cheeks, applying just a bit of pressure to the soft skin. “I thought this could be refreshing.” 

You take the ice cube back in your mouth, sucking on it but not letting it melt completely before pressing your lips against Sunghoon’s and opening your mouth just a bit so he could feel the cold of the ice cube. You feel his smile into the kiss as the ice cube swirls between your tongues, sending shivers down your spine. 

“Very refreshing indeed,” he murmurs when the ice has completely melted. He gets up and takes the glass in one of his hands, leaning down to your level and says “C’mon” with the same mischievous smile as you on his face.

You two hurry up the stairs, and when you get to his room, he hands you the glass before throwing himself on his back, laying on his back with his hands behind his head. “Show me what you had in mind.”

You straddle his hips and take an ice cube from the glass, rubbing it over his lips before pushing it inside his mouth, the cold making him hiss. You quickly counteract that by pressing your lips to his, the contrast of your warm tongue and the freezing ice turning him on more than he would’ve thought.

When the ice has melted, you take another piece and brush it along his jaw, down his Adam’s apple and around his nipples. The cold temperature makes him squirm but he doesn’t shy away from it, even closing his eyes to focus solely on the feeling. While you play with the ice cube, you also leave warm kisses all over his skin, reveling in its slightly salty taste from the thin layer of sweat. You let the ice cube melt between his abs and watch him wriggle as he sucks in a sharp breath, then grab another one, starting off where the previous one stopped. You circle his navel while your fingers play with the hem of his swimming trunks. He pulls them down himself and you chuckle at his eagerness. “I should’ve known you liked the cold, with all those years of ice skating you did,” you tease.  

He’s almost fully hard, and it only takes a few kisses and trailing the ice cube down his inner thighs to have his dick fully erect. He’d only been letting out small sighs and hisses until now, but when you grab another ice cube and circle it around his sensitive tip, he throws his head back into the pillows and moans loudly. You push your luck and drag the ice cube down his shaft, his thighs snapping together when it reaches his balls. You put it in your mouth and let it melt so that your tongue is still cold when you swirl it around his tip, already tasting precum there. But before you can take him further in your mouth, he calls out your name.

“Wait. I don’t wanna cum just yet. My turn.”

He shakes his shoulders in excitement as you switch positions, you taking your t-shirt and bikini top off and laying on your back and him sitting down with one knee on each side of your thighs, an ice cube in his hand and a giddy smile on his face.

He brushes it over your lips before pushing it just a bit into your mouth, holding onto it with two fingers while you suck on it, gazes locked in each other. Just as you did earlier, he trails it down your throat and your chest until they reach your nipples, marveling at the thin wet trail it leaves in its wake. He licks this trail as he circles one of your nipples with the ice cube, and you don’t know if you should focus on his warm tongue or on the cold ice cube. Once it’s melted, he takes another one and circles your other nipple with it, his mouth coming to wrap around the now cold one. Your hands fly up to grab at his hair, your back arching into his touch as you moan and pant loudly.

He sucks and licks at your nipples until you’re calling out his name, begging for more. As nice as his mouth or an ice cube around your nipples feel, your pussy is throbbing and desperate for attention. “Sunghoon… Please,” you whine.

“Please what?” he teases, looking up from your breasts with a smirk.

You whine again, knowing he knows full well what you want. “Please…”

He trails the ice cube down your stomach, circling your navel a few times where it melts before slipping two cold fingers underneath your bikini bottoms. “Is this what you want, baby?,” he asks as he rubs his fingers between his folds, and you whine at the feeling of having him so close to your hole and to your clit but not quite there either. He smirks when you nod frantically but whine at the loss of his fingers against you as he takes your bottoms off and reaches for another ice cube.

You release a loud moan and arch your back off the bed when the ice cube touches your clit. “Fuck, Hoon!”

He rubs the ice cube up and down your folds, your heat melting it much faster than your skin. He takes another one and brings it to your entrance this time, circling around it before pushing the ice cube in and staring with wonder as it melts quickly. He holds your hips down so you stop bucking them up, whimpering at the amazing feeling of the ice against you. He replaces the ice cube with his fingers inside of you and his tongue on your clit, sucking expertly at the sensitive bud and lapping at your juices. And while it feels good - God, does it feel good - and you let Sunghoon know just how nice it feels with your moans, whispers of his names and the way you hold onto his hair, you’re craving something more.

It’s something you’ve been wanting for the past few days, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. No matter how nice Sunghoon’s fingers and mouth felt, they didn’t make you feel close to him enough. You wanted to be so close to him you didn’t know where you ended and where he started; you wanted to feel him. 

You pull him up by the face, asking him to come here and getting lost in his lips as soon as they reach your level. God, Sunghoon’s kisses. You could drown in them. But still, that craving, that need for more. And now that his body is pressed up against yours and you can feel his erection against your thigh, so close to your core, you think you know what it is that you want. “Hmm, please…”

“You keep asking me for something, but you don’t tell me what it is.”

“You. I want you, Hoon, please,” you beg, murmuring against his lips as you wrap your legs around his hips and bring him even closer, his cock now pressing against your cunt.

“M-me?,” he asks, leaning back just a bit, but you pull him back in right away, resting his forehead against yours.

“Yes, please. I need to feel you inside me.”

Your words are enough to get a moan out of Sunghoon. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he pants, planting kisses all over your face and neck. Usually, you’d giggle at the ticklish sensation, but right now, you’re so drunk on pleasure, it just makes your breath even shallower and your core wetter.

“How long?”

“God. Since the second time we kissed probably,” he replies, reaching for a condom in the drawer of his bedside table. You think back to that moment six weeks ago (how has it been six weeks already?, you think), after you and Sunghoon had made up and made out on his couch in front of a horror movie. He’d wanted you for that long? And he’d waited for you to say something since then?

“Today’s your lucky day, then,” you tease in an attempt to alleviate the need for him that takes over your bones, but his gaze when he looks back at you ruins any effort. If anything, it just makes you need him even more. You feel like you might explode if you don’t have him right now.

You watch as he clumsily wraps the condom around his member, clearly never having done this before, but you wouldn’t be of any help, so you let him figure it out on his own. You let your head fall back as he rubs his tip up and down your folds, gathering your slick on his dick before aligning himself at your entrance and giving you a long, deep kiss.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, forehead on yours.

“Yeah. Are you?”

“Yeah, I am. But I’m also scared.”

“Scared of what, Hoon?” you ask, opening your eyes to look at him. You caress his cheek and cup his face in your hands, watching softly as he lets his head rest on your palm.

“I’m scared of hurting you. I heard it hurts the first time. And I’m scared…” he closes his eyes and frowns a bit. “I’m scared it’ll feel too good. That I’ll always want it. You.”

You take a small moment to think, your thumb brushing over his cheek in what you hope is a comforting manner. “You won’t hurt me, Hoon. It only hurts if you’re not ready… And I’m plenty ready. I know you’ll take it slow.” You smile softly when he nods, turning his head to kiss your palm. But if sex is as good as you’ve heard it is, you’re also scared that it might be the best thing you’ve ever experienced and that you’ll never get enough. You and Sunghoon have been meeting up almost everyday this summer and it has more often than not ended up with one of you between the other’s legs; you could never get bored of the things he made you feel or of knowing you were making him feel those exact same things. If you couldn’t live without his fingers, how could you live without his dick?

How could you live without him?

You tried to snap out of those thoughts, reassuring yourself that even before all of this you couldn’t imagine yourself living without Sunghoon, and that there was no reason this should change anything. “And don’t be scared of that, silly,” you say, making him smile. “I’ll always be here, Sunghoon. I’ll always want you, too.” 

“Fuck, okay,” he whispers, kissing your lips once before pulling himself up on his palms, hovering over you. “Tell me if you need me to stop, yeah?” he asks and waits for you to nod before finally pushing in.

You instantly moan when you feel his tip inside you, and Sunghoon stops, frantically asking if you’re okay. It takes some convincing to get him to push himself further in. “It feels so good, Hoon. Please keep going.”

You tell him to not stop until he’s fully inside you, and he obeys, even though he wants to stop when he sees your frown and your sharp intakes of breath. When he’s buried to a hilt, he can’t help but collapse on top of you, burying his face in your neck and wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. “Y/N,” he drawls out. “Feels so fucking good. So tight,” he murmurs against your neck.

“Mmh. Give me a minute, baby.” Your hands caress up and down the expanse of his back and you feel him relax on top of you. As you adjust around his length, the stretch starts to feel more and more pleasurable, until pleasure is the only thing you feel. “Hoon?”

“Yeah?” he says, kissing and nibbling softly at your neck and earlobe.

“You can move, now.”

Sunghoon doesn’t need to be told twice and ever-so-slowly slides out of you, leaving only the tip in before he slides back in. His thrusts are slow but deep, and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more. He’s barely started but you’re both already whimpering messes, holding onto each other tightly as pleasure like neither of you has felt before takes over your entire bodies.

As you both get more comfortable, his pace picks up just a tiny bit and you tentatively raise your legs higher so that they’re hooked around the back of his knees instead of laying on the bed. The new angle only adds to the intense pleasure, but you don’t even realize you’re crying until Sunghoon stops mid-thrust, wiping your tears with his thumb and worryingly asking if you’re okay and if it hurts and if he should stop. You open your eyes and smile, instantly calming his nerves. You bring his head closer to yours and kiss him like you’d stop breathing if you didn’t. “It feels so fucking good, Hoon. So, so good.”

He sighs out of relief and resumes his actions, heart swelling with pride that he’s making you feel so good, you’re crying. He’s always hated seeing you cry or hurt in general; but knowing what kind of tears these are, he thinks you look so pretty with tears streaming down your face. His hands grip your thighs a bit tighter as he quickens his pace, already addicted to the feeling of your warm walls taking him in so well.

He slips out a few times but you’re always quick to guide him back inside you. He lifts his body up a bit to get a deeper angle, hoping it’ll get him to stop slipping out, and he’s blown away by the sight underneath him. He thinks you’ve never looked so gorgeous as you do now, legs spread wide for him, cheeks flushed, brows furrowed and mouth agape for him. He kisses your tears, the salty taste bringing a smile to his lips. “So perfect,” he whispers against your mouth. “You look so beautiful.”

Sunghoon takes your legs and wraps them higher around his hips, the new angle hitting a spot inside you that’s making you see stars and has you moaning his name like it’s the only thing you know how to say. You feel that familiar tension build up inside your stomach much faster and much stronger than it usually does.

“Fuck, Sunghoon, I’m gonna cum,” you warn, and a harsher thrust inside you is what pushes you over the edge, the sensation crashing into you and making your thighs shake. An orgasm has never hit you this hard before.

You’re clenching around him like crazy and Sunghoon gasps as you milk him dry, his own orgasm hitting him all at once. He shoots his release inside the condom and stills inside you, breath completely taken away by the sudden, overwhelming sensation.

He lays on top of you for a moment as you both catch your breaths, trying to make sense of how something can feel this good without killing you instantly. He apologizes when his pulling out makes you wince and kisses the top of your head. He rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so that you’re now almost lying on top of him, head against his chest as his arms wrap themselves around you. You leave kisses all over his chest and neck and his hands caress your back.

“That was amazing.”

“I know, right?” he responds immediately, his enthusiasm making you laugh.

“Thanks, Hoon,” you say timidly, voice muffled against his skin.

“For what?”

“For making me feel this good.”

He chuckles. “No need to thank me, pretty. If anything, I should thank you for letting me make you feel good, and on top of that making me feel good.”

You hum at his words and you both stay there for a bit longer, enjoying each other’s warmth. Something blooms inside your chest, and you don’t know whether to let it grow or to squash it down. It feels nice, almost too nice, and you’re scared it might get ripped away from you and it won’t feel so nice then.

Friendship, sex, love. In those weeks spent with Sunghoon, those previously clear lines have blurred to a point they were all one big messy ball of feelings and not three distinct things you could tell apart. Has sex turned your friendship with Sunghoon into something romantic? Or is that just an illusion, and being so intimate with your best friend has messed up your once platonic vision of him? But was your vision of him ever platonic?

Haven't the two of you always been teased about liking each other for a reason? After all, you and Sunghoon didn't grow up together, and he’s never felt like a brother to you. He has always been your male friend; you’ve always been aware that he was your friend who was also a boy. When you'd moved in the house next to his, you hadn’t instantly clicked; it took a while for the ice skating prodigy to warm up to you, but his parents had warmly welcomed yours into the neighborhood and quickly became friends, so it was only a matter of time before he’d open up to the idea of you being around. Constantly.

You’d walk to and from school together, do homework together, go on family trips together, cheer each other on at your respective competitions. After his ice skating lessons, when his coach let him have the whole place to himself for a bit more practice, he’d tie your ice skates for you and drag you onto the ice rink, holding you by the waist or shoulders as he skated backwards in front of you, but also laughing at you when you inevitably fell. He’d tease you for getting second place at the science fair or for getting your arguments torn apart during Model United Nations, but the way he’d be a little nicer to you or share his food more often that week wouldn’t escape you.

Being a handsome young ice skater, Sunghoon had developed quite the loyal following of boys and girls alike who would come to see him at his competitions. He thrived off of the attention, but no matter how much he enjoyed his fans’ admiration, you were always the one he’d skate to after having won first place, hugging you tightly over the barrier separating the ice from the bleachers. Especially during your younger teen years, Sunghoon wasn’t one for skinship or PDA, so it always meant that much more to you that even after his most important wins, you were the first thing on his mind. It never failed to make your stomach flip, and all the death stares from his fans in the world couldn’t have changed a thing.

You were already close, but you became practically inseparable after Sunghoon’s injury. During the competition that would have gotten him a place at the Youth Winter Olympics had he won, his nerves got the best of him and he didn’t land his triple axel, hurting his ankle in the process. Ten years of dedication and hard work, ruined in mere seconds. To say that it destroyed him would be an understatement.

You were the one to bring him back up. You listened to him when he needed to vent, held him when he needed a shoulder to cry on, cheered him up when he needed to smile. He didn’t even need to tell you what he needed, you seemed to just know. You reminded him that he had a lot more value than his medals and trophies and that he didn’t need them to be complete. His family and friends tried their best to make him feel better, but their words never reached him quite like yours did.

Slowly but surely, his confidence came back. He’d lost his fans, but he’d gained a friend he knew would always be there for him. His dimples would appear more often, his laugh would resonate louder. His injury had made the two of you grow closer, creating a bond that would only strengthen over time.

And yet there were moments when being friends wasn’t enough. When calling him your best friend didn’t feel right. You had other friends, friends you were close to; sure, maybe not as close as to Sunghoon, but close nonetheless. And you didn’t feel that way around them.

Their laugh didn’t make your heart skip a beat. You didn’t want to bury your face in their necks and breathe in their scent when they hugged you. You didn’t want to know every single detail of their day. And you surely didn’t feel a pang of jealousy in your chest when they danced with another girl at your school ball.

You also didn’t crave their lips on yours every single day since it had happened for the first time and didn’t want to see what they sounded or looked like while getting the life sucked out of them through their dick.

Everybody told you it was obvious you were ‘more than friends.’ Why did romantic love have to be ‘more’ than platonic love? Why were there levels to it? You didn’t like the idea of taking your relationship with Sunghoon ‘one step further’; that wasn’t the way it felt to you. Rather, it felt like having to change everything you knew and create something new. Something where you could see him laugh and tell him about your day, but where you could also kiss him and graze his skin with your fingertips. Something that only you could share with him and only he could share with you. But you were afraid the friendship would fall apart if things didn't work out. So, instead of taking the risk of changing everything, you made sure things would stay the same. You’d tell the butterflies raging in your stomach to settle down and you wouldn’t let yourself fall into his touch in case it’d be like falling from the highest mountain.

That is, until he kissed you. Until this moment, right now, lying in his arms, ear right over his heart so you can hear it beat for you. You look up at him. His eyes are closed and a soft smile rests on his lips. He looks so peaceful. He always looks pleased when you’ve just been together, but right now, he seems to be in such a serene state, it almost makes you laugh.

Now that you’ve given in to your feelings, you’ve realized just how strong they were this whole time. Nothing has ever felt better than being in Sunghoon’s arms, than being able to see him at his most vulnerable state and to give all of you to him. All those things you didn’t know about him just six weeks ago, you know them by heart now. You’re sure there’s other things to find out, and you’ll make sure you will.

But summer won’t last forever.

A wave of sadness slaps you right in the face, bringing you back to reality. There’ll come a time where you and Sunghoon won’t be able to lounge around all day or lazily make-out at your will. You’ll go your own ways and not see each other for months at a time. The thought of that is unbearable, and you feel like looking at Sunghoon for a second longer might rip your heart into a million pieces.

When you sit up, tearing yourself away from his grip, he immediately opens his eyes, asking what’s wrong.

“Just need to go to the bathroom. I heard you can get STIs from not peeing after sex,” you half-lie. He nods and falls back into the bed. 

You rush to the toilet, needing to get far away from Sunghoon as quickly as possible. Even your pee smells different - guess that’s what having a dick inside you will do to you. You wash your hands and look in the mirror: your skin is darker in some spots, surely Sunghoon’s work. So not only did he mess with your thoughts, he also had to make your body all weird, too?

You splash your face with cold water, hoping it will bring you back to your senses. You and Sunghoon have been best friends for years. There’s no point in changing all of that now, is there? You’ll be leaving soon enough, anyway. Why ruin a perfectly fine friendship for a summer fling?

Those are your thoughts as you head back to Sunghoon’s bedroom, ready to tell him that this whole thing was a mistake and you should just pretend it never happened. But your resolve crumbles at your feet as soon as you step inside the room.

Sunghoon’s got a couple of snacks ready as he browses through Netflix in search of an appropriate movie. “How about Twilight?” he says when he feels the bed dip under your weight next to him. He kisses your forehead and pulls you down on the bed with him so that you’re lying back against his chest.

Screw it, you think. Whatever this is, it’s much more than a summer fling.

--

The rest of the summer goes by in a flash. No, you don’t try to make Sunghoon jealous by flirting with Heeseung; if the mention of the latter’s name was enough to get your friend mad, then purposefully twirling your hair or batting your eyelashes at the older boy just might make Sunghoon white-boy-punch a hole into a wall. And it’s not like Heeseung would try coming onto you, either, with how clingy Sunghoon gets when he’s around, always an arm around your waist and a glare that could kill Heeseung.

Sunghoon gradually opens up to Heeseung being around, even though it takes you reminding him almost daily that he’s the one whose arms you wanna end up in over anybody’s. After a couple weeks, Sunghoon stops looking like he's on the brink of starting a fight every time Heeseung so much as talks to you or hands you a glass of lemonade, and finally relaxes around him.

You spend countless sleepless nights with Sunghoon. You’ve probably memorized every single one of his moles by now, and you’ve made sure to kiss all of them. He holds you against him like he might lose you at any given moment. The only nights you don’t fall asleep in each other’s embrace are when either one of you is sleeping over at your friend’s house. On those nights, sleep always takes hours before washing over you, the lack of warmth keeping you awake.

Your friends and you spend entire days at the lake or by Sunghoon’s pool, not a care in the world. You rest your head on Sunghoon’s shoulder as you watch the fireworks Jake and Jay bought go off. Sunghoon grills your marshmallows for you, blowing on them so they cool down before handing you the stick. You try to ignore how the night air gets slightly chillier and how the sun sets slightly earlier, but by the last days of August, it becomes too noticeable. When September rolls around, you’re sure there’s a small crack in your heart.

You know Sunghoon feels the end of summer too. His kisses are deeper and his lips linger over yours a second longer. He frowns when he kisses you and hugs you, like he’s trying to remember what it feels like. His usual playful demeanor when you’re in bed together is gone, instead seemingly hellbent on making you feel good and almost begging you to say his name. As if you could say any other name. As if you could say anything else.

Neither of you mention your departure until the night before you leave. After spending the evening with your friends, you lie together in bed, the side of your face resting against his chest so you can feel his heart against your ear. He’s tracing patterns with his fingertips on your back, and it takes you a while to figure out he’s spelling his name over and over again, as if to etch it in your skin. When, once in a while, he takes his hand off of you to reach for his phone, you can still feel his fingers caressing you, ghostlike against your skin.

The air around you feels heavy, pressing the both of you down into the mattress. You wish the bed would eat you alive so you could stay there, warm against each other, as long as you like. You know you can’t leave without talking first, but the words won’t come to you. Instead, they float around the bed, weighing your heart down into your stomach.

“So,” you start. You're unsure what to say, but you know this conversation has to happen, one way or another. In the end, you settle on, “Excited to leave?”

Sunghoon scoffs lightly, his motions on your back coming to a stop. “Not really, no. It’s not like I’m leaving that far, and half of our school is going to our uni.”

“Maybe, but there’ll be tons of other people. Tons of other girls, too,” you add after a short pause.

“Don’t do this, Y/N, please.”

You sit up at his words. He covers his eyes with his forearm and takes a deep breath in, sensing an incoming argument. “Do what?”

“This. Getting mad at me when I haven’t done anything.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you protest, frowning down at him.

“No? Then what’s this?” he says, smoothing down the lines between your eyebrows and on your forehead with the pad of a finger.

“Whatever.” You nudge your head away from his touch. It burns. “It’s not like I’m wrong, anyway. You’re gonna have a bunch of girls at your feet, and you’ll know what to do with them, right? Now that you’re not a virgin?” you question, avoiding his gaze.

“Y/N…” he sighs, shutting his eyes tighter as if in pain.

“What? This was the whole reason why, right? Get experience with me so you could fuck girls better, no?”

“Y/N!” he says, raising his voice enough to let you know he’s upset but not enough to scare you. He sits up, looking at you with hurt and disbelief in his eyes. “What’s this all of a sudden? It’s not like I forced you into this! We agreed on it together!”

“So you agree? That this summer was just about getting experience and now you’ll use it on other girls and pretend like we,” you gesture between the two of you, “never happened?”

“What do you mean ‘agree’? I never said any of this! Don’t put words into my mouth!”

He watches as you get up from the bed, arms crossed and pacing his room. He calls out to you a few times, but you don’t stop to look at him until he speaks your name with a sternness you’ve never heard before from him. “What?” you snap.

“I don’t get why you’re acting like this out of nowhere! We both knew summer was gonna end at some point, and why we were doing this! Why are you blaming me now?”

“Because… because…” you sigh, scrambling for an excuse. Why were you doing this? The thought of Sunghoon doing what he did to you to another girl, making her feel as good as he had made you feel, kissing her like he had kissed you, made you sick. It made you see red, it made you want to make him wear a shirt with your face on it so everybody knew he was yours.

Sunghoon gets up and stands close in front of you, too close. You close your eyes. If you see his moles, you might reach out to touch them and let yourself fall even more. If you fall, you’ll need to get up, but his scent makes your knees weak.

His hands find your face, holding a little too gently, you think. Your small ones wrap around his wrists and grip them, a little too harshly, he thinks. 

You take a step back and finally look into his eyes. There’s hope in them; hope you’ll say what he wants, what he needs to hear. That you want him like he wants you. That you wish summer wasn’t over. That you’ll keep him in your heart until you can see him again. So, when what you say next is none of the above, he feels his heart sink down to his feet, leaving a murky puddle there.

“I can’t do this.”

You rush out of the room, practically running home. You fight your tears back until you slam your bedroom behind you, pathetically sinking to the ground as you let out a loud sob. You don't have the energy to get up, and cry into your hoodie's sleeve right there on the floor.

When you’ve calmed down a bit, you get up and lay in your bed, hiding your whole body underneath the covers. Maybe this is for the best, you think. If you end it like this, you won’t have the knowledge of whether he’ll wait to have you back or he’ll move on like nothing happened. That way, you can do whatever you want, not caring about what he’s up to. 

But even now, your hands subconsciously reach out towards a person that’s not there and your feet hang over the edge of your bed as though to get up and run to him anytime. You curl in on yourself to stop your body from aching for him. It doesn’t work very well.

Sunghoon stays where you left him for a few minutes, too stunned to move. Should he run after you? Should he let you cool off for a bit and talk to you in the morning? Would you be mad at him if he didn’t try to see you now or would the mere sight of him just make you angrier? He plops down on his bed as these questions run through his mind, butting into each other and making everything more confusing. 

He thinks back on everything that led to this, and his mind settles on that day a few days after graduation where his thoughts had dropped to the lowest pits of hell. If only you hadn’t brought those two damned lollipops.

--

The next morning, Sunghoon wakes up as if somebody had slapped him awake. He doesn’t bother to brush his teeth or eat anything before running over to your house, almost forgetting to put shoes on. He finds you in your room, packing the last of your things into an already full suitcase. He stands at your door, panting as his hands rest on his knees.

“You haven’t left yet. Thank God.”

“God, Hoon. It’s not that far between your house and mine. How are you so out of breath,” you say, glancing at him from the corner of your eye.

He walks to you and kneels in front of you, taking you in his arms before you can say anything. “Talk to me, please. Don’t leave like this. I’d never forgive myself if you left and you were mad at me, Y/N.”

You thought you’d cried so much last night that there was not a single drop of water left in your body, but you thought wrong. Your eyes immediately well up at his words, and he leans back when he hears a soft sniffle escaping you. Only then does he notice how puffy your eyes from all your crying.

“No, no… Have you been crying? I’m so sorry, pretty, please don’t cry,” he pouts, pulling you back into his embrace. It hasn’t even been half a day, but you missed his warmth so much, it only makes you cry harder.

After sobbing against his chest, possibly staining his shirt in the process, you pull away and in your light-headed, dehydrated state, spill your heart out. “It’s so stupid,” you sob. “We’re not gonna see each other for months and I’m gonna miss you so much and I don’t want you to be with other girls. I want you all to myself and I don’t want to be your friend that you fucked for a summer just so you could get experience, it was a stupid idea in the first place, if you wanted to kiss me, you should’ve just kissed me. But you didn’t just kiss me and now I’m scared that this all meant nothing to you but everything to me and that I don’t want to be friends anymore but you do and I’m mad that it took me all summer to say this even though I’ve known it for years but I didn’t want to admit it to myself but also you didn’t say anything and I’m mad about that too. Because there’s no way you don’t feel like I do but maybe you actually don’t and-”

Whatever you were about to say dies out against Sunghoon’s lips as he presses his lips to yours, interrupting your rambling. He pulls away, looking at you with a huge, stupid grin. He’s so stupid, you think. I love him so much.

“Fucking hell, Y/N. I’ve been waiting for you to say this so bad, you have no idea.”

You punch his chest, frowning at him. Those stupid tears won’t stop. Everything is so stupid. “Then why didn’t you say it first?”

“Because I didn’t know how to. You know I’m bad with words. And I was scared it’d make things weird.”

“I don’t want things to be weird,” you pout.

“I don’t want things to be weird, either. I want things to be nice and happy.”

You giggle. “That’s so stupid.”

“Right? It’s so stupid,” he repeats, kissing you again.

“Your breath smells,” you complain when he pulls away.

“And you have tears on your lips. Tastes salty,” he teases.

“Yeah, thanks to who?”

“Sorry.” He smiles and kisses you again. He holds you against him for a while, enjoying this last moment together. As long as he can see a smile on your face before you leave, he’ll be fine.

“I’m gonna miss you so much too, Y/N. And forget about those non-existent girls. There’s no one I’d rather be with than you.”

“How do you know? You haven’t met any of them yet,” you say, voice muffled against his t-shirt.

“I’ve met other girls before. None of them compare to you,” he says, and you immediately gag at how cliché it sounds. “What?! It’s true,” he giggles.

“You’re not gonna go and date a random guy, are you?”

“Of course not. None of them compare to you,” you say, lowering your voice to imitate his.

He helps you finish packing, and when you’re done, you lay together on your bed, not saying much because not much needs to be said. Your parents struggle to tear you away from each other and from your bed when it’s time to leave. He helps your dad put your baggage in the trunk of his car, telling you to not lift a finger so you watch him go to and from the car, leaving a kiss on your forehead every time he walks past you. You notice with a smile that he doesn’t carry much at once, making him have to go back-and-forth quite often.

After saying goodbye to your family, your dad waits in the car as you and Sunghoon hang back awkwardly, kicking small pebbles on the pavement. He takes your hand in his, making you look up at him, then takes the other hand, then hugs you close to him.

“I’m gonna miss you,” you say, as if that wasn’t obvious. You’re trying hard to fight tears from falling again, but it’s like there’s an ocean behind your eyes, water somehow never running out. 

“I already miss you,” he says, and that’s enough to get you to sob again, which makes him start crying too. You’re crying, he’s crying, your mom is crying from the porch as she watches the two of you, it’s a mess.

You force yourself away from him, cupping his face in your hands. “We’ll see each other soon, okay? And college will be fun. You won’t even have time to miss me. But make time to think about me, yeah? And text me.”

“I will. I’ll think about you all the time, I already do,” he says.

“Okay,” you whisper and hug him one last time, very briefly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You’re about to walk away but he doesn’t let go of your hand and pulls on your arm to bring you back to him.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he whispers, “I love you,” and you sob.

“I love you, too.”

This time, when you walk away, he lets you go. He watches as you get into the passenger’s seat and as the car drives away, as it takes you away from him. You watch him stand there in the rearview mirror, until his silhouette becomes smaller, and smaller, and smaller, until you can’t see him at all anymore.

--

Summer went and fall came as they do every year. Dead leaves are falling but it’s a new start for you. It’s a new town and you don’t know anybody, but you click instantly with your roommate and make new friends throughout your first week there. You realize everybody’s in the same boat, and they’re all eager to meet people and are curious about college life. You love your classes but complain about them nonetheless. You eat more ramen than you’d like to admit and turn up hungover at a 9 am class on a Thursday. You pull all-nighters at the library and develop a caffeine dependency. You’re a college student.

You and Sunghoon were very dramatic when you left, you soon realize. You call almost everyday. He’s not there with you and you miss him but at least you don’t have to pretend you’re not stupidly in love with him anymore. Because it’s stupid, being in love, it really is. You wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Your first semester passes by almost too quickly, and before you know it, you’re on the drive home, already one eighth of the way through university. You’re excited to go home, but Sunghoon’s finals last a week longer so you wait around for him. When you complain about it, Chaeyoung tells you to get a grip. “You haven’t seen him in three months, I’m sure you can handle another week.”

And you can, but barely. You were about to explode but then he’s back and you’re in his arms and his hair is still so soft, his scent is still so comforting and his moles are still there. You kiss them both before you finally press your lips to his, and it makes you feel so alive, you could die right then and there.

You lie on his bed and talk for hours as if you didn’t keep in touch the whole time and it’s like you never left. It’s like summer never ended and you’ve just been lying in his bed the whole time, college just one big fever dream. 

But his skin doesn’t smell like chlorine anymore, and he’s not in his swimming trunks. It’s fall, almost winter, and you’re kissing Park Sunghoon. You realize you can kiss him whatever the season and you find comfort in that. It was a big day (you cried a lot when you saw him) and you’re tired so you think you’ll kiss for a bit and that’ll be all but then he whispers “I missed you so much” against your neck and a fire lights inside your stomach. Oh, how it burns. You think it might consume you whole, but you don’t dislike that idea.

In a flash, you’re on top of him, his shirt is off, your shirt is off, but it’s not enough so you take your pants off too and Sunghoon is confused as to why you’re going so fast, but follows you anyway. “What’s going on?” he asks when you’re done with the taking off of your clothes and have moved on to kissing and biting at his neck like it’s your first meal in ages, because it is.

“I missed you too,” you simply answer, and he smirks as he nods slowly, now understanding your eagerness.

“Missed me that much, huh?” he teases, letting his head fall back against the pillow so you have better access to his neck.

“Shut up. Kiss me,” you order, and he doesn��t need to be told twice. Your kisses are ravenous and desperate, very fitting for two horny people in love who haven’t seen each other in months. But the pulse in your core makes you too impatient to stay anywhere for too long, and really, it’s not your fault if you’re grinding down onto Sunghoon’s clothed erection, it’s just that he smells too good and you missed him too much.

Sunghoon laughs at you for being so impatient to hide just how impatient he is. His giggles keep him from moaning loudly enough to wake the whole house, and you laugh as you tell him to stop laughing.

“I’m serious. I missed you so much. Need you so bad,” you say as you get rid of your underwear and quickly do the same for his. He gasps when he feels you take his dick in your hand and brush its tip between your folds, both out of pleasure and out of surprise.

“Shouldn’t I get you ready? Stretch you out a bit?” he asks, his hands roaming up and down your back as he sits up on the bed so that you’re straddling his lap, and you shake your head no. You’re probably already embarrassingly wet from your short makeout session, anyway.

“I don’t care if it hurts,” you say, lining his tip with your entrance. “Need to feel you.”

You sink down on his cock, the both of you releasing loud moans at the long-awaited feeling. He lets you adjust to his size for a minute, but as soon as you move your hips just a bit, signaling to him that you’re ready for more, it’s over for you. He wanted to be patient and take his time, he really did, but you feel so warm around him and your small whimpers are so pretty that his resolve of letting you take the lead is thrown out the window. He pounds into you at a rapid pace that has you biting his shoulder to keep yourself from screaming.

You had imagined your first time back with Sunghoon so many times before. It usually involved a nice playlist in the background, fairy lights and candles lighting the room, hours of foreplay and sensual lovemaking, with a nice bath afterwards. Sometimes, when you were particularly needy for him, you imagined something closer to what was actually happening, where you’d rip each other’s clothes as soon as you got to the bedroom and fucked like animals (a bit much, admittedly, but you really missed him).

What you definitely hadn’t expected, however, was that you’d both cum in less than five minutes. What could you do, though, when he was hitting your g-spot over and over again, his length stretching you perfectly as he whispered in your ear how much he’d missed you and how good you felt? And what could he do when you took him in so well, clinging onto him as you told him how much you’d missed him and how good he felt?

You finish at the same time, hole clenching around him and milking him dry. He doesn’t pull out for a while, letting you collapse onto him as you both catch your breaths, just like you had that first time. “That was a bit quick,” he pants, and you can’t help but laugh. 

You pull back to look at his face. It’s so pretty and stupid. What a stupid face that you love so much. Do you love it because it’s stupid or is it stupid because you love it? You think that that’s a stupid question, and you kiss the mole on his nose, then the mole on his cheek, right next to his nose.

“We have all night to go slower.”

“We have all Christmas break,” he corrects.

We have the rest of our lives, you think, and you think that might be a bit much, but you say it anyway. Sunghoon hums and says, “yes, we do,” and you think maybe it’s not all that stupid.

Maybe it’s the greatest thing that’s ever been.

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[jjenthusee]

Handshakes And Trash Cans

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

a/n: simply, i wrote a lot and i didn’t wanna release it in parts, so i squeezed the entire fic here. I’ve been having fun writing small excerpts and then they turn into full fics. Jason deserves all the love, so i focused on a neighbors to lovers? No mention of vigilante stuff, but tons of domesticity. With some mentions of big brother Dick (i’m a firm believer that he’s the number one supporter of Jason and just wants the best for him), a bit of steaminess if u squint, and a very devoted Jason. leave me any comments if your comfortable sharing because i wanna know what u guys think XD and if you were crying screaming sliding down the wall like i was (also despite me still being in my repenting era, i wanted to release this as an early apology cause i wanna write another angsty drabble so maybe…maybe not look forward to that) ENJOY (link to the work before this one here)

word count: 7.1k

tags: pining, tons of fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, heartfelt confessions, big brother dick shenanigans

When you got your first two-bedroom apartment, you always thought the dream would only be possible with a roommate. You didn’t have much money during college and transitioning into a full-time job didn’t allow you to freely spend outside of necessities and rent.

But you did it. You got two bedrooms and you didn’t initially know what to do with the extra room. A hobby space, a library, a guest room, or an office? There were too many possibilities.

This was your space, so you combined it all. A basket to keep all of your current craft obsessions next to a bean bag, two full shelves of books from your childhood to your university years, and a desk in the corner to write. It was everything you hoped for. A spot to leave work out of, to decompress and remember the things that made you happy.

You were proud you did it on your own. You could enjoy solitude, your hard work and give time to prioritize yourself.

But an unexpected accomplishment came with an unexpected visitor. A handsome visitor no less. Maybe being an adult wasn’t so bad all the time.

…

But meeting new people was bad. Or you were bad at it.

When you were up at two in the morning, doing normal two a.m. activities like trying to turn your entire life around, you believed that dragging yourself to one of the community events at the apartment complex would help you get to know your neighbors. Then you could scope the scene to see if you wanted to hide forever or maybe have a friendly acquaintance you acknowledged in the hallway.

Now you wanted neither as you sat, alone, at a bar stool in the well decorated community balcony. Although you were distancing yourself from the main party, you couldn’t help admiring the string lights they hung up, the pristine décor, and new furniture. They clearly went through a grand renovation before you moved in.

Despite your need to socially decompress from all the small talk, you did feel mellow in the warm lighting, listening to the slow music you quietly hummed to.

The view was great from your table, you got to see from the edge of the balcony into the city view. Gotham City did have its moments and lots of outsiders tend to see all the bad that overruns it, but when the city is calm, it has its own virtue.

As you watched the sky line, a man also decided to join in, admiring the city lights. He stood farther from where you sat, leaning against the glass and steel railing. He was probably distancing himself from the party like you were. You could only see half of his face from your current angle and distance, but he was…charming. Broody and charming.

Gotham did have the best views, but staring was bad. A little bit of hope crept into your mind at the thought of a handsome neighbor living in the same apartment building.

Another pretty man joined him. Wow, you never realized that Gotham had a lot of great views. Maybe you needed to get out more, enjoy the scenery a bit.

The two beautiful men seemed to know each other. One more talkative than the other, but they seemed close. It was amusing watching the way they contrasted one another, a man clearly dragged to be here tonight and the other fueling himself with the night vibe.

As much as you wanted to continue to be nosy, maybe it was time to call it a night, it was late and you got enough of your pretty boy fill for the evening. Which would have been the plan if you didn’t make eye contact with the second model that blessed your eyes.

You nervously observed the charismatic man walking toward you with a bright friendly smile.

“Hello, I just wanted to ask if my brother—the tall very alone one standing over there—could be tall and very alone over here, in this seat.” He dragged the stool out from underneath the glass table you were resting your arms on.

You looked at the empty seat across from you, then glanced at his presumed brother you were staring at earlier. He clearly didn’t agree to this sudden turn of events as he watched the two of you talk and he looked more mortified than you were. It was…cute. It brought a smile to your face.

“Well, your tall and very alone brother looks scared of me.” You glanced back to the man still holding the chair out.

Your comment must have been hysterical at the way the man was almost leaning forward from laughing. His dimples fully visible and his hair falling forward. Everything he did looked stunning.

“I promise he’s friendlier than he looks.” He breathlessly held his stomach still amused at your first impression of his broody brother. “He’s tall, alone, and friendly if it helps.”

You thought for a moment, debating on your options: leave or sit with a handsome man in possibly awkward silence.

“I don’t mind being alone together.” You smiled more, giving into the curiosity of the man leaning against the railing.

You were a simple human and apparently the man in front of you was too when he ushered his brother over. A man much too large for the bar stool, but you got a good look at his full face.

The curls, defined dark eyebrows, a white streak. His face had definition, a particular beauty that differed from his brother. Not less beautiful, but you were more drawn to the rougher look.

You definitely made the right choice.

Before you had any time to say anything, the conspirator left to go mingle with another bunch of attendees. You watched him hop from one conversation to another, you didn’t know whether he knew them or he just met them like you had five seconds ago.

“I think social anxiety is scared of him.” You laughed in disbelief to your new companion.

“Trust me, you have no idea. I’ve seen him wear some of the most horrendous outfits in public, willingly. What’s worse is—I hate to admit it—but he can pull it off, in a horrifying way.” The stranger shook his head, no mortification in his voice, and you almost unconsciously lulled to the sound. “But he means well, uh, sorry he dragged you into whatever he’s planning. I could leave you alone, he tends to unintentionally be pushy.”

Oh? Broody, charming and thoughtful. Was the bar low or were you easily impressed? Maybe the husky voice is blurring the distinction.

“No, it’s okay, he seemed worried about both us being ‘very alone’ as he put it.” You spoke, glancing into the eyes of the man in front of you. Greenish blue. A wave of amusement washed over you and with the most serious expression you could muster, you decided to test the waters. “From one alone person to another, let’s be alone together.” You reached out your hand to introduce yourself.

He coyly smiled at your formal gesture, leaning in to mimic your movement. You were both leaning onto the glass table, close enough to see the slight scaring on his face. Faint enough to see them only if you were close enough, wanting to drag your thumb across them.

His warm hand engulfed yours. Calloused. A firm handshake.

“Jason, alone man, and been alone for twenty-one years.” Jason gave you the most breathtaking smile, never letting go of your hand. “I’m looking forward to this opportunity…alone, of course.”

You laughed, almost giggled from how charming this man was.

“It’s been twenty-three alone years and still counting.” You mischievously smirked, glad he joined in on your antics. “I’m glad to let you join the team. I expect great things from you.”

“And I hope to learn a lot from my superiors, I’ll be in your care.” Jason’s voice was so low at the end of his statement. It caught you off guard that you almost missed the way he held onto your hand just a tiny bit longer than you anticipated. So short that you felt like you imagined it.

The warmth still lingered on your hands after you let go.

You were so engrossed in Jason’s company and Jason only had the eyes to look at you, that neither of you could see the man, who schemed your interaction, was beaming from watching the connection spark.

…

That single handshake and nonchalant agreement that you shared with an unknown neighbor actually kept it’s promise. That evening, you found out that Jason lived on the same floor as you did, that his brother visited him a lot, and he took out the trash on Wednesdays.

He didn’t tell you the last one, but you found out the last bit of information by accident when you bumped into him on your way back from the trash room. You thought the evening you met Jason would be the first and last time you would see him, but your laziness prevented you from taking out the garbage on your designated day and you were graced with seeing his lopsided smile as you passed him in the hallway.

You were so giddy from the surprise and seeing Jason’s captivating smile, you tested your luck and took the trash out on the same day and time the following week.

You listened out in the hallway, trying to hear a door open, it was honestly crazy behavior, but you continued your slow pace, but with no tall alone man in sight and a defeated sigh, you walked to the trash room with no Jason by your side and swung the door open.

Like a beam of light cascading over you, the man in question was standing in front of you, opening the trash shoot. You never thought a man in a trash room would be sexy, but with his shirt tightly straining on his body, a flushed face, and his muscles eye level with you, anything was possible.

May whoever told this gorgeous man to live at this apartment complex eat delicious meals, have working phone chargers, and a lifetime of happiness.

Somewhere off in the far distance, Dick sneezed.

You almost forgot the reason you were in the trash room after you set your eyes on Jason’s post-workout state. He kept the shoot open for you and with unsteady steps you threw your trash bag to disappear to the unknown. You were trying to not trip up with Jason’s defined arm holding the handle open and the close proximity of his chest to your face.

Maybe you need to go on a run. Why were you acting like this right now?

“Hey, neighbor.” Jason casually spoke to you. His voice felt airy, probably winding down from the exercise. “You come around here often?”

You cleared your mind from any thoughts, the trash room was not the place to start flirting, but what were you supposed to do when Jason started it? Or what you assumed to be flirtatious conversation.

“Nah, I’m new to town.” You glanced over to him, leaning your neck back to grasp his full height. Jason hadn’t missed the movement, combing your collarbone with his gaze. “But, I might stay a while.” You melodically spoke.

Before your stare and voice settled in the air, you stepped to the side to add a little distance between the two of you. Pulling away from the tension.

“Just so I can continue my alone things.” You explained trying to smoothen the mood with a playful tone.

Jason stayed quiet like he was contemplating something in his mind. Then he let the trash shoot close and with small steps the both of you walked out into the hallway.

“What alone things do you have planned tomorrow?” Jason nonchalantly asked, so casually you almost thought you heard wrong.

“Uh, work in the morning, but nothing planned for the evening, I wanted to try out a new cookie recipe.”

“Do you wanna come over to my place—I wanted to cook something for dinner, but it just hasn’t worked out yet. Maybe you can bring those cookies?” Jason didn’t look at you, suddenly interested in the pure white walls of the hallway. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

You were stunned. How was such a beautiful man asking you to come over to his place with the promise of him cooking you dinner and all you had to do was bring your shitty cookies?

“I want to warn you that my cookies aren’t award worthy. I just follow the recipe, they’re nothing special.” You wanted to ensure that Jason was really inviting you over.

“Then I can’t wait to try your ‘nothing special’ cookies.” He reassured.

…

You spent the entire afternoon making sure your measurements were precise, not a lump of flour above the rim of the measuring utensils you haven’t brought out in a while. Usually you winged the ingredients, not really worried about the quality too much since it was just you.

But now you wanted to cry.

How did you properly fold ingredients, were you whisking right, maybe you should’ve got the too expensive butter from the store?

It took three full hours to prep, bake, and try your hand at cutely packaging the cookies. It took four attempts to arrange the cookies in a way that didn’t make you want to cancel the dinner.

But after a few pep talks in the mirror and reassuring yourself that this was a hang out and not a date, then you were able to walk over to his unit number.

You hesitantly knocked on the door, five minutes after seven because you would torture yourself thinking about arriving right on the dot before you fell asleep tonight and every night after.

Your worries left your mind when you saw Jason open the door in an apron.

“You’re just in time, I’m ready to plate everything.” He beamed.

Your heart might not be able to survive tonight. But it was just dinner.

You awkwardly handed Jason your tin of homemade cookies. You tried to limit your snooping around his apartment when he told you to wait for him to get the drinks, but curiosity was coursing through you once you realized that you were being invited into a part of Jason’s life and home.

You were no longer going to be strangers. You didn’t know if this qualified to make you friends, but you knew you were two people about to eat dinner together. A dinner he made and cookies you made as thanks.

Once you were ready to eat, you stared at your plate filled with spices, fresh veggies, a meticulously cooked entrée and a…homemade lemonade? You stared up at Jason, watching you look at his food.

“I feel like bringing you cookies isn’t enough.” Although you felt guilty, you took a bite because you didn’t want to look at one more second of Jason’s shining eyes.

You could only sigh, which made Jason worry.

“I think I’m going to name my children after you.”

Jason chuckled at your exaggeration.

“I’d be honored.”

The rest of the meal was relaxing. You didn’t have to force yourself around Jason. Your conversation flowed easily and you were interested in learning about the man you met on the balcony.

…

After many trips to the other side of the apartment building and a couple of deep cleanings of your apartment, you got accustomed to having Jason walk around your kitchen, rummaging the cabinets and organizing your spices the way he likes it.

One shared meal after another. Sometimes several times a week or spaced out further when work got busy. It was nice to look forward to a meal with Jason.

Now you had text messages from him on your phone, a designated mug for him, and a couple of his snacks that he wanted you to try.

You traded recipes. Jason gave you his favorites and you mainly just gave him ones you were curious about, not very fond of your kitchen.

After several failed attempts at convincing him that it was your kitchen that was the problem and not your ability to cook, he came over more to prove you wrong.

Now you sat at your kitchen island to watch him concentrate on mixing an assortment of spices and herbs while you memorized as much of his face and hands as possible. The TV was on, but you had no interest in whatever movie played.

“I have a confession to make.” You sadly looked at Jason.

He glanced over from the pan on the stove to your face. Confusion in his eyes from your sudden change in tone.

“I actually don’t really like cookies.” You threw your hands up in a guilty pose. “Now it’s eating me inside that I had to give those to you when I first came over to your place.”

Jason hummed and tilted his head with one of his eyebrows raised in a teasing manner.

“So, the guilt finally got to you, huh?” He grinned moving his attention back to the food cooking in front of him. His nonchalant voice resonating around you.

“I can’t sleep at night anymore.” You exaggerated, walking a little closer to his side. “Well, once you became my personal chef I realized I had to make it up to you.” You could smell the food better now that you were standing next to Jason.

“I can see the guilt in your eyes.” He flatly said watching you eyeing the food.

“We always eat when we hang out and I can make simple foods, but if I can follow a recipe I was going to suggest if I should cook something, but you are also here to prove me wrong that my kitchen isn’t cursed. Which it is by the way—”

“Your kitchen is not cursed.” He warmly scolded you. “I’ll come over everyday to prove it if I have to.”

You always had to reset your brain when he used that tone with you. It just felt too…sincere. Too intimate.

You wanted him to come over everyday. You took a breath.

“I make more money than when I was still in college, but I don’t think I can afford that many grocery bills.” You teased him. “Why do you think I go over to your place?”

You wanted to evade any serious topics and humor was the best at evading. You were good at avoidance.

“So, I’m a free pantry to you?” His eyebrows rose, questioning you. “I knew you were using me!” He faked a flabbergasted voice like he just heard his life-long partner declare they were cheating on him for months.

He turned off the stove, covering the pan with the lid and turning to face you.

“I didn’t mean to, it just sort of happened.” You gave him your best dejected look. “I promise I’ll pick up more shifts to help restock your fridge, but let me just taste your homemade ravioli one last time.” You begged as he moved closer to you, closing you in with the kitchen island behind your back.

His height and broad shoulders easily caved you in. You gulped watching his face lean down and inch closer.

“If I can’t trust you with my fridge, you don’t deserve my ravioli.” He lowered his voice, gazing down at you with a look that made you breathless. You couldn’t move with the counter behind you and Jason hovering dangerously close to you. “But, you can make it up to me.” He brought his thumb to your chin, barely a wisp of touch.

“How?” You stammered, wondering if the bit was still going.

“Let’s go to the farmer’s market tomorrow.” His hand moved from your face to the edge of the counter, close enough to touch your side and his voice returning to normal, but he didn’t pull away.

“Okay, uh, I’m off tomorrow.” You stared, darting your eyes between Jason’s eyes. Trying to adjust to the tension that was radiating off of him.

“Good, foods ready.” Jason pulled away, moving to the cabinet to grab your glass plates. He was too familiar with the layout of your kitchen.

That night you quickly learned how easy Jason was able to turn the tables. Your racing heart and shallow breathing were the only evidence of it ever happening.

…

The heat beat down on you. Of all days for Gotham to finally clear it’s clouds, it chose today.

Although you weren’t fond of the warm air, you liked watching all the colorful tents, the food on display, and seeing the various local products. Everything looked intricately cared for and it brought a proud feeling to contribute to the locals.

“Bags?” Jason asked, going through his mental checklist.

“Check.” You raised the reusable grocery bags in your hands.

“Hats?”

“Check.” You nudged the baseball cap on your head.

“Money?” Jason smirked.

You grabbed onto Jason’s bicep. Giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Check.” You grinned up at Jason looking at the placement of your hand. “Now let’s go!” You gleefully led him to the first tent with your hand still on him.

You had no idea how you ended up carrying all the bags, but you were trying to ease your mind that this could be considered a date. Jason didn’t call it that and you never asked to clarify, but you couldn’t help it itching at your brain.

You didn’t want to label anything, out of respect for Jason and what he wanted, but you noticed he had started to touch you more and the contact makes you giddy that you had to put all of your focus on making sure you don’t drop his produce.

You stood by Jason, looking at various jars of loose leaf tea. He was smelling all the aromas, helping to move the jars to your nose, so you could smell them too. He insisted on helping you since you refused to give him a bag, but you also didn’t have a free hand to grab the jar.

After a couple more sniff tests, he settled on a jar of prickly pear tea, a lemon-ginger flavor, and he was contemplating on some earl grey cookies. You were watching him, entranced by his concentration. His brows lowered, a small line appearing between his brows. You could see more of his face with a cap on, no messy curls on his forehead and his side profile was really something.

You broke out of your trance when he offered you a piece of the earl-grey cookie, holding it in front of your mouth.

“They’re free samples, try it.” He looked at you, waiting patiently. “I know you don’t like cookies, but these are made with the tea sold here. I saw all the tea you keep in your pantry, so I think you would like it.”

In your lost state at this man in front of you, that could’ve sounded like a proposal to you at that point.

You inched forward, opening your mouth for the cookie. You hesitated at the intimacy, but how could you tell that face ‘no.’ Staring at the small piece of cookie, baked a quarter of the original size they sold, you also saw all the scars that littered Jason’s hands. Many healed over, but you could see the faded lines.

You dangerously wanted to kiss each one.

You grabbed the piece in your mouth, but you didn’t realize that you accidentally touched Jason’s finger with your lip.

You quickly glanced at Jason, but his eyes were glossed over. His attention focused on your mouth.

What a sight.

You chewed and hummed. They were good. Jason cleared his throat at your approval.

“I’ll get a bag and the tea. I’ll be back. You can put the bags down for a bit because there’s a small line.” He quickly turned around, a small tinge of redness left on his ears with his head turned away from you.

You watched his back walk away, then settled the bags down to give your arms a break.

“Excuse me, I just wanted to tell you that you two are adorable.” A honeyed voice spoke trying to grab your attention.

Your head whipped back to the table of teas. An older lady restocking the various collection had a mischievous look in her eye. You hadn’t noticed her there at all.

“The way your boyfriend looks at you, I haven’t seen a look like that since my husband passed many years ago.” The lady gushed.

“Wha, no, I—“ You stammered, trying to clear up the confusion, but your flustered face must’ve amused the woman.

“That made my day, so I wanted to give you this lemon bar we just started selling. Go on, take it and share it with him.” She pressured you to take the free treat. You were too speechless to try to refuse it and insist that you pay before she placed it in your hand herself and she walked off to help another customer wanting a sample.

Your face felt hot and you hoped it cleared before Jason came back, but before you could fan the redness away he appeared next to you with his purchase.

“Hey, you okay? Where’d you get that lemon—”

“Let’s get some lunch!” You grabbed the bags and nudged him to the food trucks lining the edge of the market, trying to hide your face with your hat and leaving the comments from the woman behind.

…

“Wow, this might be the best empanada I’ve ever had.” You chomped at your lunch.

Jason found a waffle place and settled on a berry topping. It was wrapped perfectly to fit in his hands.

You sat across from Jason at an outdoor table with an umbrella to shield you from the sun, sitting away from the rush of people lining up to also eat. The midday lunch rush got to you and you wanted to have a bit of privacy before you went back home.

“How long have you known about this place?” You asked Jason, a slight breeze grazing your face. Watching a kid nudging his dad for a piece of banana bread he found on one of the vendor’s tables.

“Last year? It was recent, but I’ve heard it’s been around for a while. Maybe over five years?” Jason took a bite of his waffle.

“I wish I had found this during my university years. This is a bit out of the way of my walk route, but it would’ve been awesome to browse with my friend.” You saw the boy you were watching earlier smiling wide as he held his dad’s hand and the banana loaf as big as his head. You smiled at the interaction.

“But I probably would’ve sent my friend into shock.” You continued, the boy and his dad disappearing into the crowd. “I wasn’t very social during my university years.” You glanced at Jason, his waffle gone and he was neatly folding the wrapper.

“My friend would joke that I would only meet someone if they magically met me at home. Like that was the only way I could score a date.” You pitifully joked at the old memory. “Sounds absurd doesn’t it, but she wasn’t wrong—“

You saw a shift in Jason’s eyes. He had an oddly serious look, it stopped you from talking and you sat up straighter, wondering what he was thinking about.

You waited, watching him internally fight with whatever he wanted to say.

“That’s not true.” He hesitated. “You’re funny, you’re able to connect with others, you’re a great listener, and you’re honest. You don’t have the heart to be mean to others and your facial expressions are adorable.” His voice rose the longer he defended you. His serious expression further amplified with his furrowed eyebrows. A part of his face obscured by his cap, but you felt the raw emotion emanating from him.

“Anyone would be enamored with you, even if they met you in the hallway or walking down the street.” He puffed, crushing the waffle paper on the table.

You were surprised, glancing over at Jason, watching him get this frustrated. You realized you’ve never seen him this…emotional and he refused to look at you.

The sudden development and his clear thoughts about you stunned you. You joked with Jason how alone you both were, it even brought you together thanks to his brother, but you didn’t really know how alone he truly was. You don’t think he really understood how lonely you were too.

You enjoyed your shared meals, you craved his time and attention.

You got so used to his presence that the days you didn’t see him, you felt like you were dreaming. Waiting to wake up when you heard that familiar knock on your door.

Your heart raced and you hoped he cherished your time together like you did.

You didn’t want to assume his witty personality as being flirtatious, you didn’t want to misunderstand any of his intentions because he was funny, charming, and awkward in ways that you just wanted to grab his face and protect him.

You didn’t particularly need Jason as your person, that felt too selfish, but you also wanted to be somebody to him. Either next to him or from a distance.

A friend, a companion, a lover. The label didn’t really matter to you because you were open to any role. A lover wasn’t more significant than a friend would be. They both had the same foundation, to care for someone unconditionally.

You convinced yourself that you were happy alone, but not until recently you realized you weren’t living. You were asleep in the routine of life.

And when Jason entered your life, you felt like you woke up for the first time.

Like he was the only one who could wake you up.

All you knew was that you wanted to be there. Through his pain, his suffering, his happiest moments, his accomplishments, his anger. To be his person.

To also help him wake up.

Your silent contemplation made Jason panic.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get worked up—“

“I think apartment community events count.” You softly whispered, indecisive of whether you wanted him to hear you or not.

“What—“

“And secret meetings in the trash room too.” Your voice meek.

You were shaking, too tense to look at his reaction to your words.

“Despite what she told me, I still managed to meet you. And I was able to have some of the best meals. I’ve never laughed as hard as I have when we joked. I’m able to try new things.” You raised your head, overwhelmed by your feelings, but you hoped to convey yourself properly to Jason. “I’ve never felt so comfortable and safe with anyone else.”

Jason looked at you wide eyed and speechless, his mouth slightly agape. You took the disbelief as a sign to continue.

“I’m able to be all those things that you said because I’m with you.” Your voice filled with more resolve the more concrete your feelings felt, the more sure you became. You squeezed your eyebrows together, complete sincerity in your gaze, your heart filled with so much emotion.

But your eyebrows relaxed once you saw Jason’s face turn red. His ears a crimson shade. Before you could engrave it in your memory, he tilted his head down, covering his face with the front of his baseball cap.

“Wait, wait, wait—I didn’t expect this.” Jason rubbed a hand down his face, but the redness contrasted the skin of his hand. “You were so shy every time I tried to push the boundaries between us, but now your directly confessing everything at once.”

He stopped rubbing his face and rested his hand on the table. Meeting your gaze, a tint of red still on his skin but not as deep as before.

“I’ve been trying to get closer to you. I’ve been hoping to run into you since we first talked on the balcony. When we met in the trash room, I purposely tried to meet you again. I’ve looked forward to every meal I’ve cooked for you and although I haven’t been clear about my feelings, I didn’t want to pressure or rush you.” Jason took a breath, closing his eyes for a moment.

When they opened again, his eyes were completely focused on you.

“I want us to be more than friends…I want to be able to come over when I miss you, fold laundry together, buy you things when they remind me of you, I want you to call me when you need car maintenance.” He kept his eyes trained on you, but his voice faltered. “I want to hold your hand and to kiss you. I want us to go on dates.”

You raised your hand to the table, placing your hand over Jason’s, but he quickly flipped your hands so he was holding yours a little more firmly.

“I want to know if you snore while you sleep, to have your things at my place, so I see you in every inch of my life. I want you to know how much I’ve fallen for you.”

“I want that too.” Your voice trembled. “I’ve been wanting to hold your hand while we walked today and I want you to come over more often.” You choked as Jason leaned in to caress your face with his hand. A sickening sweet touch that you never knew you would get to feel. You cupped your hand over his.

“I’m so happy. I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while.” Jason whispered to you, his voice so honey sweet.

You looked up to him. A gentle gaze reflecting back.

“I probably look like a mess right now.” You shakily laughed.

“Of course not, you’re breathtaking, sweetheart.” Jason rubbed a thumb on your cheek, completely enamored by you.

“As much as I would love to hear you continue, I’m worried about the stuff you bought and this heat.” You tried to focus, but the smooth touch of Jason was difficult to ignore.

“Yeah, we probably need to make our way back.”

Despite his words, he didn’t move. He lingered on your face a while longer before he looked at all the bags he accumulated this morning.

“Will you let me help you carry some of the bags?” He asked. “I also want to hold your hand on the way back.”

You beamed at him. Reaching for his hand as you stood up.

…

Your walk back was refreshing.

You were exhausted from the intense flux of emotions you released, but Jason’s grip on your hand stabilized you.

You couldn’t stop smiling, the heat no longer bothering you. You swung your interlaced hands to the motion of your steps and Jason let you do what you wanted as long as you still held on.

When you got to the entrance of your apartment building, you were graced with the AC hitting you. Your hair would definitely be messed up from the sweat and your cap.

You waited in front of the elevator doors as it descended from the last person that used it. The lobby was empty, except from the usual leasing office workers inhabiting the space, but it was just you and Jason off to the side.

As you glanced around, making sure the employees were occupied, you used your grip on Jason’s hand to pull him down enough for you to kiss his cheek. A little awkward with your cap in the way, but you were able to surprise Jason.

He stayed hunched forward, shifting his face to look at you closely and digest what you did.

Ding. The elevator doors opened and you pulled Jason in the elevator.

You felt accomplished as you pushed the button to your floor. When you moved back to Jason’s side, you looked up to him, but he grabbed your face.

His hand pushed your cap up, so he could lean in and kiss you. His hat also moving up at the angle he was in.

You closed your eyes, disoriented at the feeling and because Jason completely blocked your view of the elevator, so you only heard the doors close.

Lost in the feeling and the movement of his lips, you dropped the bags in your hand to grab at Jason’s sleeve, wanting to grasp at something.

You’ve never felt so desperate to get Jason even closer and he must have understood or he craved it more because he pushed you back against the elevator wall. You felt the cold metal against your back and you gasped.

Jason devoured the sound, motivating him to hold your waist, but it wasn’t enough for him. He crouched a little lower to grasp you behind your legs to lift you fully off the ground, inching your body up, higher and more level with his face.

The angle changed and you easily wrapped your arms around his neck while simultaneously wrapping your legs around his waist. The moment intensifying as you pulled at his hair below his hat and you swallowed the low groan that left his mouth. You were drawn to the deep sound and the feeling of the hum you felt on your mouth.

You were practically flush against his body and you were down to your last few breaths, but you didn’t want to pull your face away from Jason.

You nipped at his lower lip and he lifted his hands to cup the sides of your face, digging his fingers into your sweaty hair and rubbing the back of your ears. You opened your mouth wanting to feel more of him when you heard someone loudly clear their throat.

You pulled away, shoving Jason by his shoulders as he whipped his head to see where the voice came from. You fell to your feet trying to lean against the wall with the sudden motion, hair a mess with your cap lopsided as you looked past Jason to see Dick standing there with a hand on his waist and the other holding the elevator door open. He didn’t look at the two of you directly, more like a lost look to the side.

You breathlessly adjusted your cap as you frantically smoothed out your shirt.

Jason pulled his cap down as he sighed then redirected his attention to you, gently reaching out to you to smooth out some of your hair and help you stand up straighter. Then he grabbed the bags you both dropped on the floor as he turned around to face his brother.

“I didn’t know you were coming over. You should’ve texted.” Jason walked past his brother, annoyance laced in his voice.

“I did.” Dick replied. He looked at you then followed after Jason. “But it seems you were a little occupied.” Amusement coating his voice and visible in the way he walked.

“I see you’re getting to know your neighbors very well.” Dick teased, a giant grin on his face. “I’m glad.”

What a way to meet Jason’s brother again after all this time. You wanted the floor to open up and swallow you away from the lack of awareness you had to make out with Jason in public.

You couldn’t decide if it was worse that a stranger could’ve saw you or that Dick was the one who did.

“Yeah, yeah, come inside.” Jason unlocked the door to his apartment. You nervously followed after the two.

“No seriously, I’m glad you two continued to see each other.” A genuine comment from Dick. “I’ve never seen you so comfortable with someone, Jaybird.”

A small hum from Jason as he set the bags down onto the counter.

With no indication that he wanted to speak further, you decided to talk.

“I’m sorry we’re meeting again like this. I promise I’m usually a better influence.” Hopefully your lighthearted tone would give off a better impression than the one on the elevator.

“Ha! I know you are because,” Dick moved in closer, lowering his voice. “This is the most behaved I’ve seen Jason in months.”

“Alright, enough, dickwa—Dick,” Jason cleared his throat. “But we just got back and I want to shower. It was too damn hot today.”

“Oh, I bet it was—“

“Thank you! Never come by again. See you. Good Night.” Jason raised his voice, shoving his brother out the door.

“No, please, I swear I’m done!” Dick pleaded as he was trying to hang onto the door frame, but Jason closed the door before he could start to beg.

“Are you sure he’ll be alright?” You questioned Jason.

He didn’t bother to answer your question as he closed the space between you and wrapped his arms around you, resting his forehead on your shoulder and letting his hands intertwine around your waist, falling onto your lower back.

Jason signed into your shirt. The feeling slightly tickling you.

“I wasn’t done earlier.” He whispered against you. “Then that dickhead had to interrupt.”

You laughed, loving the pouty sound of his voice.

You embraced him back, leaning your head against his.

“I think the elevator interrupted you.” You rubbed his back in soothing circles.

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting a silence fall in Jason’s apartment before your curiosity got to you.

“Jaybird?”

“It’s a nickname.”

“It’s cute.”

“Enough about him, we need to put away all the stuff we bought.” Jason lifted his head to sullenly look at the numerous bags.

“That reminds me.” You let go of him to dig around the bags, trying to find your earlier gift. “I was told to share this with you by an older woman who thought my boyfriend was adorable.”

Jason shifted behind you. Closing his hands on the edges of the counter, both of his arms on your sides. Once you found the lemon bar, you turned your body, careful to lean against the counter with Jason’s body still in front of you, around you practically.

“It’s a new product. She said I could have it for making her day, but I have to thank you because we wouldn’t have gotten it without you.”

You opened the wrapper, breaking a piece off to feed to Jason.

“How does it taste?”

Jason lingered. You anticipated what he thought, but he leaned forward to kiss you. You held onto the lemon bar, but lowered it the more heated your kiss became. The tangy taste invading your mouth.

“Amazing.”

[its-avalon-08]

i love hearts intertwined. how did you think of that idea? like what was ur inspiration?? cause its hella creative props to u also can i ask for a y/n x oscar piastri where oscar gets jealous about how close you are to lando since you both grew up together. he gets all cold and distant. he starts ignoring you. you brush it off for a few days but it gets too much. he hears you cry to lando over the phone and he rushes in in tears to apologize. make it angsty with happy ending

hi! thanks for all ur support!! as for how i come up with ideas, i just think about what i would like to read and then i just get started by brainstorming on how i want to write them. as for "hearts intertwined" i have been loving the idea of rosberg!sister falling for lewis because it has all the tropes ever (brothers (ex) best friend, enemies to lovers, rivals, friends to enemies to strangers to lovers)! anyway here's your story! hope you enjoy!

my heart hurts (op81)

the clinking of silverware and murmur of conversation filled the bustling restaurant. you and oscar had finally snagged a quiet corner table after a long day of practice. across from you, lando held court, recounting a hilarious story from your childhood.

"and then, there was the great custard incident," lando boomed, his laughter echoing. "remember, (y/n), when you-"

you doubled over, giggling. "oh my god, lando, don't!" heat rose to your cheeks at the memory, a childhood prank that involved a particularly disgruntled neighbor and a runaway bowl of dessert.

oscar, however, remained silent, his fork poised mid-air, a frown creasing his forehead. he watched you, his gaze lingering a little too long on the way your laughter lines crinkled around your eyes, the way your hand brushed against lando's arm playfully as you swatted him away.

lando, thankfully, oblivious to the undercurrent, continued, "and there you were, covered in custard, trying to explain to mrs. henderson it was just a... 'culinary experiment'."

you snorted, tears welling up in your eyes. "god, i miss those days." you reached out, bumping fists with lando playfully. "thanks for always having my back, even when i was a disaster."

a beat of uncomfortable silence followed. lando, finally noticing oscar's stony expression, cleared his throat. "right, well, enough about the past. oscar, how's the car feeling this week?"

oscar forced a smile, his tone clipped. "good. ready to take on the track." his gaze flickered back to you, a flicker of something akin to hurt in his eyes before he turned back to his plate, pushing the food around with a distinct lack of appetite.

the rest of the meal was strained. you tried including oscar in the conversation, but his responses were short, devoid of his usual easy banter. you stole worried glances at him, the carefree joy of your reunion with lando now tinged with a growing sense of unease.

as you exited the restaurant, lando clapped oscar on the shoulder. "good luck this weekend, mate. you'll smash it."

oscar mumbled a response, his eyes glued to the ground. the walk back to your apartment was filled with a suffocating silence. you knew, with a sickening certainty, that the carefree evening you envisioned had taken a sharp turn into jealousy lane

the silence in the car was deafening. oscar, usually a chatterbox during drives, hadn't uttered a word since leaving the restaurant. you kept glancing at him, his jaw clenched, eyes fixed on the road ahead. "what's wrong, oscar?" you finally asked, your voice barely a whisper.

he shrugged, not meeting your gaze. "nothing." but his tone was clipped, a stark contrast to his usual warmth.

his hand did not hover near your thigh, he didn't kiss you at the red lights, he didn't ask if you were cold with the AC. oscar had shut himself out.

over the next few days, "nothing" became your new normal. oscar became a ghost, barely acknowledging you. you'd catch him staring at you, then quickly look away. calls and texts went unanswered. you tried brushing it off, clinging to the hope it was just race week jitters, but the sinking feeling in your gut wouldn't budge. while sleeping he would mummer a goodnight and barely cuddle,

tonight, the dam broke. curled on the couch, tears blurring your vision, you dialed lando. "he's just being weird, lan," you choked out, your voice thick with unshed tears. "like, distant. like i don't even exist. i can't lose him lan, i really can't. but i'll leave if he wants because i just want him to be happy. even if it means its not with me"

suddenly, the front door slammed open. you flinched, dropping the phone. oscar stood frozen, his face pale, your tear-streaked cheeks a stark picture in the dim light. he had heard everything.

"(y/n), i..." his voice cracked, a battle raging in his eyes. before he could finish, a fresh wave of tears welled up. "oscar, what did i do?"

he took a shaky step towards you, then stopped. "i am so so so so so sorry baby." the confession tumbled out, raw and laced with shame. "i regret what i did. it hurt my heart being away from you. on purpose. seeing you with lando, so close... it made me jealous."

you stared at him, bewildered. "jealous? oscar, lando's practically my brother. we grew up together!"

he ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "i know, i know. it's stupid. but seeing you laugh with him, the laugh you kept just for me..." his voice trailed off, heavy with regret.

a choked sob escaped your lips. "oscar, you're the one i love. the way i look at lando, it's nothing compared to you." you stood up, tears falling freely.

he mirrored your movement, his face etched with pain. "i messed up, (y/n). i let my insecurities cloud everything." his voice broke. "can you forgive me?"

you threw your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. he held you tight, his body trembling.

"just promise me," you whispered, pulling back slightly, "a) you'll tell me when something bothers you and b) you'll never let jealousy come between us again."

he cupped your face, his eyes filled with newfound resolve. "never. you and lando, your friendship is beautiful. i'll never take that away." he leaned in, his kiss a promise whispered against your lips.

the following days were filled with apologies, laughter, and tentative rebuilding. oscar apologized to lando, acknowledging his insecurities. you realized communication, even the uncomfortable kind, was the key.

that sunday, as you watched oscar race, a different kind of excitement bubbled within you. it wasn't just about his victory, but the fact that you had weathered the storm, emerging stronger as a couple. the bond you shared, forged in vulnerability and love, was a trophy far more valuable than any podium finish.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

well i hope you liked it! thank you for sending in your request and do send more <3 happy reading!

leave a like! leave a note!

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

where’s your doppelgänger? | s.r. x liaison!fem reader

you could never memorize the train system, no matter how many years you’ve taken it. you’ll be stuck staring at the maps for twenty minutes and not remember which way leads uptown. but when you’re with spencer you could be blissfully tugged along as he seamlessly weaves through the crowds of commuters, making sure you’re tucked close to his back.

“so we’re gonna take the red line up to jefferson street then the green line all the way to apple road.” both of you stood near the back of the platform, watching strangers scurry like ants to and fro this afternoon.

“that guy reminds me of hotch,” leaning in close to spencer’s side as you pointed a subtle finger towards the well dressed man. his dark hair was nearly combed, his navy blue suit was well pressed and his posture was stick straight while he held a book in one hand.

“could be his doppelgänger. statistically everyone should have one to three look a likes. your eyes see the person you know but also identify the new traits that form the other face, helping you separate the two.” his mouth spewing out these facts easily from his lips as you gazed his profile.

an unclear intercom announced something just as your first train pulled into its platform. spencer lead both of you to a pair of forward facing seats, you beside the window and him next to the walkway. “should take twenty minutes if uninterrupted,” spencer estimated.

the first few minutes neither spoke, just let the noisy tracks sing their song. “what do you think your other selves are doing?” shoulders bumping into each other with the swaying of the cart.

spencer’s thumb rubbed along your knuckles as your joined digits sat atop his thigh. “maybe one got to fulfill my childhood dream.” his low voice got particularly swallowed from a loud screech. you leaned in a bit closer and raised your voice to ask, “which is?”

spencer ducked his chin to his chest as he mumbled and you had to ask for him to repeat it. “a- a cowboy,” his eyes partially catching yours.

you couldn’t help the coo that slipped free, “now that would be a sight.” softly giggling at the pastel hue warming spencer’s cheeks. that caused spencer to chuckle sheepishly, “yeah. don’t think i’d be hired.” nervously he scratched behind his ear.

you let your eyes trail over his pointed features, “loved to see you in a hat though. bet you’ll look ever dashing.” freely flirting and enjoying the flushed pink on his apples under the fluorescent lights.

“what about your second one?” nudging his knee to redirect the conversation. spencer hummed in thought, the wheels filled most of the noise along with someone sneezing and a baby giving a small whine. “maybe a professor, like my mom. but i think my intelligence with all my doppelgänger’s would be lower than mine.”

“pure perfection as your mother would say.” giving a squeeze to his hand as your bodies moved with the stopping train. spencer lead both of you out and towards the second train, “got about five minutes before it arrives.” he lead both of you to a bench.

“i kinda wish one of my doppelgängers is living somewhere peacefully in europe. always a small dream of mine that i don’t know when i’ll ever peruse.” letting your mouth speak your thoughts openly. you leaned your head against spencer shoulder, a dreamy gaze filtering over the well maintained but still slightly dirty subway.

“i think one of yours would be a florist. probably somewhere in italy where many people visit you.” spencer spoke softly as he gave your joined hands a slight sway. both of you just tucked away into shadow as you wait.

“lovers would buy bouquets and friends would buy singles. family’s would buy many vases and i would wonder if it’s for something happy or somber. i’ll get to see small glimpses of people’s lives or make my own story for them.” creating this alternative world that you personally could live, or someone similar to you is living life in the present.

“another one could possibly be a journalist, or you’ll still be a liaison, just in a different department. you’re very good at dealing with the press, talking with people sincerely. you’d always make sure the pure truth was told and- what?”

spencer stopped talking as his eyes locked with yours, his brows scrunching at the front. “did- did i say something?”

you could feel your lips stretching into a lovesick smile as you stared at your boyfriend. “i- i just really wanna kiss you, but we’re in public and i know how you feel about pda-“

“i’ll allow it this time.” “…wait, really?”

spencer smiled shyly, “yeah. besides i know you’re not gonna jump me here. a kiss isn’t bad.” he just shrugged as his eyes bounced around.

with your free left hand your palm cupped spencer’s cheek to turn his face in your direction. “i love you a lot, like a crazy amount.” letting your thumb smooth the skin under his eye. you leaned in quickly to press your lips to spencer’s, staying for a moment then pulling away just as you hear the screeching of wheels on tracks.

“best get moving before they leave without us.” taking the lead on moving the two of you onto the chariot towards your museum date.

[hannieehaee]

Svt as tropes

seventeen as tropes

content: crushes, fluff, some of these are idol!aus (as in the member is an idol, not reader), etc.

wc: 884

a/n: these are just tropes that come to mind when i think of each member. i tried to keep it varied and original <3

masterlist

seungcheol -

enemies to lovers - he seems like he can be maybe a lil bit cocky at times (with reason, i mean have you seen him ..), so i think itd be possible to start off the wrong foot with him. he's also pretty stubborn, so pair with him another stubborn individual and you have a dragged out love story that begins with rivals and ends with a very fiery relationship.

jeonghan -

coworkers to lovers - jeonghan seems like an extremely charming and interesting guy who doesnt even have to try. im 100% sure people who work around him fall for him every single day. i think he'd be very entertained by the idea of crushing on a staff member/coworker. it would make him look forward to work and make him always seek you out while on the job.

joshua -

childhood friends to lovers - he seems the type that would keep a special someone in his heart for a very long time, even if it was just as friends. leaving his home country so young, the distance would make him realize his feelings and end up with that one special person from back home.

jun -

arranged marriage - okay not exactly arranged marriage but more so him being with someone his parents introduce him to! he seems to be a huge family oriented guy, so i see him ending up with someone his parents may have thought would be perfect for him. it'd start off as him giving it a chance to please his parents but ending up actually falling for this person.

soonyoung -

sunshine vs. grump - this concept isnt necessarily 100% black and white to me. but still i think maybe he would fall for someone who has a very contrasting personality his very positive and over the top demeanor. he'd enjoy the back and forth in which he'd act ridiculously to get his s/o to react while they pretended to be annoyed by him.

wonwoo -

long distance - idk if this is a trope ?? but i think wonwoo's love absolutely transcends any and every obstacle imaginable. i think he would be the definition of distance makes the heart grow fonder. he would cherish every single moment he got to be with you, constantly yearning for you any second he was away from you.

jihoon -

opposites attract - as someone who seems to keep to himself a lot and is a bit of a homebody, i think he would easily fall for someone who got him out of his comfort zone and got him to discover parts of himself he didnt know about before. would adore an s/o who was louder in nature and livelier, feeling some sort of nurturing sense in him come out whenever he was around them.

seokmin -

friends to lovers - its a classic for a reason! i cant understand how people dont constantly fall for seokmin but im 100% sure that if he had a crush on a friend of his, he would easily be able to charm them enough for them to reciprocate the crush. there would be a period of time of that cute back and forth in which he tried to 'court' them, ending up together in the end.

mingyu -

chance encounter - watching nana tour ive loved seeing how insanely outgoing and likable by strangers he is so i think that he would be the type to incidentally meet a person and subsequently fall for them. however, mingyu is a hopeless romantic so he wouldnt allow for this to be his one and only meeting. he would go to hell and back to reconnect.

minghao -

language barrier - ok ik this isnt actually a trope but i really do see minghao taking interest in a person who doesnt speak his language. i think that if a foreigner (in this case someone who does not speak korean or chinese) caught his attention, he would not be deterred by the language barrier and still seek them out. he would maybe even be more intrigued by the concept of communicating despite the barrier.

seungkwan -

found family - seungkwan is one of the sweetest and most likable people alive. im sure there's tons of people out there who consider him part of their found family. i think he'd be the type to become super close with that special someone (to the point of considering them as precious as his own family) only to eventually fall for them (and have them fall right back bc i mean its boo so how would you not fall for him!).

vernon -

class difference - i really see him falling for someone who's not in the industry. just someone who is an average person with an average life. this would obviously come with its complications, but i think he would enjoy the contrast between your lives and would live a regular life through your own.

chan -

mutual pining - contrary to popular opinion, i believe chan has insane rizz. however! i think he would be the type to have negative rizz when he has a crush on someone. he's still impossible to not fall for though, so this would lead to him and his future s/o to pine for each other for years, not realizing that their friendship could be more if one of then would just step up and confess.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // ONE

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: You meet Mai, Ty Lee, and Prince Zuko.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.6k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: this is my first ever attempt at writing for atla despite how long ago i watched it and how much i’ve written since then HAHAH. tbh i don’t expect much to come of it but oh well we’ll see how it goes!! also this is an alternate universe — the extent of which things have been changed will become more apparent as we go along. also apologies in advance if anyone is ooc, i haven’t watched atla in forever so idk if i’ll get it right!

There was a pile of glass on the nightstand when you woke up. It glimmered in the light, the fire refracting on the shards and forming tiny little rainbows on the wooden floor. Rusty streaks stained the faceted tips, though, and you winced as you tried to imagine how that quantity of blood could’ve made its way there.

“It’s yours,” a girl said. You startled, for you hadn’t noticed her presence, but it seemed like that had been her plan. She stood in the corner, her clothes a dull maroon, her hair glossy black and eyes a sharp, dark shade. Her lips were pressed into a thin line as she regarded you, but her face was otherwise smooth, betraying nothing.

“Mine?” you said, voice cracking from disuse. “What do you mean? The — the blood?”

“And the glass,” she affirmed. “In some sense, anyways. Some of the pieces, we had to pull out of you, and others were apparently just lying around where you were found. At least, that’s what Zuko said. I’m still not quite sure why he went and collected it all to bring back, though…”

You squinted at the glass, trying to find some familiarity in it, but there was none. You had no idea why you would be surrounded by it, nor why it would be embedded in you. The girl waited for a second, but when you did not speak, she scoffed.

“Sorry,” you said automatically.

“We’ve been waiting for you to wake up for so long,” she said, an accusatory note entering her voice. “Zuko refuses to say anything, and it’s not like we can bully the crown prince himself into telling us what happened, so you’ve been our only chance at figuring everything out.”

“Oh,” you said, a migraine building behind your forehead as you tried to go through the events that had led to your presence here, in this austere room, on this plush mattress. “I — I don’t know.”

“You don’t know,” she repeated drearily. “Wow.”

“I’m sorry,” you said again. “I really don’t. I’m telling the truth.”

In fact, you were rapidly coming to the conclusion that you didn’t know anything. Your childhood, your family, your home…there was nothing. Where your memories ought to be was a bleak stretch like night, barely interrupted by flashes of blue. You reached for that blue, for that lovely shade like sapphire, but it was always just out of your grasp, something you could never quite touch no matter how much you wanted to.

“How about I tell you what I know, and we go from there?” she said. You nodded, though you were only half paying attention to her. The rest of you was fighting back a panic that threatened to twist your insides, a dread that was rotting through you, both sensations borne from the fear that you would never remember anything again.

“Prince Zuko was banished from the Fire Nation and told only to return once he found the Avatar,” she said. “He found him eventually, found him many times in fact, but he wasn’t able to capture him. It’s irrelevant, though — he did do something just as impossible. That is to say, he infiltrated Ba Sing Se.”

You thought that you were probably supposed to be awed by this, but considering you had zero idea what any of it meant, you just felt further confused. Still, you smiled at her, hoping she would keep talking until something or another made sense.

“Fire Lord Ozai couldn’t ignore the opportunity. He sent an army to the prince’s aid, and under his command, they managed to destroy the Earth Palace and depose the royal family. The Earth Kingdom’s in shambles, and all but the most secretive resistance efforts have vanished,” the girl, who had still not introduced herself, continued.

“I don’t see what this has to do with me,” you said, ducking your head.

“Neither do the rest of us,” she said. “That’s what you were supposed to know. For some reason, the fact is that upon returning from Ba Sing Se, the prince had your body in tow. You were wrapped in so many bandages we couldn’t tell what you were at first, and then we thought you must be closer to a corpse than anything, but he insisted you were alive, and that we had to heal you.”

“The prince himself did such a thing?” you said. Even you understood what the magnitude of that title meant, what kind of person a prince was bound to be. And if that was the case, if this mysterious Zuko really was the prince of an entire nation, then why would he have sullied his victory with care for the brutalized body of a random girl?

“He did,” the girl said. “It was the first thing he saw to. Not the reclamation of his crown, but that you were being treated with the best technologies the Fire Nation has to offer. Don’t you think it’s strange? Worthy of investigation? Don’t you agree that we should be curious about what significance you have?”

“Yes, um, naturally,” you said, taken aback by the rapid-fire line of questioning. Despite her initially bland facade, she was surprisingly intense, relentless, even, the stark contrast between the two personalities enough to make you curl inwards.

“Maybe he loves you,” she said, narrowing her eyes at you, inspecting you critically. “I suppose it’d certainly be an explanation, though it wouldn’t give us any clues about who you are or why he might love you in the first place.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you said, shifting in your seat uncomfortably. “I don’t even know my own name, let alone whether I was in love with someone.”

“Don’t even know your own name?” the girl said, raising her eyebrows. “You really are pathetic. I’m impressed.”

“I can’t remember anything specific about my life. I know general things, of course. The color of the sky. The way the moon looks. But the history of the world, my own existence…these are things I cannot recall,” you said.

She appraised you with the beginnings of something like sympathy flickering in her irises. Clenching her jaw and deciding upon something, she straightened her back and turned to the door.

“I should tell Zuko you’re awake,” she said. “That’s what he told us to do, the instant you regained consciousness. I’ve put it off long enough.”

“Wait!” you said. “What’s your name?”

She glanced at you over her shoulder. You blinked at her, willing her to understand — that before you could meet this prince, you had to know something. Even if it was only as small as this girl’s name, you wanted to have at least one thing in your head, a word or other such piece of knowledge that you could cling to, that you could form a barrier around your mind with.

“Mai,” she said. She did not elaborate before slamming the door shut behind her, but it was enough for you. There was this one constant now — you knew a girl, and her name was Mai.

As you waited for Mai to return with the prince, you busied yourself with inspecting the room you were quartered in. You had mistakenly called it austere due to the lack of decorations hung up, but now that you had the chance to look closely, you noticed that the wall itself was covered with intricate, swirling designs engraved by a firm, steady hand. The blanket that had been drawn up around your shoulders and was now puddled around your hips was made of silk and stuffed with feathers, and its quality was such that it all but shimmered. This was not the kind of room that just anybody stayed in; it was a room fit for someone of high rank. A lady. And a lady you were not, yet here you sat, in this room that made you feel entirely out of place.

Only a few minutes had passed before the door slammed open, but it was not Mai nor any sort of prince who entered. It was another girl, as bubbly and cheery as Mai had been cool and collected. She beamed when she saw you sitting up and looking around, bounding over to place her hands on your shoulders.

“Hi! Hi, hi, I’m so glad you’re awake!” she said. You tried to smile back at her, but the exuberance was so jarring that you could not do anything but brace yourself against it.

“Thank you,” you managed to say as she shook you. “Who are you?”

“Ty Lee!” she said. You noticed that she had a habit of ending every sentence with her voice ticking up in delight, like she was perpetually thrilled with the world. It was even more of a contrast to Mai than you had anticipated, and you felt your head spinning as you tried to keep up with the differences.

“Did I know you before?” you said. She cocked her head.

“Huh? No, I have no idea who you are, just like you have no idea who I am. You sure are pretty, though! Even prettier when you’re not all passed out,” she said, miming fainting before beaming at you expectantly. You tried to laugh, but it was an awkward sound, clearly unconvincing.

“The same to you,” you said. “Er. Obviously, aside from the part about passing out.”

“Obviously!” she said. “Now, just stay very still, okay?”

You froze in place immediately, wondering what she was going to do but trusting that it would not be anything harmful. Or, perhaps trusting wasn’t quite the right word for it — you just had no choice but to obey, because you had no other metric for what was correct. Whether Ty Lee wanted to help or harm you, you couldn’t know for sure, but either way she would do something, and since she was only the second person whose face you had seen, you had to let her do it.

She jabbed her pointer fingers into your neck, side, and wrists, all in a quick, precise succession. You waited for something to happen, but there was nothing, and when she raised her eyebrows at you, you could only furrow your own in a non-answer.

“Felt nothing?” she said. You nodded in the affirmative. “Interesting.”

“Was I supposed to?” you said.

“I dunno!” she said. “I guess we’ll see once the others get here.”

“What do the others have to do with it?” you said. At this, she winked and raised her fingers to her lips, as if you two were sharing some silly secret.

“If I tell you, then that’ll ruin things! We can discuss it later, but for now, you have to keep it to yourself, okay?” she said.

“Why?” you said. It wasn’t accusatory; you were genuinely curious.

“Let’s just say that certain parties would not be pleased if they found out what I was doing,” she said, giggling nervously and glancing at the door. “And those parties aren’t the kind you really want to offend, so please just keep your mouth shut!”

“Don’t want to offend? Who, like Prince Zuko?” you said.

Before Ty Lee could respond, there was a knock at the door. She scrambled away from you, so that she was standing in the same corner Mai had been in, looking demure and respectful. It was like she had never spoken to you in the first place, and when she had arranged herself suitably, she motioned towards the door.

“Me?” you said.

“Yes, you!” she said. “It’s your room, isn’t it?”

“I would hardly know,” you reminded her. She considered this before making a face in agreement.

“Right, there is that fact. Anyways, yes. This isn’t a hospital wing or anything, it’s your room, which means that when someone knocks, it’s up to you to tell them if they can come in or not,” she said.

“You didn’t knock,” you said. Ty Lee cleared her throat.

“Ah, well, I’m from a Fire Nation family! People of higher rank are allowed to do things like barging in on others,” she said. “I can’t tell you the amount of times Princess Azula has stormed into my room without warning.”

“I see,” you said, mostly because you didn’t know who Princess Azula was or why she merited mention. “This must be a servant or something, then, considering they’re knocking on even my door.”

“Probably,” Ty Lee said. There was another knock, louder this time, and you swore under your breath as you realized you had forgotten to answer them.

“Come in!” you said, folding your hands in your lap and looking over at the doorway, wondering who it could possibly be.

To your surprise, it was a boy. He was dressed in fine armor, his dark hair tied back in a regal topknot, his features angular and his eyes a sharp gold. His face was set in a frown, but when he saw you, you thought you picked up on the faintest trace of happiness. Almost immediately, though, it was quashed by a scowl, so that you could not be quite sure if you had actually seen it or if you had just been imagining things.

Behind him was Mai, looking as bored as she had earlier, though she seemed marginally more excited to see Ty Lee than she had been when you had woken up. You supposed they must’ve been friends or something.

“You should bow,” Mai said, directing the statement at you.

“No way!” the boy said immediately, waving his hands in dissent before you could even move. “I mean, ah, she doesn’t have to do that. It’s fine.”

“Woah! That’s crazy, Zuko, normally you’re all about honor and tradition and whatnot!” Ty Lee said. “It’s strange to hear something like that coming from you.”

So this was Prince Zuko, the boy who had, for some reason, saved your life. He was the only one who knew anything about your past. Your name, your identity, your origin…if you wanted to know any of these things, then your best chance at finding them stood before you, gazing at you with an inscrutable expression.

“Your royal highness,” you said, not bothering to get out of bed but dipping your head in what you hoped was a sign of respect anyways. He coughed awkwardly.

“Um. Yes,” he said.

“So,” Mai observed from the spot she had taken beside Ty Lee, “she’s awake now.”

“I see that,” Prince Zuko said. Mai rolled her eyes.

“Will you tell us who she is? Or why you insisted on saving her, maybe?” she said.

“Why don’t you ask her?” he said. “She’d know as well as I would. Maybe better.”

“I already tried,” Mai said. The prince’s scowl deepened, the corners of his mouth tugging further downwards at the offhand statement, his eyes flicking to you before returning to Mai.

“Of course you did,” he said. “And what did she say?”

“Nothing,” Mai said.

“She doesn’t remember anything,” Ty Lee said. “Not even her own name. You’re the only one left who can tell us anything about her.”

Something in Prince Zuko’s demeanor shifted at that moment. A despairing anger warred with resignation and defeat, but below the surface, some other emotion was hidden, kept locked tightly away, something that he was suppressing, so that no one could dare to even attempt to comprehend it.

“I see,” he said. “Is that the case?”

He was asking you. You did not look at him when you responded, focusing on the pile of glass still stacked on the nightstand.

“Yes,” you said. “Your royal highness. It’s the case.”

Prince Zuko considered this, and for a moment, there was an eerie silence in the room, as you all waited to hear what he would say. Who were you? Would he finally disclose it, or would you be further stranded in the darkness?

“Ursa,” he said finally.

“Your mother?” Mai said. He shook his head.

“No, not her. It’s — um, it’s her. Her name,” he said, jutting his chin in your direction.

“She has the same name as your mother,” Mai said flatly.

“Yes,” he said.

Ursa. That was your name. You didn’t feel some great reclamation of your identity upon hearing it; in fact, it meant nothing to you, except that at some point, people must have called you that.

“Is that why you saved her?” Ty Lee said. “Because she has the same name as your mother?”

“Yeah,” he muttered under his breath. “That’s exactly why.”

“Really? We thought you might’ve been in love with her or something,” Mai said. “I guess this is in character enough, though.”

“How’d you find someone with a Fire Nation name in Ba Sing Se, though?” Ty Lee said. Prince Zuko gave her an irritated look; she only gazed at him innocently until he sighed and looked away.

“She had been taken prisoner on the front lines and brought to Ba Sing Se to be, er…tortured. For — for Fire Nation secrets,” he said.

“Why would they think an ordinary girl would have Fire Nation secrets?” Mai said.

“It’s not like Fire Nation citizens are easy to kidnap!” he snapped. “She might not know any vital information about the nation, but it was probably better than nothing!”

“Well, sorry for asking,” Mai said, rolling her eyes at him once again. It seemed her fuse was particularly shorter when it came to him, not that it had ever appeared to be particularly long to begin with.

“Do you think they got anything out of her?” Ty Lee said, in a not-so-subtle attempt to change the subject and break the tension. Prince Zuko pinched the bridge of his nose.

“It doesn’t matter, does it?” he said.

“I guess not. Not now that Ba Sing Se is ours and the rest of the Earth Kingdom has all but fallen,” Ty Lee said.

“Right. Even if they found out anything from her, it didn’t help them in the end,” he said.

“What should we do with her?” Ty Lee said. “Poor girl, she doesn’t even know her lefts from her rights!”

“Uh, I do know that much…” you interjected. Ty Lee paid you no mind, continuing to speak to Prince Zuko like you weren’t there.

“She can’t live in the palace like this forever!” she said. “But she’s like a blind little child, alone in the world. Where can she even go?”

Prince Zuko looked at you, and then he exhaled heavily. You swallowed, waiting for his judgment, knowing that he now held your life in his hands, wondering what he would decide, wondering what fate was in store for you. For Ursa. Since you both were one and the same, after all.

“Send her to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls. They’ll teach her what she needs to know to be a proper Fire Nation girl,” he said.

“She’s not a noblewoman, though,” Mai said.

“Do you think the headmistress will argue with me if I say I want her admitted?” Prince Zuko shot back, though there was a tinge of insecurity, a questioning undercurrent, like he really wasn’t sure if he would get away with it or not.

“Nope,” Ty Lee said. “But do you think she — Ursa — can handle it? I mean, we were there, right, Mai? You remember how it was.”

“It’s a tough environment,” Mai agreed. You could tell what she was thinking: what place did a girl who came to the palace covered in bandages and glass, in the arms of a once-banished prince, have in a royal academy? “She’ll be eaten alive there.”

“And what if someone challenges her to an Agni Kai?” Ty Lee said. “Do you think she could win that? Is she that good at bending?”

“She’s not a Firebender,” Prince Zuko said.

“Why was she on the front lines if she’s not even a Firebender?” Mai said before pausing. “Never mind. I don’t feel like listening to your dramatics when you explain. But, you know, she’ll struggle that much more without bending to protect her.”

Prince Zuko’s face settled into a pensive mask of thought before he lit up, brandishing his pointer finger as if he’d come up with the idea of the century. Mai did not look amused, though Ty Lee seemed fascinated by what he might say.

“Ty Lee! You ran away from school to join the circus, right?” he said. Ty Lee went from looking fascinated to nervous, but she nodded.

“Yes, but I’m back now, so I don’t know why you’re bringing that up,” she said.

“My sister doesn’t have any immediate need for you,” he said, eyes gleaming. “Maybe it’s time you finally finish your education for good.”

“You want me to go back to the Royal Fire Academy?” Ty Lee repeated. Prince Zuko nodded.

“Yes, that’s right. You can watch out for her,” he said, jabbing his pointer finger at you.

“What will Azula say?” Ty Lee said.

“It’ll be fine,” Mai said. “If she needs you, you can just take a vacation from school or something. It’s better that you do this than laze around the palace.”

“I don’t want to be a burden,” you said quietly, speaking up of your own volition for the first time. “To anyone. I’m just grateful that you saved me, Prince Zuko. The rest of it is unnecessary. You don’t need to force the royal academy to accept me, and you don’t need to make Ty Lee come just to watch out for me. It’s enough that I’m alive. I can make my own life from here.”

“You don’t know anything. How can you expect to make a new life when you don’t even remember the one you’ve had until this point?” he said.

“I suppose there might be some benefit to Ursa going to school,” Mai added. “As long as she can survive the academy, it’ll be good for her. She can get caught up on everything she doesn’t remember, and it’ll be in an environment where her classmates are the children of the Fire Nation elite, so she can make further connections with people in high places.”

“Maybe she can find someone who has a brother she can date!” Ty Lee said, swooning.

“No!” Prince Zuko said. You all gave him strange looks; when he noticed, he turned a red as bright as his garb. “It wouldn’t be proper. You know, since you’ll be attending in my name and all; if you date anyone, it’ll reflect on me. So you can only date the people I approve of.”

“Alright. If that’s what you think is best,” you said. The last thing you wanted was to make things difficult for the boy who had, by all accounts, saved your life.

“I do,” he said.

“Uh-huh,” Mai said from the corner. “You know, Ty Lee, this reminds me of when Azula took us to the zoo that one time.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess it does!” Ty Lee said, covering her mouth with her hand as she giggled.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Prince Zuko said.

“Is there a zoo nearby?” you said. “I don’t remember ever going to one. I’d like to visit, if it’s possible.”

“I’ll take you!” Ty Lee said. “When we have a break from school and classes and all.”

“So you’ll go with her?” Prince Zuko said. Ty Lee huffed.

“I don’t really have much of a choice, do I? Besides, I’m sure Azula will be happy to hear I’m pursuing my education in my downtime instead of just doing nothing. And you know I’d do anything to make her happy!” she said before cartwheeling over to where you were still situated in your bed, throwing her arms around you affectionately. “We’re going to be classmates, Ursa!”

“I look forward to it,” you said genuinely. Ty Lee tapped you on the forehead.

“Me too!” she said.

“You are?” Mai said. “I don’t remember you ever liking the school, Ty Lee.”

“I don’t,” she said, abruptly wilting. “Everyone was so mean there. But my parents will probably be happy, and at least I’ll get to spend more time with Ursa! Maybe I’ll be the only one around when she regains her memories, and I’ll get to hear her story in her own words first.”

“For the sake of the prince’s mental wellbeing, let’s hope that’s not the case,” Mai said. Prince Zuko did not even respond, too busy inspecting the glass on your bedside to rise to the barb.

“Fine, then,” he said. “Make sure she’ll have everything she needs to attend the academy.”

“Which one of us was that pleasantly worded command directed towards?” Mai said.

“Whichever one of you has the time to do it, I guess,” he said. “This is the glass that came with her?”

“Yes. On the subject, why’d you go and collect so much of it? What a waste of time that must’ve been,” Mai said.

“I don’t know,” Prince Zuko said, sweeping the glass into the small bag lying on the ground by the nightstand. “I thought it might be important in healing her or something. I mean, you know, how could the healers understand what they were pulling out of her unless they saw it?”

Mai did not seem to believe him, but to your surprise, she did not question him further on the topic, only nodding. Maybe she respected him just a bit more than you had thought, though considering your original hypothesis had not exactly been favorable for the prince, this didn’t mean much.

“Where are you taking that?” she said instead, motioning towards the bag. “To dispose of it?”

“Yeah,” Prince Zuko said. “I’ll have it taken to the incinerator.”

You felt a twinge in your stomach. “Do you have to?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he said.

“That glass is my only link to who I was before. Even if it was a bad memory, at least that memory was mine,” you explained. “I — I know it’s strange, but I feel like if you destroy it, you’ll destroy me, in some sense.”

“Ursa…” Ty Lee said, helplessly sympathetic, grasping your hands in her own. “It’s just glass. It can’t tell you anything about yourself, besides the fact that you were hurt during the fall of Ba Sing Se.”

“Your royal highness,” you beseeched Prince Zuko, who shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably at the title. “I know you have already done so much for me, so it is in bad taste for me to ask you for another favor, but please do not send that glass to be burnt away. Please save it. At least until I remember why it was there in the first place.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. “It’s waste material. Nothing good will come of you keeping it. Nothing at all will.”

“I just—” you began before breaking off. “Never mind. I’m sorry for asking.”

“Zuko, maybe you should just do it,” Mai said.

“Leave it, Mai,” Ty Lee said. “He’s made up his mind. Even we can’t change it once he’s like this.”

Both of them looked at him, but he only picked up the bag and tucked it under his arm.

“I’m leaving now,” he said. “Don’t come after me.”

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving you alone in the room with Mai and Ty Lee. Both of them seemed sorry, and actually, unlike what you had expected, Mai was the first to speak up.

“I’m sorry, Ursa,” she said. “He’s always been the temperamental sort.”

“It’s okay,” you said, still unused to being referred to as Ursa, even if it was the name you had supposedly bore for your entire life. “He and Ty Lee are right, after all. It’s just glass. Trash. What use could I really derive from something like that? If that’s all that’s left of my old life, then maybe I’m better off not remembering at all.”

“You don’t really believe that,” Mai said. “But if it makes you feel better, we won’t argue, right, Ty Lee?”

“Hm? No, we won’t,” Ty Lee said.

“What’s gotten you all distracted?” Mai said. Ty Lee shook her head.

“It’s nothing. By the way, can you help me pack for the academy? I’m worried I’ll forget something,” she said.

“That, or you want me to do it all for you,” Mai said.

“I wouldn’t ask you to do that!” Ty Lee said.

“I’m just joking,” Mai said, but since her voice remained that same steady deadpan, it was hard to tell. “Yes, I’ll help you, and I’ll get things ready for Ursa, too. That way she can leave as soon as Zuko gets her admitted into the academy. Let’s be honest — the sooner she can get out of here, the better.”

“That’s true,” Ty Lee said, though when she noticed your downcast expression, she rushed to reassure you. “Don’t feel bad!”

“It’s not a problem. I understand; you’ve already wasted so much time and so many resources on taking care of me. It’s only logical that you’d want me gone,” you said.

“It’s not like that,” Mai said. “There’s just people in this palace that you’d be better off never meeting. It’ll be good if you can get out before you have that displeasure. That’s all.”

“I see,” you said. “Then thank you once again for doing your best to look out for me.”

“We’ll leave you alone for a bit,” she said. “I’m sure this has all been a lot to process, so it’ll be good for you to come to terms with it on your own time.”

“Bye, Ursa! See you soon!” Ty Lee said.

“Bye,” you said, though your farewell was lacking much of her cheer. Even if Mai was right, you didn’t really want to sit alone. You had nothing to think about or do in the solitude, so what good would you gain from it? But you could hardly beg them to stay, not when you did not know them and they did not know you, so you only watched as they left you sitting by yourself in silence.

It was only when the moon was high in the sky that your door creaked open once more. You were still awake — you had been having trouble getting to sleep, so you had tentatively begun to walk around your room, testing your legs, familiarizing yourself with the motions of walking once more. When you heard footsteps, though, you immediately grew still, hoping that the visitor would be someone you recognized and not someone with more nefarious intentions.

You had been expecting, or perhaps hoping, that it would be Mai or Ty Lee, but to your surprise, it was Prince Zuko. He was not wearing armor, and his hair was loose and messy around his face, but there was no doubt that it was him.

“How much do you really remember?” he said without formality or even a greeting. “Hey. Tell me the truth, at least.”

“What do you mean?” you said. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“I mean, have you really forgotten everything?” he said.

“Yes,” you said. “There’s nothing but a vast darkness whenever I try to look back at the time before I woke up here. I don’t remember a single thing about myself. I didn’t even know my name until you said it.”

He cocked his head at you, trying to discern if you were being truthful, and eventually he must’ve come to some conclusion, because he just buried his face in his hands.

“Okay,” he said.

“Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?” you said.

“It depends on who you’re asking,” he said. “And if you’re telling the truth.”

“I am!” you said.

“I believe you,” he said.

“Well…” you said. “There is one thing. Sometimes, in between the darkness, I’ll see something blue. I don’t know what it might represent, but I know that it’s there. It’s the only other thing I can recall — that precise shade like jewel-paint.”

“That could be anything,” he said.

“Yes, I know that,” you said. “That’s why I wouldn’t have even mentioned it ordinarily. Maybe something important to me was that color, or maybe there was just a blue tapestry on the wall where I was injured. There’s no concrete explanation, but I wanted you to know the full truth.”

“So that’s it, then,” he said.

“I suppose it is. On another subject, do you really mean to have me attend the Royal Fire Academy for Girls?” you said.

“You’ve already been accepted,” he said. “You’ll go. It’ll be alright.”

“Mai and Ty Lee didn’t seem to think so,” you said.

“You’re stronger than both of them, by far,” he said. “If they survived, you will, too.”

“Yet I’m the one that was captured,” you reminded him. “I don’t see how that makes me the stronger between us.”

A ghost of a smile flashed over his face. “You may not believe it, but at least to me, you are.”

“Did you know me very well, then, to be saying that with such confidence?” you said. “Before you found me that day? Were — were we friends?”

You didn’t want to say anything else, for it seemed presumptuous, but friends was close enough to what you were really asking that you figured the prince would understand.

It seemed that he did, but he did not appreciate the implication, for his face closed off and his posture grew withdrawn. Turning away from you, he pursed his lips.

“No,” he said. “We weren’t anything. You didn’t know me, and I didn’t know you. I only saved you because — because you and my mother share a name. That’s all.”

“It’s strange,” you said. “That name doesn’t even feel like it’s my own. Is it the amnesia that causes such a phenomenon?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “But you shouldn’t overthink it. Have fun at the Royal Fire Academy, Ursa. I’ll give you a messenger hawk; write to me frequently. And — and if you remember anything…”

“If I remember anything?” you prodded.

“Tell me first,” he said. “Not Ty Lee. Not anyone else. Me.”

[st4rbe0m]

PAIRING ▸ Choi Yeonjun x reader

SUMMARY ▸ On a hazy summer evening, where the air hung low above everyone like a buzzing, heated static, you met Choi Yeonjun in a new light. And he met you, not for the first time maybe, but definitely in a more impacting way. A second, first meeting. And with that second, first meeting came the idea to strike a deal - a mutual agreement to help both parties out favorably, till the end of summer. Luckily, or unluckily, it just so happens that the summer doesn't last forever.

GENRE ▸ strangers to lovers, highschool au, fake dating au, suggestive scenes, includes kissing, jock Yeonjun, kinda nerdy (?) reader (they're friends with Soobin and Beomgyu if that helps), fluff with angst, includes underage drinking and swearing.

PLAYLIST ▸ High School in Jakarta by NIKI, I Like Me Better by Lauv, Bubble Gum by NewJeans, Ghosting by TXT, Ditto by NewJeans, small town by Clara Benin.

WC ▸ 12.9K words

A/N ▸ She's finally here 😭🥹 I'm quite proud of this one guys. It's loosely based off my own high school relationship (which unfortunately, didn't end as great as this fic did). It's also my first time writing such a long story, and I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it, and please do let me know how you guys felt about it. Love you!!

PART OF THE ANTHOLOGY SERIES

The world as you know it is ending. There’s meteors and asteroids crashing down, balls of fire and smoke rapidly descending on your world. The world you’d built since middle school. 

Not the world as we know it, of course. No, the world with its 8 billion population and sprawling cities and countries wasn’t coming to an end - but it was your world, with its own islands and own niches coming down to debris rapidly. 

Your world meant the things you did - it meant how you stayed up all night on school nights to play Minecraft with Soobin and Beomgyu, your two closest friends since childhood. It means the music you listened to. Usually that included whatever preppy tune that used to overtake the charts. The One Direction boys’ perfect harmonies were all the rage of 2014. Justin Bieber had the hearts of young girls by the fist. But that was middle school. That was 2014, which ended a few months ago. 2015 was the incoming year of the new batch of freshmen in their town’s high school. 2015, and there’s new artists and new bands and new games. It’s 2015 and the world you crafted with wide-eyed dreams and glitter pens is over, and the swooping lurch of reality hits you square in the chest just as the summer heat settles over everyone. 

The First Summer - summer before freshman year 

“Soobin, can you pay attention maybe? Fucking hell.” Beomgyu’s loud usually. Beomgyu’s louder when irritated however. And today he decided to be loud, irritated and angry, and the unnecessary screaming match between Soobin and Beomgyu was just the strike of the match of patience you had needed. “Enough!” Seriously, if you’re gonna fight this much, just beat each other up! I’d rather have you both in battle than this silly screaming match.” Your voice is shrill and the annoyance is heavy. Yet, it does nothing to affect the pair. Instead, all they did was give short laughs. “You can’t shout at us like that you '', the pouty eyes and whining tone of Beomgyu softened you up immediately, and you grinned back with a retaliation ready. “Beomgyu, let Soobin text his sweetheart next door, or else he’ll wilt like a plant deprived of sunlight.” The statement leaves the both of you in a fit of giggles the moment the entire sentence left your lips, and left Soobin to be the pouting one this time. “What do you both even know? To be in love with someone?”, the dramatics were oozing off Soobin, the sore subject of his very strong feeling for his next door neighbor making him more susceptible to teasing from you and Beomgyu. “And what do you know? You haven’t confessed either!”, accusatory, as you told him. It would be wonderful, absolutely delightful for Soobin to pull up his big boy pants and finally ask the other girl out. Not only because they’d make a delightful couple, but also because maybe he’d shut up about the qualms of unrequited (which honestly was quite requited if he just stopped being so blind) love. 

“How’s the existential crisis popping along, you? Are we still the lamest duo you could hang out with that will kill your nonexistent street cred?”. Chucking a throw pillow at the boy, you sighed, the dramatics being your concern now. “You guys don’t get it, do you? This is highschool. The real deal. The next four years of people’s cherished memories.” “You want to peak in highschool badly, don’t you?” “Shut up Soobin!”

They wouldn’t get it. They wouldn’t get how highschool mattered to you. How being 15, then 17, then 18 happens only once in life. You’re young in love as a teenager once, and you’re living life on the cusp only one. Romanticizing highschool was a silly cliche, and you were by no means a daydreaming romantic (Eh, maybe sometimes). But living, to experience, to feel, to love, meant something to you. It meant something to the little girl who watched those romcoms in the darkness of her room on a blue light screen. Watching how wonderful guys fell in love with wonderful girls. Watching how the boy loved the girl regardless of status quo. High School was a lake and you were a small pebble ready to skim its surface with accuracy and precision. 

“Are you Machiavelli or something? Stop making that scheming face, seriously. It’s giving me the creeps I’ll be honest. This just resulted in another pillow to the face.

The summer heat, a slow wave of buzzing energy that rolled over the entire town, made most of its residents lethargic. But lethargy wasn’t an option for 15 year olds, especially 15 year olds in the Y/L/N household. Several nags and a good scolding from your mother had you working at the convenience store two blocks down. A job that you were certain of, might just be the first of its kind in the way it could kill the employee of boredom. “At least you get the AC. And us!”. Huening Kai was an absolutely wonderful person. Honestly, there was no way to say anything negative according to you, which made Taehyun roll his eyes often. The two boys would frequent the store often. The first day because Kai was craving an ice pop to battle the heat. But once the pair had seen you prettily working the register all by your lonesome, and the boys not having anything interesting to while away their time with, began to visit you on your shifts, eating the almost expired stock and chitchatting. 

Even from the corny sentence Kai had just said, you could only bring herself to frown, but not get annoyed at the sunshine boy. The summer reinvention was in full swing. Calling it a reinvention made you uncomfortable sometimes. It was just a few tweaks right? It’s not like you were going to lose yourself completely.  A harmless fine-tuning of the machinery, shinier gears and fancier covering.

Convenient store afternoons were idyll - no customers, and usually no Kai and Taehyun, who’d take the most deep afternoon naps they could take. Today, however, they’d decided to forego the naps, and they hung around the back, to analyze which candy was the best for the summer. 

You're sitting at the till, bright light shining right through the spotless plexiglass, hair gently swooping over your face, illuminating the strands. There’s a slight breeze from the droning AC that cools whatever sweat was beading your forehead. A lazy afternoon, light and airy, with the low hanging summer making the world around simmer like a boiling pot. It was this afternoon, that the bell tinkled as the convenience store’s door opened, the sound jingling faintly over the sound of buzzing cicadas and grasshoppers. It was this afternoon, uneventful like the rest, until it wasn’t - that you looked up to meet the eyes of Choi Yeonjun. 

“Any ice cream?”, the older boy asked, eyes shining like two pebbles under a clear lake on a summer’s day. Breaking out of your stupor, you just nodded, a bit frantic considering how you were caught in such an awkward way. Brushing whatever hair that had surrounded your face, you got up with a slight metallic screech of the chair you sat at, stumbling to where the freezer was. Opening up the box, you gestured to an assortment of cold treats that were laid out for the customers. Humming to himself, Yeonjun just scanned the ice creams, then shifted his eyes to you. You, who was already staring at his sharp side profile, the way the sunlight seemed to poke out from the sharp bridge of his nose to the way his lips seemed more plump than they were with the way he was chewing at them. Making eye contact with him, he simply asked with a slight smirk, “What do you suggest?”. “Huh?”, you asked dumbly, not catching his question with the way you were busy ogling the older boy. “Which flavor do you like?”, “Oh! Personally, I’d say you can never go wrong with chocolate. The chocolate chip choco cones are wonderful for this season. But if you need something to beat the heat, a lime popsicle would be the best.” “You seem to have a PhD in ice cream.”, the boy teased, as he eyed the way your cheeks grew warmer and your pupils widening slightly at his jest. “Oh sorry if that was too much! Um yeah, I guess th-that’s my suggestion.”, hurriedly avoiding his eyes and going back to gesturing at ice creams. A pale veiny hand reached into the ice box to pick out two ice creams - a choco chip cone and a lime-berry popsicle. Slightly waving the two at you with a smile, he proceeded to strut up to the counter, head turned back at you as he said with a voice that made your heart constrict and release butterflies, “ Why not both then? Can’t go wrong with recommendations from the master, can I?”. If it wasn’t obvious before, it was quite obvious now. You were absolutely enamored by Choi Yeonjun. Hurrying up to the counter and reciting his bill, he paid the money and a bit extra with a wink, for the “pretty cashier at the register who has a thesis on sweet treats.”. And just as easily he’d appeared, with a flirtatious smile and charm to knock any girl off her feet, Yeonjun was gone from the store, with ice cream and quite possibly your senses and bearings. “TweedleDee and TweedleDum, you can come out now. I can see the tops of your head. I can also feel your annoying presence”, you groaned as a sheepish Hueningkai and Taehyun appeared, both clamoring about how they didn't “mean to eavesdrop” and how “they were leaving the back store room when they say the interaction between you and Yeonjun take place.” But honestly, that wasn’t your biggest concern right now. The two kids were harmless, anyways. What concerned you was how the image of those dazzling eyes wouldn’t leave your head. How smooth his voice was when he spoke to you. For someone ready to break out of the daydream land you found yourself in, Choi Yeonjun was insistent to keep you under. And for him, maybe going breathless was worth it. 

The Second Summer - summer before junior year

It’s 2018 and it’s the end of your life. Well, to be fair, your life has been “ending” since freshman year, and your two friends have been watching you become the one who cried wolf every single time. “You don’t get it Soob,” with the cellphone perched on your shoulder, “I don’t know how you and Beomgyu aren’t freaking the hell out right now.” Soobin lets out a disinterested hum, deciding to conference Beomgyu in, because why would he be the sole victim to this torture? Sitting down on the bed with a force and a breath of indignation leaving your lips, you just continue your rant. “Soobin and Beomgyu. This is the year it gets real. College prep. Entrance exams. Volunteering and extracurriculars. Don’t you get it? At least Rin gets it. Rin’s with me-” “And that must suck for you, Soobin” a teasing Beomgyu interrupted, while Soobin stayed wordless, probably sulking behind the phone, too pouty to retaliate. This sudden remembrance made you laugh, and joining in on the fun, you said, “Yeah Soobs, how have you still not gotten the balls to ask her out?”, but you regretted the words that came out of your mouth, immediately anticipating what was coming and what's next. And just as you predicted, Soobin launched off on his monologue, “Crushing on Yeonjun isn’t a problem then huh? What about that? You’ve spent a year and half pining for the most wanted guy in the school, Y/N? Isn’t that funny?”, all the words spilling out in a single breath of a sentence. “Alright Soobin, I’ll lay off your case if you lay off mine. Besides, it’s easier to target Beomgyu, no?”. And with that the bickering went off again, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

A lot has changed since that summer in freshman year, with the chance encounter with Yeonjun. For one, you stopped working there the moment summer ended, which disheartened you slightly considering you would see less of Huening Kai and Kang Taehyun, the two boys you’d grown quite fond of in this short span of time. But the missing soon expired the moment the duo entered highschool themselves in your sophomore year, growing slightly closer to your friend group despite the year’s gap in age. They were the new addition along with Rin, Soobin’s neighbor and longtime crush, to your lunch table. A moment in time where SAT scores and classes, crushes and heartbreaks ceased to exist, and it was just your friends and you, suspended in an emulsion of feelings of friendship, and youth. 

Another thing that had changed since that summer was you yourself. Though your reinvention didn’t go the way you had planned - you still had matured. The crybaby 14 year old had grown into someone who knew how to stand up for themselves. The same person who’d spend nights crying because of mismatched schedules was moving up the academic ladder. 

And reappearing on that same lunch table on the first day of sophomore year, and then sticking it out till the end of the academic swing, with a whole new set of expectations crammed into binders and assignments, and the promise of new memories to make, was your friend group and you - a couple of kids ready to take on the world. Hand in hand, laughter shared and fondness obvious, it was going to be a good summer. You could feel it, in the jokes Beomgyu shared and the shrieking laugh Kai let out without fail. Grinning along to their antics, your eyes scanned the lunchroom.

One thing hadn’t changed with the seasons, and that was your fascination with the school’s IT boy, Choi Yeonjun. A wonderful enigma - athletic, kind and good looks all combining to create the most perfect gentleman you in your years of living had had the chance of meeting. He sat at the table diagonal to yours, and with a piercing heart did you remember that with all the changes, Yeonjun changed too - in the sense that he’d gotten a girlfriend. A girlfriend whom he adored, which was obvious to anyone with two eyes. 16 nearing 17years old and a heartthrob with a heart of gold himself, it was written clear as day in the leaflets of destiny, that Choi Yeonjun would be someone who would make a mile-wide crater of an impact on people’s lives. And as your eyes moved away from where Yeonjun sat with an arm slung around his girlfriend, the disappointment was quite evident in them, that you found yourself locking eyes with Rin, who held a look of pity. Shaking your head and offering a smile that said, “No worries”, you shifted your attention back to your friends. 

Choi Yeonjun may be at a school lunch table less than a foot away from you. But anyone who had lived through the apocalyptic land of highschool could tell that in reality, he was miles away. 

And this summer, he would be light years away - no longer a friendly customer at a convenience store where you no longer worked, but rather a fading memory of a golden summer’s afternoon, where you could for the first time, feel sparks lighting up inside your eyeballs when they looked into his. The first time your heart would do somersaults to be in his presence. The first crush. Your first crush, the golden boy. 

Being in the middle of the food chain of status quo meant having its own advantages and disadvantages. And a certain disadvantage was that sure, you were moderately more liked then the people above you, and you weren’t picked on nor where you shunned into isolation. But it meant that a very mediocre position came with a mediocre life. Your friend group wasn’t the type to be firstly favored to be invited to parties and blowouts with the older kids like some of your peers were. And frankly, your friends weren’t the type to be dying for those coveted invitations either. They were the ones who’d rather watch the Scream movies in order despite the fact that the entire group, minus Taehyun, were deathly afraid of horror movies. And honestly, you were all content with that - to make bad predictions to the endings and have Taehyun poke fun at the way you all fell for the jumpscares every single time.

But to reach to maybe even the periphery of Yeonjun’s area meant having to put yourself out there, just a little bit. And the time was no better than now, when Miyawaki Sakura, the foreign exchange junior you had the opportunity to help out when she first arrived in the beginning of the year, invited you to a blowout on the last day of the school party being held at her place. The lovely Japanese girl, who’d been meek and as quiet as a mouse had blossomed just like the flower her name signified, and grown out of her shell to be one of the rather popular girls in not only her year, but the entire school. Not only was she drop dead gorgeous, but also possessed the kindest of hearts - evident in the way that even after her rise to popularity, she hadn't forgotten the helpful sophomore who had shown her the ropes around school. 

Scoring the invite wasn’t an issue but rather convincing your homebody, introverted friends to tag along was - Taeyhyun and Kai were already on their ways to their respective family homes, so it was between Rin, Soobin and Beomgyu and if luck would have it, all three. 

“Guys please. We always have some other time to do these things - Rin I promise you, I’ll sit and finish the lego set with you myself. Soobin, Gyu - be so serious right now. You’re missing the hottest party of the year to watch freaking anime? Guys please!”. The whining and pleading and pouting along with shining up big puppy-dog eyes at all of them was all you had in your arsenal. “Y/N.” A single, serious utter of your name has you shooting another helpless look Soobin, putting quite possibly all your charm into this one. “We’ll go. Shut the hell up now.”

Jumping up from where you were sat on the floor of his bedroom, you shot off to where he and Beomgyu were on the couch, browsing through streaming services for new animes, to engulf him a bone-crushing hug that had him releasing his own expletives and swears, begging to be released, but chuckling along, nonetheless. Pulling Rin along with you, with a complaint from Soobin and Beomgyu about where the two of you were going off without them, giving a loud laugh, you just called out - “It’s a party, we have to dress up!”

Rin was humming along to whatever pop music had begun auto-playing as the playlist you both had put together for the process had exhausted itself, and it was something neither of you paid mind to, too busy concentrating on fixing eyeliner wings and choosing the right accessories to match your outfits. It wasn’t that you and Rin weren’t friends - no it was great having a girl in the group to help you handle Beomgyu and Soobin’s antics. But it was rather that Rin was the closest to Soobin, which had made conversation stall a bit. Yet the silence was friendly and not awkward at all. A few more beats and a song later, Rin off-handedly mentioned something that had you freezing in your spot. “Now that Yeonjun’s single, it won’t hurt to make your move Y/N.” “Yeonjun single, since when?” you asked perplexed. “But they were sitting together at that table just last week?”. “That’s the thing, Y/N. Right on that very day, Yunha and Yeonjun unexpectedly broke up. There’s no news on why, or how. But many speculate from what they saw that Yeonjun was the one who cut it right off, the one who initiated it.”

Your mind was spinning. A perfect guy and a not-so-perfect girl. What could’ve gone wrong with them? What made them fall apart like that? And so much so - it wasn’t that you were one of those people who would see him as an object on the market again. No, he was fresh off a relationship he recently broke off - and it surely would leave a stain on any person’s life. So many questions and so many feelings, and the nagging reminder of your own crush on Yeonjun felt like an anchor inside you, pulling at your heartstrings in a way that made them creak the most bittersweet tune. A boy you’d loved from afar, was now slightly closer in the binoculars you viewed him with. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t still distances away. 

“I don’t think so Rin”, came your thought-out reply. “Freshly broken up with? I don’t stand a chance. Not to mention that it’s not only me, but half the school that likes him”. Looking up to where Rin sat snickering, you pointedly asked her, “What?”. Halting her laughter, she just said with a warm twinkle in her eye, half turned towards you, pulling a hair brush through her locks. “The school may have a crush on Yeonjun, but you, Y/N, are head over heels.”

And this was something that weighed heavily on your mind all the way to the party, crammed in Soobin’s mini SUV which he borrowed from his parents for the night after incessant begging and pleading. Rin had a point, you thought, when you glanced at her from where she sat up front next to Soobin, the two lost in their own lovesick bubble. You really were head over heels of Yeonjun, and it had you tripping on your feet and falling more often than not. Pulling up the street crammed with several other cars, the bass reverberating through a specific house on the cul-de-sac lined curb made it obvious what the destination was. Finally managing to tightly squeeze the car into a spot far down, the four of you made your way down to the house, now emitting different sorts of LED lights and boosting party hits, with a hand wrapped around Beomgyu’s, both of you stuck in your own conversation that was continuing from the car. 

Standing at the door were two heavy-set boys, part of the school football team - Seo Changbin and Lee Chan, both coincidentally being Yeonjun’s closest friends. The fourth of their little musketeer squad was Jung Wooyoung, the wild spirit of a boy, filled with spunk and charisma, was probably inside the house, tearing up whatever makeshift dance floor the party provided. Nodding slightly in recognition at you, no doubt already informed about your invite by Sakura, Changbin just shot you a charming grin, accented with the obvious amounts of copious liquor he’d already downed before your arrival, and said, “You know Y/N, I’m not going to lie, I always thought you were too pipsqueak to come to one of these”. He’d given a look to Chan to man the doors himself for a while, and an unspoken second agreement between the both you couldn’t quite decipher. “Well, I couldn’t turn down Sakura at all”, you laughed sheepishly, flanked by Soobin’s lanky frame who was clutching on to Rin, and Beomgyu next to Changbin, all of you crossing the threshold to the zone of booze, loud music and people ready to share some skin. Changbin seemed insistent to talk to you, for some reason, as he continued, “Whatever magic Kkura played on you, I’m glad it worked, because you’re here.”, he beamed with a confident sort of happiness. “O-oh, me too.”, blinking at the sudden confession. “I’m glad I’m here too. This is Yeonjun’s house, is it?”, you cringed slightly at yourself. Of course it was, everyone knew this was his party. Barking a short laugh, he said, “Yeah, of course. Resident party boy couldn’t help himself on the first day of summer.” You had no idea where Changbin was leading you to, but judging from the way you guys were walking towards an ajar patio door, you figured he wanted you in the backyard to hear you better over the music, where the number of partygoers were much less. Why he wanted to hear you at all, was still a mystery. 

With all the questions and slightly flirty lines being thrown at you from Changbin, you’d managed to completely ignore how you’d lost your friends in the crowd, how Soobin’s comforting presence was not near you, or how you couldn’t hear Beomgyu’s raucous laughter anymore. Finally breathing in the fresh gale of air as you guys stepped on to the wooden flooring of his back porch, it seemed Changbin’s agenda was made clearer - the way he cupped the curve of your cheek, staring deeply into your eyes. And it made you brake in your steps, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. “Y/N. You’re cute. I’m cute. Cuter, maybe”, he giggled with a wink, as the thought that he might be quite tipsy had already washed over you. “Let’s get out of here?”, he said, beckoning towards the back gate of the house. And you, were absolutely fucking frozen. Here was an attractive boy asking you out, and all your stupid mind could think of was how badly you wished this was Yeonjun, and not his friend. And maybe you wished too hard, because from right behind the waiting figure of Changbin seemed to materialize Choi Yeonjun, black hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, smiling lightly as he met your eyes. The sharpness of his nose and the way his eyes seemed to crinkle around its corners. God damnit. Even in the worst of your moments, you seemed to be absolutely haunted by this six feet tall soccer player. 

“Hey, convenience store. Is this guy bothering you?”. Your mouth was open, but it seemed that no words would be coming out anytime soon. Glaring at his friend for icing his game, which just hardened when Yeonjun put an arm around his friend’s plentiful bicep, he just ushered Changbin away from you, still smiling at you as he explained, “He’s quite drunk right now. I’m glad you didn’t answer him anything, I’m surprised this dumbass can even stand on his own two feet, with the way he was pre-gaming before. Again, my bad, uh- what’s your name again? Can’t keep calling you convenience store now, can I?”

Here was Choi Yeonjun, talking to you about more than just ice cream flavors and homework. Here was Choi Yeonjun, helping you from making a dumb move with a drunk guy. Here was Choi Yeonjun, awaiting your response while you continued standing there mum. 

“U-uh yeah! It’s Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. I worked at the convenience store, yes. But I stopped working there now!”

There was some odd spirit cursing you, for sure. If there was a god of embarrassment, he seemed to have taken a liking to you. 

It seemed that Changbin, who was now reeling from the alcohol in his system, hunched over, ready to hurl, which seemed to distract Yeonjun from your nervous rambling. Hauling his friend over to the side of the patio, he entered with a Changbin hanging limply on his side. Looking back to where you still stood, he just smiled and asked, “You planning to help me out here?”

The floor of the bathroom where Changbin was sitting, curved into the toilet bowl, spilling his guts out was cold. Cold enough to make you and Yeonjun move to the baby blue ceramic tile bathtub, knees pulled into your chest while Yeonjun’s long ones were draped over the rim of the tub. Honestly, your jitters are much less now. The nerves had already made you almost forget what a disaster the first meeting with Yeonjun was, and it seemed he paid no mind to it either. “So Y/N, how do you know Kkura?”. And thus began a short and simple conversation with Choi Yeonjun in a baby blue bathtub, while his friend hurled in the toilet next to you both. 

“I don’t know how to do it.” The conversation was streaming steadily like a river, and the topic started digging deeper. Yeonjun asked about highschool, and how it was going for you - your plans for the summer and then junior year, the same way you asked him and how he felt about his last year in school. “What do you mean?”. “I wish I had a guidebook, you know? To tell me what sorts of things I should do, how to be someone in highschool who makes memories. Who lives. I’ve been trying ever since that last summer of middle school, and I’m still coming up short.” This just made Yeonjun let out a few giggles in amusement, which had you snapping your neck, shocked how he found your problems so funny. Shoving him lightly with your shoulder, you laughed too. “It’s not funny! I’m serious. Everyone except me knows what to do!” “Including me?” asked Yeonjun, head tilted towards you slightly in curiosity now. “Well..” and the look he gave you spurred you on. “You’re the Choi Yeonjun. You’re popular, smart, funny and talented.” “I know”, a lazy grin that had you clenching your fist in response to the butterflies. “So you get it right? You know the ropes.” This had Yeonjun’s smile faltering a bit, as his gaze dropped down to the floor. “If I knew Y/N, I’d know why I’m never enough for my girlfriend.” But as sudden as that confession was, he seemed to return to his original state. And you didn’t like that one bit. Sliding up a bit closer to him, you offered a token of friendship. “Wanna tell me about it? Sounds like you need a listener, and that’s something I’m good at.”

“Well, for starters, the rumor going around that I dumped her is false. It was the other way around. I would say it’s not that the relationship was running smoothly, but I guess I was holding on to that bit of whatever we had, floating a piece of driftwood. Splintering me, but I was holding on. She let go, I guess.”

You’re not sure what it is about you that has him baring open his soul so vulnerable only to you, but you’re glad. Because you saw the boy as more than just a shimmering silhouette in the distance now. He was much more up close, and much more beautiful.

On a hazy summer evening, where the air hung low above everyone like a buzzing, heated static, you met Choi Yeonjun in a new light. And he met you, not for the first time maybe, but definitely in a more impacting way. A second, first meeting.

The Second Summer - June

The days after the party at Yeonjun’s - where after you both had let each other read each other’s stories like open books on display, he’d walked you home due to “his extremely generous and chivalrous nature” (his words, not yours.), you’d been caught yourself far too many times revisiting that night in your head, replaying the smiles and the laughs, the banters and the jokes. You had something else too. Something that your friends were unaware of. Sure, you’d told them about your escapade with Yeonjun and why you were so absent at the party, which had led to hours of teasing from both Soobin and Beomgyu, with Soobin, roping Rin on to the antics kept making smooching noises at you, and Beomgyu, in the most Beomgyu-esque fashion ever would loudly and immaturely sing “Y/N and Yeonjun sitting on a tree” on the top of his lungs. But something you had yet to reveal to them, mainly because your patience would give out if you had to hear more taunts from them. But in your phone, locked away in your contacts, Yeonjun’s number.

“Lemme get your number, tubs”, he’d said with cheek as he called you that nickname he’d decided on the spot and a tongue poking out cutely from his lip, as he thrust his phone into your hands, still strolling along with one hand in the pocket of his black baggy jeans and the other brushing your own, sending sparks shooting right down your knuckles. Typing the digits in, he smoothly pulled your own phone out of your purse that he was carrying upon his insistence, and entered his own number, no doubt saving it under some sort of stupid name. “Why am I Tubs?”, you asked curiously. “Because I just had the best conversation of my life in a tub with you, tubs. Can’t let someone like you fade away now, can I?”. The street was lined with harsh white lamps, and little moths fluttering around the buzzing lamp made shadows dance around on the pavement. “So would you actually use a highschool guide if you got one?”, “Yeah, why not? A Popularity 101 or Escape High School for Dummies might be nice.” Humming, he seemed to be contemplating something, that you had to nudge him out of with an inquisitive look. “Nothing, nothing”, he said, shaking his head reassuringly. “Just something I thought of. Something that might help the both of us out.” “What do you mean?”, you asked him. “I’ll tell you about it. I’ll text you.” And just as elusively he’d entered your life, he left you on the front of your doorstep, with a promising smile and an electricity that wouldn’t leave your palms. 

The nickname had left a blush warming your cheeks that you hoped he hadn’t noticed. And when his contact lit up your phone screen, it was the same blush making its appearance on your face again. 

[Yawnzzn] 11:32 AM: meet me at the convenience store, tubs. kinda wanna talk to you ab smth

While the text’s ominous nature did leave you a bit nervous, the excitement of seeing him again, as a friend, as someone he wanted to hang out with by his own volition, overshadowed it. You knew it had to do something to do with what he’d referenced that fateful night. And skipping down the avenue, past the winding streets of the suburbs lined with trees and their apple green leaves, you made it to the convenience store on the corner, where Yeonjun stood staring into the ground, head bent, wearing a new pair of washed up baggy denims, a white form fitting shirt and a red-and-black cap turned backwards on his shaggy mop of black head, that seemed to highlight the brown undertone in the sun. Spotting your appearance from the sound of footsteps, he smiled and beckoned you into the store where you followed him, settling down on the outdoor seating arrangement shaded by the roof of the store. The sweat was starting to bead on the back of your neck which you tried your best to ignore. Focusing on the boy in front of you, meeting his twinkling gaze just set off an eruption of butterflies in your stomach. 

“Alright, before I say what I have to say, promise me you won’t be weirded out, okay? And I swear it only sounds as complicated.” He seemed nervous, and slightly uncomfortable about what exactly he was asking, which just made your fingers twitch slightly in anticipation. Anxiously biting your lip, you just nodded for him to continue, mustering up the best reassuring slight smile you could manage. “What if I taught you how to master highschool? And in return, could you pretend to be my fake girlfriend?”.

You blinked at him once. Then again. Honestly, you were awaiting that burst of ebullient laughter from him, where he’d then say how he was joking. Why would I date you Tubs? I’m not mad, he’d say. But none of that came. Instead there was still a patient Yeonjun eagerly awaiting your response. Sputtering in confusion and disbelief, you just asked him, “What? Why? Why do you need a fake girlfriend? Why do you want me to be the fake girlfriend?”. Giggling at your discombobulated state, he just waved his hand in the air in a gesture to relax. “Look. I’ve thought long and hard about this. You need a High School for Dummies, and I want to, well, show Yunha that I can be the boyfriend she needs me to be, you know? When she sees what a good boyfriend I can be with you, she might want me back!”. His radiant smile of excitement was throwing shadows over the cracks in your heart. Of course, he wanted her. Perfect, wonderful, Yunha. This would be severely, severely bad for your heart.

“I’ll do it.”

Recounting this debacle was shaping up to be exactly the kind of drama you were expecting from Soobin,Beomgyu and Rin. “You’re not serious. She’s not serious guys.” Rin was still in the denial stage of the process your friends were going through - with Soobin on anger and Beomgyu on grief, clutching your plushie on your bed and looking at you with sorrowful eyes as if you’d kidnapped his dog in front of him or something. Soobin’s mouth seemed to fly at miles a minute, berating you for how badly this would obviously end.

“Maybe this will help me, Soobin! To finally get over him! Clearly staying away just made me yearn more.” This just had Soobin turning more red. 

The both of you had drawn up unspoken rules about this of course - that the agreement would continue until the goal was met. Hopefully, it will happen by the end of this summer itself, Yeonjun had added. There was, of course, an agreement of mutual platonic feelings from both parties. Strike one in the deal.

You didn’t like doing things that your friends disapproved of, who despite their silliness and playfulness, were still your best friends. But God, did holding hands with Yeonjun as he led you through the colorful lights, bustling stalls and zooming rides of the carnival feel good. His hand was encasing yours and tugging your fingers, which had your own heartstrings cinching with each pulling movement. There was a wide smile on your face as he sped towards the stall selling animal headbands, insisting that you both needed matching ones. 

“You know, Yeonjun. If you’re secretly a furry or something, you can tell me. It’s okay, I won’t judge. I mean I will, but you know”, you said in faux sympathy while patting his shoulder jokingly, which had him adorably pouting at you. “Shut up, don’t you want to know what makes me so cool? These headbands do. Chicks and dudes alike dig my childlike whimsy.” He said proudly, which just had you raising an eyebrow at you. Stubbornly placing the matching fox ears on you, he pulled his cellphone out while explaining - “Okay, so step one. Kiss my cheek in this photo so that I can upload it to my story.” Kissing Yeonjun (albeit on the cheek) was like tasting heaven to you. Surely your heart would give out, if you even got closer to him. Kiss on the cheek?

“Come on, quickly! I wanna get a corndog after this”, he said signaling at the dimple on his cheek. Breaking out of your stupor, you hesitantly pushed your lips on to the soft flesh of his cheek, as he titled his more towards you, making your lips plant firmly against his dimple. Your mind was raging as the brightness around you, and his body warmth made your head spin. The sound of the shutter of a camera from his phone seemed to push you off your rollercoaster thoughts,moving quickly away. “Nicely done, Tubs.” he praised, examining the picture and wasting no time to post it. The sudden ding on your phone made you check the device, seeing the same picture being sent to you. “Set it as your wallpaper. Gotta make the gimmick more believable.”, he added nonchalantly. Nodding, you did as he told, until he said in an afterthought, “Plus, I look sexy as hell in that picture.” Scoffing at his confidence, you jokingly said, “And what makes you think I wanna stare at your face every time I open my phone?” “No rebuttals on the sexy part I see”, he winked at you. 

If your chances at surviving this date with an intact heart weren’t already horribly low, Choi Yeonjun was hell-bent on leaving you an absolute goner by the end of the date. 

The second date commenced equally as smoothly, with you taking the initiative this time by taking him to a pottery studio which doubled as a cafe - painting each other small trinkets to keep to remember the good friendship you were both fostering. And as you both opened up more to each other, you found yourself regretting what you’d said to Soobin. Because if anything, being close to Yeonjun just had you spiraling more into this lovestruck rabbit-hole. And you had to dig yourself out, fast.

One of those moments where clarity hit you about digging out, you’d decided to meet up with a fellow classmate of yours - Hwang Hyunjin. Hyunjin was a family friend of yours and you both had been quite close in your childhood years. Your mothers were best friends, who honestly wanted their kids to end up together. But they also didn’t want to force any unwanted romance on you both as children, which is why they’d left the matter alone all together. If it happened, it happened. If it didn’t, it didn’t. 

Your mothers shared such a deep friendship that they even had their own anniversary - the day they first became friends. And along the years, it turned into quite a wholesome celebration for them, celebrating their friendship together. And this anniversary was coming up soon, which is why when Hyunjin had texted you, asking if you wanted to help in throwing a little surprise party for the both of them, you’d eagerly jumped at the opportunity, ready to do anything to distract you from the boy you were so hopeless for. 

Pushing the grocery cart around as Hyunjin mindlessly added to things that might be required for the party, you both idly chatted, catching up with each other’s lives. Hyunjin was a quite good looking guy, and had all the girls in your class breaking their necks to get a good look at his prince-like beauty. Maybe you would’ve been one of those girls currently, if a different guy didn’t have your head up in the clouds. 

“And what’s up with you and Yeonjun? Don’t play with me and tell me, ‘cuz I saw that story of his? Does the shy Y/L/N finally have a man? The most fine, coveted man in school, even?”, he said, his cute dumpling smile and nudging making you blush slightly. “Well, we’ve been hanging out and stuff, I guess? He’s a good guy.”, you said bashfully. Hyunjin opened his mouth to say something but froze midair. Looking forward to seeing what had halted Hyunjin, you made eye contact with Yeonjun’s warm caramel brown ones. 

“Hi Y/N”, he said with a slight edge to his voice, eyeing you and Hyunjin suspiciously as he did. With a clipped voice, he also threw in a “Hey Hwang”, out of whatever courtesy he could find within the unexplainable pit in his stomach and the slight anger clouding his vision as he kept staring at how Hyunjin had an arm loosely wrapped around your shoulder while he was teasing you. He didn’t like that hand. At all. And he needed it off of you, immediately. 

“Hyune, take the items up to the cashier, please? I’ll be with you in a moment”, you requested, gulping as he left your side understandingly, leaving only you and Yeonjun standing in the fresh produce aisle. “Tubs, looks like you don’t need my help getting cool at all, if Hwang is the kind of guy you hang out with.”, he said light-heartedly, even though he felt nothing of the sort currently. Seeing you with another guy had put him off so much, so suddenly that it had him reeling. But, of course anyone wouldn’t be mad if their fake girlfriend was with someone else, right? Even if the word ‘fake’ gave him a bitter taste in his throat?

“Hyunjin is my family friend! His mom and my mom are best friends, you see. And we’re throwing them a little party, you see.”, you explained, suddenly feeling shy in his gaze, intense and burning right into you. His eyes seemed to soften at this, and he nodded. Feeling this odd urge to add more, you hastily spit out, “Do you want to come?”. The invitation was out of the blue and frankly had you feeling stupid. Who the hell would want to come to this? “You bet. I’ll be there in my finest suit and everything”, he added jokingly. “What time?” “Huh?” “What time is it starting?” “You actually want to come?”. “‘Course I do. Gotta impress my in-laws, right?”, he said cheekily. 

“You’re burning up, Y/N-ie!” Hyunjin later said, as he felt your skin as he had gone to poke your cheek. “Was it something in the store?”. Seeing how frozen you were, he slyly put two and two together and asked, “Or was it someone?” 

There were some streamers put up in the living room, and some balloons blown up by both your dads, who’d also become great pals because of their wives. You and Hyunjin were setting up the table, when the doorbell rang. “That can’t be them already?” you asked perplexed. “No, their spa appointment only ends at 6PM, I checked thoroughly”, said Hyunjin’s dad. Moving towards the door, confused about who it could be, you opened the door to find Yeonjun, casually dressed and clutching two small bouquets. “I’m not early, am I?”

When your moms arrived, your mother was pleasantly surprised to find you chatting happily with a boy who was not Hyunjin or any of your friends. Noticing the knowing twinkle in her eyes as you introduced her to Yeonjun, you silently promised her an explanation as you both moved around the room to where Hyunjin was, as your dad beckoned the parents over to the living room while letting the youngsters socialize on their own. With the three of you moving towards the backyard while cracking jokes, you could feel the one-sided tension between the both melting away, which made you glad. Settling down on the lawn chairs on the yard, the three of you streamed through various topics to talk about, with Yeonjun and Hyunjin bonding over their mutual interest in dancing. “I didn’t know you danced.” you’d voiced a bit quietly to him as Hyunjin went to his house just next door to get some beers for the three of you. You hadn’t drank before, so you were planning to sit this one out and let Yeonjun and Hyunjin get tipsy. “Yeah, it’s just been something I’ve always wanted to do. And my teacher before sophomore year reckoned I’d be good too.” “Why’d you stop?”, you asked him. “It was interfering with soccer practice. And soccer gets me into college - dance doesn’t.”. He seemed a bit shut off about the topic, and sensing how this was a sore spot for him, you didn’t press for much. “Well, there’s a life outside college. A life where you could do both - and maybe more dancing like you want.” you offered him in reassurance, which seemed to spark an interest in his eyes. Looking gratefully at you, this look on his face seemed different this time, like there was something deeper simmering beneath the cool guy smack he’d always give you. Your hand which was quite close to his own, hanging limply across the handles of the chair, suddenly was encased in warmth, with his own palm giving yours a grateful squeeze. “Thank you, Y/N. I’d like to show you one day, perhaps.”

And indeed, there was something cooking underneath that aloofness of his, because for the first time, he wished that he could show you his dance skills as his girlfriend, and not just a platonic agreement of the season. 

“Beer wench has arrived!” exclaimed Hyunjin, as he set down three bottles of Beer Lite on the wooden table in front of you. “Sorry to interrupt, lovebirds, but I’m ready to get cracking. Now Yeonjunnie, did you know that when Y/N was 11 she-""Shut up Hyunjin! You swore you wouldn’t talk about that!”. 

Hyunjin and his parents had departed as the evening neared its close, and the sky was black with dark maroon clouds spread out shielding the glimmering stars. Yeonjun had insisted on helping clean up for the party, claiming it was the least he could do as a guest. He was helping your dad clean up stray paper plates and napkins, until you showed him the way up to your room to get a garbage bag to dispose of the waste. His lanky body was right before you as you both bounded up the stairs, and opening up the door, a sudden realization hit you - Yeonjun was going to see your room. Your kind of messy, lame, postered up room. He was already two strides in when you were frozen up, terrified for the teasing onslaught that was bound to begin anytime soon. “No way, you listen to HONEY too? I freaking love that band.”

This was odd. No teasing. No making fun of your weird posters or your figurines and stuffed toys. Only a very heavy compliment on your music taste. Whistling long as he eyed the rest of your room, he seemed to giggle at the obscene number of plushies on your bed, which you took offense to. “It’s our year of the lord 2018 and you’re gonna make fun of plushies on the bed? Really, Yeonjun?”, you told him off with feigned disappointment as he laughed at this, chuckling while shaking his head. “Not making fun, just admiring.” His speech was only slightly slurred, indicating that he was only barely on the cusp of tipsy and sober. Moving towards your closet to bring out a garbage bag, he ambled up to stand right behind you, his arm resting against the wooden frame of the wardrobe as you ruffled around till you found what you were looking for. “Alright! Let’s go then”, spinning around only to bump your nose slightly against his hard chest. This caught you off guard, breath catching in your throat as you stabilized yourself by lightly holding on to his forearm. “Yeonjun?” you asked unsurely as your eyes hesitantly looked up to his pupils blown wide as he stared at you in an entirely different way. Like you were the only person he wanted to look at for the rest of his life. His lips were tantalizingly plump and pink, like easy to grab, low hanging fruit, the smell of cranberries and beer wafting on to your face gently in the most tempting way possible. Inhaling sharply, you saw how his vision flitted between features of your face, as if he was memorizing every curve, every mole and every lash. Eyes blown wide as saucers, you could only stand in bated breath, expecting nothing and everything at the same time. His lips were scanning your lips, and you swore your legs would give out right then and there, from the way he licked his own lips while eyeing yours. 

A call from downstairs seemed to separate you two like similar poles of a magnet, coughing slightly and silently going downstairs, garbage bag in your hand. There was a soft smile on both of your faces as you handed him the bag, going to join your mom in washing the dishes. Your currently flustered state was all the explanation your mom needed about who Yeonjun was to you in your life.

You and Yeonjun ambled by the door just killing time, neither of you wanting to say goodbye. But he knew it was time to go. Standing on your front porch, he offered the last sucker-punch of feelings to your gut as he said, “You know what, Tubs? I still don’t think you need my help. I think you’re the coolest person I know.”

The night when you laid in your bed, an hour after bidding him goodbye, you found yourself staring at the HONEY poster and smiling like a lovesick fool. This summer, you swore, was going to be beautiful.

The Second Summer - July

If you smile at your phone any longer, you’re afraid the shape would be etched on to your face forever, and everyone would know you as the lovestruck idiot who can’t stop smiling. At Least that’s what Soobin says, and obviously he’s never wrong. But even you had to admit, the rate at which you and Yeonjun had spent every waking moment together, including digitally over text messages, was just abysmal. Something seemed to have shifted in him ever since that encounter in your room, and it seemed like he’s exploded with affection. Almost everyone in your school knew that the both of you were in a relationship. A fake one, a snide voice in your head reminded you. That’s what this was for, anyways. A way for him to show Yunha how perfect he was. He wanted to be perfect for Yunha, and you were just practice. But the dark thoughts seemed to evaporate from your mind as another text message from Yeonjun lit up your phone, the wallpaper - the photo of the carnival - just making you more giddy. He’d invited you to your new date/hangout (you weren’t sure which word to settle on during this convoluted situation), a movie night at his place, after you’d relentlessly teased him for not knowing some of the most famous rom-coms. He’d apparently already watched Princess Diaries, which was a shock to you at first, until you found out it was only because his friend Chan had insisted that it was pure cinema, which it was. So tonight, you’d decided to make him watch the second installment of the series, a superior romance with just the right amounts of tension and tropes. He was picking up snacks from the supermarket while he was messaging you, asking you your preferences, the thoughtfulness melting your heart. Your leg was bouncing up and down in excitement as you laid on your bed, ready as ever for the night. 

At 7PM sharp, you had made your way to his house, rapping sharply at the door. He’d confirmed previously that the house was going to be empty save for his younger sister, since his parents had already jetted off for an anniversary couples vacation, leaving their two children in charge of the house. Fully expecting Yeonjun to open the door, you were surprised to find a smaller girl standing at the door with unblinking owlish eyes. From the similar fox-like features to the jet black hair, it wasn’t difficult to figure out that this was Yeonjun’s younger sister, Yena. She seemed to smile, metal braces glinting under the yellow porch light as she welcomed you in. His sister, who was due to start freshman year herself this fall in the same school as you both, seemed to spend no time in starting to talk to you, treating you like a friend she’d known for a long time. “You’re her, right?”, she seemed to ask mid-ramble, “You're Y/N. God that idiot can’t ever shut up about you! Of course, I see why considering how gorgeous you are, but please, some of us are sick of hearing about how much you like spending time with her!”, her voice growing louder and angled towards the staircase you both stood at the bottom of, clearly as a dig towards Yeonjun. His loud footsteps ran down the flight of the stairs, hair damp as if he’s just hopped out of the shower and bangs flopping against his forehead, clad in gray sweatpants and a loose black t-shirt. “Yena, don’t you have idols to ogle at on your iPad like a middle schooler?”, he asked with a huff of annoyance towards his sister, who just promptly stuck her tongue out at him, and walked away, not without giving you a teasing wink before she did. Clearly, this targeted teasing seemed to run in the Choi family genes. 

“We’ll watch the movie in my room, so that the little parasite doesn’t bother us”, he explained as he grabbed your hand to pull you up, almost like it was natural to him. A faint “I heard that!”from Yena in the living room made you chuckle wholeheartedly, loving their sibling dynamic. The sound of your laugh seemed to liven up Yeonjun even more, who could feel the warmth in your hand in his igniting a spark in his heart. So much for pre-made plans of how things go. It is the first time, he thought to himself, that someone’s made me feel this way. And I like it.

Settling down on his queen sized bed, the navy blue duvet and bed covers complimented with gray pillows surprised you, because to be honest, you were expecting some sort of Pokemon bed covers. Which earned you a frustrated and angry sound from Yeonjun, who in his annoyance often behaved exactly like a toddler. Endearing. 

Pressing on the button on the remote, he settled down comfortably right beside you, elbows touching yours as a bowl of popcorn mix was precariously balanced on both of your thighs, his body heat making you feel like a furnace. 

It got worse as the movie continued. Every minuscule move he made, every tiny shift or brush of him against you had you writhing in your head, having to restrain yourself from just imagining. Imagining what it would be like if you were both a regular couple having a regular date night, with your head on his chest, just above his beating heart. He would run his fingers through your hair that would probably soothe the next ten years worth of worries in your life. He could cup your chin and just dip down, giving you a taste of what it was like to be kissed by the magnificent boy. But that beating heart you fantasized of listening to, was currently beating for Kim Yunha. 

You’d never had your first kiss. You frankly saw no big deal of it, and you didn’t want to share a meaningless kiss with some boy who’s name you’d probably forget in twenty years during those eighth grade spin the bottle games at birthday parties. You didn’t know what your first kiss would feel like. If it would be the sparks and fireworks, the bubbles of champagne kind, or the comfortable one, like the breeze that enters through your window at night. Like home. The kiss you currently craved, you guessed, would taste as sweet as candy.

“Hey, hey she did the foot pop when she kissed him! That’s what she wanted in her first movie right!” Yeonjun exclaimed, deeply interested in the movie while you dealt with the dilemma in your mind. He added on, “Oh man, a foot pop kiss would be fun. Different to the kisses I’ve had. Have you had any of those, Tubs?”. His questions seemed to fly over your head, until he asked again, inquisitive eyes looking at you, the dialogue a dimmed background in how close he was. Gulping, you didn’t really feel shame or embarrassment as you told Yeonjun about your lack of experience (read:none) in that department. It was Yeonjun, of course. You couldn’t find anyone else to admit this kind of information to. 

Yeonjun doesn’t know why he’s said it; it flew out of his mouth faster than he could register. But all he did know is that he did want to kiss you. To give you your first kiss. A foot-popping, rom-com, magical kiss. You deserved it. He wanted it. 

“Wanna kiss me?”

His voice has a low timbre to it when he asks this.

There’s an ocean ringing in your ears in the midst of your raging emotions - confusion, shock, and above all, glee. To be kissed by Choi Yeonjun, was like plucking a star from the sky and handing it to you. 

Your neck moves almost mechanically in a single nod. And then his lips are on yours. 

There’s colors yet darkness behind your eyelids that flutter close. Your lips are moving softly and shyly against his, which are gentle yet firm. Like he wants this as bad as you. Like tasting you wasn’t a chore, but a reward. 

You think Yeonjun tastes like popcorn and excitement. He thinks you taste exactly like summer.

The Second Summer - August

The windows in the car are slightly fogging up, and beating heat outside isn’t quite helping. The heavy and quick breaths, the faintest moans of pleasure, from the bitten lips to the few scattered hickeys on your neck, as his lips, as unrelenting as ever, kept devouring your mouth would make anyone feel shy enough to look away. His eyes are slightly dimmed and he looks up through his eyelashes at you from where he’s nibbling on your collarbone, which sends a searing flame down your spine and making you whine a sound barely audible to anyone who wasn’t in the kind of proximity to you that Yeonjun was in. The whine just got more loud as you complained when he pulled away from his ministrations as the sound of his phone dinging from messages from the rest of the Three Stooges which was his friend group - all of them asking how long exactly would he take to go on a simple beer run for the party they’re holding tonight at Wooyoung’s place. Shushing your complaints with a sweet peck on your swollen lips, he said, “Sorry Tubs, but these guys won’t leave me alone unless I get their alcohol. ‘Swear they’re like impatient babies about this stuff.” Starting the car as you got out, he held your wrist just as you were about to close the door, tugging as he asked, “I’ll see you at the party, right?”, eyes gleaming with hope. Smiling, you reassured him with a simple yes, and walked over to the short distance to your house, where the rest of your friends had already gathered, waiting in your bedroom. Already bracing yourself, you opened the door to find Beomgyu funnily gasping and shouting about the marks and your messed up hair, with Rin high fiving you and Soobin, while pretending to be a mad dad at you, just hugged you with a smile that had broken through. “You know Y/N-ie, not even Olympic athletes are this dedicated to reaching the goal like you did. I’m proud of you kid.” “What’s up with all this ‘kid’ stuff, old man?” you asked him laughing as you plopped down on the beanbag next to Rin who was sorting through your wardrobe trying to find the perfect outfit for you to wear to the party, which would be your first public, public appearance with Yeonjun.

If you weren’t going to lie, you were quite nervous. Yunha was supposed to be at this party too. And Yeonjun and you hadn’t talked about the ‘deal’ you both had made, the one which would end with him being with Yunha again, at all since that kiss in his room. The rest of the days since then had since been blurred into kiss-filled memories highlighted with more dates and more memories with him. With not a single mention of what happened before, or what would happen later. If this was the only way you could have Yeonjun, in an unspoken way, the self-destructive, addicted part of you was okay with that. But all good things did come to an end. You had spoken to Beomgyu about your predicament, who had been nothing but a patient and attentive listener to you, despite the boy’s regular nature. He offered you some advice - the kind that you knew was so realistic that only Beomgyu could offer it. 

“Confront him about it at the party tonight. Perhaps being this publicly out with you might make him remember your contract too. Then you guys could come to a conclusion, hopefully a good one.”

You’re fidgeting with your fingers on the way to the party, non-verbal and staring out the window in Soobin’s car as the three of them sensed you needed your space, left you alone. Tonight was an important night. 

Jung Wooyoung’s house was no joke. A sprawling mansion with five private jacuzzis, countless bedrooms and more space than required, the party teeming across the entire property seemed to be in full swing when you all arrived. A text alert on your phone from Yeonjun made you look away from the sheer grandness of the house,

[Yawnzzn] 10:26 PM: come meet me at the jacuzzi marked number 3. it’s the one behind the fountain 🙂

Fountain? Jacuzzi? God, was Wooyoung rich. The number of amenities had your head spinning, and it was almost like deja vu, the way you found yourself separated from your friends again at a party. Fortunately enough, this time you’d told them about the message and about meeting Yeonjun. Beomgyu had given an extra reassuring look when you left, silently cheering you on for what you were planning to do tonight. Pushing past sweaty bodies and handsy couples, drunk teenagers and passed out bodies on the floor, you tried to find your way to the location that Yeonjun had messaged. The enormity of the house didn’t make it easy, and honestly you were getting quite dizzy from all the overstimulation around you. But you had to find him first. 

Finally spotting a cluster of palm leaves and an artificial water fountain, made of polished rocks and lighting from below making the water look ethereal, you ambled your way there, pushing past the leaves to get behind the fountain to where Yeonjun said the jacuzzi was. Making it past the rocks, you saw the jacuzzi, where your boy sat with his feet in the glowing blue water, the shadows of the water rippling across his face. There was your beautiful boy, sitting right next to Kim Yunha. 

You didn’t know what to say. Or do. He was looking at her the way you swore he looked at you, with all that hope and all that endearment in his face. Then his face fell, with a tinge of visible anger clustering in his furrowed eyebrows, when you heard the words in her voice, “So what, you gonna extend your contract with your pathetic little fake-girl? Or are you just man up and come back to me?” There seemed to be some sort of satisfaction in the smirk Kim Yunha wore, amplifying when she looked right at you, gleaming with some sort of vengeance. As soon as she did, Yeonjun did too, with a look of utter bewilderment and helplessness. Sort of like how you felt. 

It was like piercing a knife right through you, hot and searing which led to the same kind of tears running right down your face. The look you wore had something inexplicably sharp poking Yeonjun deeply in the chest. He was trying to get around the wet floor, trying to reach you, screaming something. 

But you didn’t hear anything. It was like there was that ocean in your ears again, raging violently this time. Your breath was quickening like falling sand. You didn’t know what to think right now. The summer was supposed to end, and this was the end of your summer, and fuck, he got what he wanted, didn’t he? And left you with nothing. You didn’t know what to do, so you did the only thing you could do, and you ran. 

The Second Summer - Yeonjun’s Summer

If you had asked Yeonjun how his summer was going, he would just say one thing. “This summer, I fell in love.”

74 missed calls have accumulated in your phone over the past three days, where you’ve laid just rotting in your bed. Your eyes are probably still puffy from the way that when you think the tears have ended, they begin again. Rin spent the night over the first night, after hearing your broken recount of the events that had happened to the best of your abilities, amongst the gut-wrenching sobs that wouldn’t stop and the horrible ache in your heart that just wouldn’t stop. The second night, it was Beomgyu, accompanied by Taehyun and Kai, who had come back from visiting their family and been filled in by the rest of the gang on the current happenings. Beomgyu seemed quite angry at himself, after all he was the one who had suggested that you seek out Yeonjun at the party. But when you limply just grabbed his hand while tears streamed down your face noiselessly, the three boys just gathered around you in a circle, encasing you and trying their best to shield you from pain; even though the pain was deep inside you, like a hurtful wrench determined to dig right into you. 

Soobin was here on the third night, declining all the calls from the boy who broke your heart, who seemed to be relentless in his attempts. He had gotten what he had wanted, didn’t he? He got his precious girlfriend back, and was he stupid enough to expect the both of you would continue to be friends? “I don’t get why he called me there if she was going to be there as well”. Your voice is as frail as a dying leaf in winter, thin like paper and watery that had Soobin himself tearing up for his friend. 

You did have quite a lot of unanswered questions that would remain a mystery to you, you guessed. Did everything really mean nothing to you? Was I the only one calling it everything? Do you miss me? I miss you. I miss you a lot even though I shouldn’t. I miss you all the time. I hate you. I miss you. 

Another buzzing call on your phone had you break out of your headspace. “Soob”, you began in a watery voice, “I’m gonna go shower. Maybe get rid of this stench and sadness on me. You go home and get some rest, okay?””But-” “Trust me.” He understood that this was something you needed, and giving you one last hug, he walked out, leaving you alone in the room where you first felt Yeonjun. 

He’s been driving around aimlessly for the past three days. Ever since that night, he’s been sleeping in his car, which had gathered protests from the rest of his friends. But he couldn’t stomach going into his room, where he’d kissed you for the first time. He was haunted now, by the most beautiful ghost. A ghost whom he’d hurt. 

He has been cursing out Kim Yunha in his mind continuously, but not as much as he’d been cursing himself. When she’d overheard the conversation he was having with Changbin, Wooyoung and Chan about how he was ready to cut the contract-deal bullshit between you both, to finally put an end to the Yunha business, and finally ask you to be his as much as he already was yours, he should’ve taken some action. He shouldn’t have fallen for her innocent act, where she pretended to be actually interested in hearing about you. He should’ve cut her off immediately, and then run to you and kissed you long and hard.

But he didn’t. He didn’t and now you were hurt because of him and he couldn’t find you at all. There seemed to be no activity about you. You hadn’t blocked him, but you didn’t pick up his calls. His texts were still going through, but left on delivered. He was lost, and you were the only one who could compass him back to shore. 

He doesn’t know when to pin-point to the moment being the moment when he realized that he’d fallen hard and fast for you. Every date with you made him crave your presence more. Funny jokes seem funnier when he hears your laugh. Movies were more entertaining only when you were sitting next to him, pressed up to him so that he could smell your shampoo and hold your hand, the pads of his fingers tracing every crease on your palm. Or maybe it was when you became the first person to take an interest in the real him - the Yeonjun who liked dancing and animal ears and popcorn and ice creams from the convenience store. Maybe he was a goner the moment he sat in that bathtub at the party with you. Losing an anchor like you meant he was back to being adrift at sea.

It’s the 4th day of being on no-contact with Yeonjun. Since that fateful day where your heart had been shattered to pieces. You’re back at the convenience store you’d worked that summer, on some sort of heritage tour of the moments you had before you were crushed. You walked on over to the ice cream box, chuckling sadly when you noticed the exact ice cream you’d recommended him still being there. You weren’t sure how or when you’d stop remembering him in the small things. But in some deep, deep part of you, you wanted to remember him. You wanted to remember how high you felt around him. 

“Y/N.”

It's like the temperature in the store drops significantly when he says your name. You’re refusing to turn around, shoulder seized up and taut. He’s here, he’s here, why the fuck is he here?

“Y/N, please.” He doesn’t want to get too close to you just yet. He wants to give you the space you need. But fuck, if he just didn’t feel the largest wave of relief in his chest when he spotted you entering the convenience store. 

“Y/N, Tubs. Please. Just hear me out. Please? I promise you it’s not what it looked like.”

He sounds so utterly desperate and broken that it makes your heart ache enough to make you turn around, making you gasp at his disheveled appearance.

There’s dark eye bags under his eyes which have lost any spark they held before. Despite the brightness of the sun outside, he seemed to look almost gray in color. Like life was sucked right out of him. His concerning appearance had you shuffling hesitantly towards him, which he was ever-so welcoming to. Opening his mouth, his voice was hoarse, as began explaining everything. 

You’re both seated outside that store again, where that godforsaken deal began. He seems much lighter now, and much better. His hand is inches from yours, and hesitating to close the gap. The moment is so tender, so precious, that even one wrong move has him fearing that you’d leave, and he’d be broken again. “Is the deal over then?”, you ask him, which has his eyes widening. “Fuck the deal, baby. I’m so sorry that it even was a thing. I like you, Y/N Y/L/N. I might even just be in love with you, and I’m mad enough about you to admit it. You’re like breathing to me, Y/N.”

He’s here again, and he’s so, so beautiful again. This time, it’s you closing the gap between your hands, his palm bringing back fond memories to your mind. “Well, Yeonjun, I hope the deal is over. I’d like to declare it over, because I would prefer it a lot more if you became my real boyfriend, instead of my fake one.”

It’s the summer before junior year and you’re only sixteen, but you swear that this is love. You may not know much, but you’re sure. Reaching here might’ve been hell, like fighting modern Sparta. But you wouldn’t have ended it any differently, with you and him and a summer in a convenience store, eating ice pops and sharing frozen kisses. 

Bonus: The first fall

You’re standing in front of your locker. The first day of school jitters were significantly lesser compared to your previous years. Picking up the singular post-it that had seemed to have found itself in your locker, you turned it around to find Yeonjun’s scrawling handwriting saying only one thing. I love you. And just as you grinned from the message, the boy in question wrapped his arms around your torso, planting a sweet kiss on the right side of your neck, and then deeply inhaling your scent, which made you laugh happily. “Cool people write post-its by the way. That should also be a tip you should consider for your highschool journey.” “Of course, my cool boyfriend. I’ll definitely keep in mind that post-its are for cool people.” If Yeonjun was a star, you were his star charter. You’d still have to get through the battleground of high school. But doing it with Yeonjun just made the whole journey much sweeter, didn’t it?

“Just for the record, I still don’t like him.” ”Shut up Soobin!”.

[markiv3]

stray kids as romantic tropes

with little to no context

ot8 not proofread guys my bad

bangchan - friends to lovers

like wbk... he's got that friendly aura and i think he'd just befriend you thinking that you were just a pretty person but it turns into something more. he'd be very open about his feelings when he realizes how he feels i think.. and he'd confess with flowers and a nice dinner hoping to charm you but there's no charming needed cause he's just the best guy ever.

minho - college sweethearts

OKAY SO what i think is that it would be a love at first sight oh trust he fell first and harder and like campus would be so fun starting from the day you first saw him until you finally got together like.. he'd be flirty all the time omf like he'd mess with you playfully and hope you would catch the hints. he'd catch himself grinning and smiling after talking to you and all his friends would tease him about you but he wouldn't care cause he is head over heels TRUST!!!

changbin - newly married couple

oomfs i think he'd be the perfect husband i'm not even playing like walk with me... he goes to the gym, he can cook, he would be down extremely bad for his partner LIKE TRUST. his love language doesn't exist cause he uses them all like his rich ass would buy anything you asked for. when people ask him if he's bored of you now that you're married he's just shocked because how could someone be bored.

hyunjin - strangers to lovers

as i have said before he just looks like a stranger you'd meet on a trip and he's just the best person you've ever met like.. you'd stay with him for a while maybe and it would be the best ever: treats for you every morning, flowers, presents, kisses, portraits, paintings, hugs and lots of hopeless romantic stuff. he just has that mysterious aura that makes him the perfect stranger that turns into something more.

han - brothers best friend

he'd be your brothers awkward friend that comes over once in a while and talks to you looking at the floor cause he got no game and he's loser number one but once you get more comfortable he's just so funny like you find yourself laughing at his stupid jokes all the time. i think he would always have a crush on you since the day you met but won't say it cause you're his friends sister.

felix - childhood friends to lovers

liiikeeee doesn't he just feel like it or am i crazy... he's so warm and cute and fuzzy.. you two have been friends forever (there would probably be a lot of like right people wrong time) and you both realize you like each other but are too scared to confess in fear of ruining your friendship so it all remains a secret till it probably slips out from one of his friends and well you know the rest.

seungmin - enemies to lovers

like everyone says this but i think its so so accurate like he'd be perfect in an academic rivals or office enemies; he would tease and annoy you at any occasion and then realize he's fallen for you but won't admit it ever, and i think he'd become even more annoying when he realizes that he likes you just to suppress those feelings.

jeongin - secret relationship

so errrm hear me out okay, it's the way he's so careful with stuff but he's also so secretive about his feelings i feel like when he finally gets himself to confess and you agree he just needs time. that time would be spent hiding every kiss and holding hands under the table and then walking back to wherever you need to go pretending you're still just friends when you're much more, but only you two need to know that.

i might write these extensively and seriously but i just wanted to put this out there cause ive been thinking about it for so long

[lovieku]

Good Luck, Babe! #3 ☆ jeon jungkook

what happens when you leave everything behind, only to be faced with it again years later? eunbi is convinced she was given another shot at keeping all she ever wanted, but it’s difficult when that all is her childhood best friend who doesn’t want to do anything with her anymore. how to earn his trust back?

☾ pairing: non idol!jk x fem!oc

☾ genre: childhood friends to strangers, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

☾ word count: 9k +

☾ warnings: explicit language. say hi to eunbi!!! and to the friend group!!! its a bit funny until it becomes angsty … ouch. jeongguk is a bitch lowkey. pun unintended (you’ll see). theyre dramatic as hell. like bro it cant be that serious 😭. im sawrry for this. and its not all!!! see you in fourth chapter 🫡

☾ author’s note: hi hi hi!!! this took a bit to fully convince me but in the end it did. i was frustrated because i felt like i couldnt really use my words properly to tell the whole thing but… here we are now!!! thank u!!! enjoy 🫶🏻

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three ⋆ this is me trying

Up to that point, Eunbi’s life has been a constant adjusting to new surroundings, leaving bits and pieces behind, getting attached to new ones, and hoping they wouldn’t be taken away from her. It would always end up as she feared it would, though. From as early as she can remember, Eunbi would live off her blue backpack, where she gathered a toothbrush, a change of clothes and her favourite plushie to help her sleep and adapt faster to the smaller bed at her dad’s house. When her parents had divorced, it had been a rough patch before the both of them could come to a legal agreement; that being, she would spend the weekend with her father, and then stay with her mother again until Friday rolled around.

She rarely looks back at those days now, but when she does — mostly at night, her mind seemingly incapable of putting a stop to her furious flow of thoughts and just sleep — she thinks if it hadn’t happened to her when she was still pliable and mouldable, when she was yet to be met with what ordinariness was supposed to look like for others, she wouldn’t have been ready to wholly face all that followed. Eunbi was young when she learned that love between two people could end so easily, and her innocent self accepted that as the norm.

As a result, what she found harder to accept, more than her own mother and father not even being able to stand next to one another without ending up quarrelling, was having to leave her small black poodle in Gwangju, with her grandma, after moving away to Busan. Curly (little Eunbi had given him that name for obvious reasons, and to this very day she finds it dumb, but it makes her giggle nonetheless) had been a great companion through the inevitable loneliness she had to face as an only child. She was convinced he could understand her better than no other, even when she would force the tiny creature to sit and listen to her ramble on.

Busan was the next big change that was pushed onto Eunbi, only a few years after her mother got engaged to a man that would soon replace her biological father: with time, sleeping over at his house for the weekend was no longer even a contemplated thought on his side, coming up with excuses after excuses as not to, and that slowly led to showing less and less interest in keeping up with her and meeting up. The little girl had always been numb in relation to such negligence, and because of this she could consider herself lucky in some distorted sense; it didn’t affect her as much as it should have.

Part of that was also due to her step-dad being a great father figure during the initial times of his and her mom’s relationship, making sure to adapt to Eunbi’s pace and boundaries, never overstepping while also being able to bring fun into her life by taking the family out to visit places and eat delicious meals. What he couldn’t do for her, however, was live with a dog. When he and her mother decided to finally move together following their wedding, they both agreed on wanting to restart from a brand new place. Busan was their perfect pick for a variety of reasons: her mom got offered a job at a recently established company that seemed promising, and her step-dad could fulfil his deep-rooted dream of expanding his by starting a new branch.

Every single thing about him seemed perfect to her mom’s eyes, even if he was apparently deathly allergic to dog’s fur. And, of course, she picked her husband over Curly. Eunbi couldn’t believe it, nor accept it. The girl cried over the small dog for the two weeks prior to moving, during the trip to Busan, and for the following days there. Her grandmother would keep her updated by sending pictures of Curly through email, and even after the scar had healed, those would never fail to make her tear up.

As shameful as it might be to admit it, after having dried herself from half the water that made up her body because of the constant crying, it didn’t take long for the scar to close. When she first stepped foot in the big city by the seaside, Curly showed up right in front of her. Just in human form. Big eyes, long black hair and puppy manners, her neighbour was definitely sent to her by something greater. Eunbi was obsessed. It didn’t show at first, her pride prevailing. But it was harder and harder to fight against it. Jeongguk was simply too easy to love.

They became inseparable. Wherever he was, better believe she was there too, attached at his hip. And if they showed up alone, people would naturally ask about the other. Because the moon is never seen without its stars, and sunflowers only ever turn to face the sun. Their bond could be perceived by anyone as unbreakable, a friendship to envy and wish for, and every brick that built it had resulted in the creation of their own safe haven that only had space to contain the two of them. Not anybody else could be let in, the bubble exclusively recognised their password. It wasn’t composed of words, or numbers. It was the look of understanding they would share; the white lies used to cover the mischief of the other; their own handshake, accompanied by an original friendship jingle that Eunbi came up with randomly; the assurance that they could reveal their biggest secrets to one another, and they’d be kept like an oath.

There’s many of those that Eunbi shamelessly revealed to Jeongguk, some with intent and others unleashed spontaneously during their many endless talks. But when she thinks of it, she never admitted the single one that really mattered, the one that her best friend in the whole world needed to know, and remember. At all times. In any circumstance. It wasn’t a secret, it was more a result of her pondering; it came to a full reasonable thought only years later, and by then it was too late to tell him.

Eunbi thinks, and she’s sure, Jeongguk was the reason why all that came before the two of them had to happen. If it didn’t, she would have spent her whole life looking for that missing puzzle piece: under the cushions of the couch, in between her bed sheets, accidentally thrown away in the bin. It was as if all the hardships she experienced were justified, because at the end of the tunnel Jeongguk was waiting for her. And everything finally made sense. The puzzle was complete. Jeongguk was the reason himself. He was sent to teach her an important lesson: everything happens for a reason. There’s a cause and an effect, and even if the cause was suffering, at least the effect was her favourite boy.

Then, a gust of wind had wiped the puzzle to the ground, every single piece losing its place. When her best friend was taken away from her, she stopped being so convinced with the thought she herself had harboured, because she suddenly couldn’t find the meaning behind such a cruel fate. If everything really happened for a reason, then what was it? Jeongguk helped her see colours, only to return to black and white. Leaving him behind had marked the death of a version of herself that she would never get back.

Seoul was big, and harder to adjust to, even more with the baggage she was now dragging behind. Unpacking it, she found out all she had brought with her was a shattered trust and a soon to be broken promise to never get attached again. It was hard to be faithful to such an imposition, when Eunbi was born to give out love. It was hidden in that luggage, in between fears and regrets, but surely present.

And it prevailed in the end. Even at a slower pace, love found its way up and helped a lost Eunbi navigate the big capital city, promising new beginnings and healing. She found that in the faces of people that she would then start to recognise as friends, inside warm cafes during the coldest days of winter, and in the certainty that no matter where she is, she is always looking up at the same moon.

What she has built in Seoul so far feels the closest to stability that she has experienced in years. Starting university and meeting Dahye was the last bit of convincing it took to make her consider once again that a reason could exist, and that in the end it would make sense. Maybe not totally. Maybe just partly is enough after all.

Until, seeing a pair of familiar starry eyes in the midst of dull ones was all she needed to firmly believe in what she had been finding hard to accept. It took one shared look for past and present to get blurred together, and the mixture of old with new feelings created a mess. It was nice, nonetheless. Better than the seemingly impossible to get rid of emptiness at the pit of her heart.

Behind her eyes, Eunbi could see the puzzle slowly reaching its final form again, this time with more missing pieces, but the image was at least recognisable. When Jeongguk showed up in front of her again like magic, she contemplated becoming religious. Getting to her knees and starting praying to whatever greater force was shining on her path to please keep doing that. None of that showed on the outside, her smile breaking and mirroring the expression on the boy’s face. Pure sorrow. She knew she was probably the last person on earth Jeongguk wanted to see, and the fact that he wasn’t even trying to mask it didn’t help.

The most rational response she could come up with at that moment was to act as if nothing ever happened. And then, the bricks that a long time ago held together their safe bubble were being used by the boy to raise a high wall between them, making sure accessing his space would be impossible for Eunbi. Who could blame him? Still, the happiness she shamelessly felt when Jeongguk showed up at her 20th birthday party was too consuming, she selfishly wished for the rest of her birthdays to always look like that as she blew the candles. Nonetheless, when he suddenly left sprinting on his bike she knew the gods would need time to grant her desire. Although, this time around she had faith.

She doesn’t know how long it would take for it to break, though. September getting closer and closer only means that Jeongguk’s birthday is just around the corner. As part of his friend group, she had been involved in the process that led to organising the surprise camping trip, even if she didn’t exactly participate. After all, she doesn’t get to say she knows the boy better than anyone, anymore. Jeongguk has evidently changed, and as a consequence she knows way less about him than the others.

For that exact reason, Eunbi had made various attempts to back down from the trip, fearing her presence could significantly ruin it for the celebrated boy. At first, she tried to be casual about it with Dahye, since she’s the only one she’s opened up to about the whole dilemma, “I think it’s better if I don’t come. After all, it’s a friend trip. I’m not really his friend.” To which her roommate only replied with bullshit, proceeding to type away on her keyboard. That did not help whatsoever.

Then, the night she was too tipsy to take a taxi back home and Jeongguk had offered her a ride on his bike, she came home with a smile on her face only to burst out crying in front of a just as drunk Dahye. In between sobs, she begged to be left out of the trip, “Ple- Please, Dahye. He hates me. I can’t stand it.” Her friend tried to shush her whines, pushing Eunbi’s head on her chest and consoling her, “He doesn’t, baby. I’m sure he doesn’t.”

As a result of that night, Dahye had then sat her friend down with the intent of fully convincing her to be present for Jeongguk’s birthday trip for a number of reasons, “It would be rude to not show up after he was there for your birthday. And also, what if you two end up talking about… things! And everything gets solved! That would be nice, wouldn’t it, Bibi?”

Eunbi had just nodded all the way through the motivating speech, not really understanding nor believing her words, but apparently they were enough to lead her to the present moment: awkwardly squished between Dahye and Jimin on the couch of her flat, while they animatedly converse with the others to approve on the trip schedule. She has never felt so out of place before, not only because she doesn’t feel like she has a say in the whole discussion, but also because as time went by the two friends by her side kept shifting to subtly get closer to one another, not realising they were compressing her body in the process. To the point she is forced to get up, the position she was in being too uncomfortable, and sit on the ground under the couch next to Namjoon.

She can feel her movements being followed by a pair of curious eyes, and when she looks up to meet them, she finds out they belong to the origin of all her worries. Before Jeongguk can divert his attention elsewhere, aware he was caught observing, she gives him a quick tight lipped smile. It goes dismissed, as if it hadn’t happened. Ouch. It’s okay, Eunbi can take it. She used the few days prior to this to mentally prepare. She knows she’s not exactly welcomed anywhere near him, that’s why she made a silent secret pact within herself: whatever happens during the trip, don’t be a bother to Jeongguk. Stay away from him as much as possible, and if not possible, then do anything to avoid putting that frown on his face, exactly the one he’s sporting right now. On a second thought, if just looking at her gets him to react like that, maybe it’s best to mentally wipe that off her list of things to keep in mind for Jeongguk’s birthday camping trip.

With there still being a day left before their minibreak takes off, the girl can already tell it’s going to be hard to follow the flow of that list, Jeongguk making it obvious her presence could have been avoided before the vacation has even started. Still, she remains composed and brushes off what had just happened, instead focusing on the main topic of conversation.

The group (Hoseok) has decided to meet to go over the schedule one last time because, “Everything needs to be perfect, guys. We can’t afford to slip!” It’s still Hoseok talking. Eunbi learned that he had always been the one in charge of organising events and little getaways when it came to the friend group, his obsession with keeping everything under control coming in handy in such scenarios.

Not only that, but the reddish haired guy is also amazingly quick on his feet, and in a relatively short amount of time he has managed to find the perfect excursions and experiences to go over during the trip, making sure every day spent together would be filled with fun activities that he knows the birthday boy is going to look forward to. In between what he has arranged there is cycling, canoeing, trekking, and more stuff that Eunbi can’t keep up with. Surviving this is going to be made ten times harder by the amount of energy that is going to be expected out of her. She sighs at the thought, looking down at her manicured nails. She just got them done, and now they would surely break.

It takes a few seconds for her to realise the sudden silence that fell above the room, and when she looks back up she’s met with eleven pairs of eyes staring at her. She straightens her posture, suddenly too aware of being perceived, and she deduces her previous exhale had been released with more energy than intended. Hoseok sweetly smiles at her, “Anything you don’t agree on, Eunbi?”

The panicked girl opens her mouth to justify herself, her eyes getting wider and shinier with embarrassment, but Dahye beats her to it, “Bibi, didn’t you say you, like, hate cycling? I’m sure we had a whole conversation about it.“

Eunbi is mortified. Her eyes jump from Dahye to Jeongguk, trying to get her best friend to shut up while also registering the boy’s scoff and muted roll of his eyes. Oh god. Her whole be-lowkey-and-make-yourself-unnoticed plan just shattered in a matter of seconds. She can feel Jeongguk’s eyes bore flaming holes into her skull, his arms crossed and his legs furtherly stretching out on the armchair. If she still had a small, tiny hope left that he didn’t fully hate her, she just witnessed that shattering in pieces too.

She quickly shifts to sit on her heels, her hands frantically shaking to try and save her face for what she could, “No, what? I love cycling. Seriously, I’d do it everyday if I could.” She chuckles shakily while subtly shoving Dahye’s knee next to her to signal going with the lie. At first, Dahye looks clearly confused: she was so sure of that information about her roommate. She furrows her brows, looking down at a panicky Eunbi widening her eyes. It takes only a few more seconds for her to suddenly get it, shaking herself from her doubts and catching the ball, “Oh, right! You do! I got it confused with, huh… something else.” The girl mutters that last part only to join her friend in a nervous laugh, and an apologetic smile. Best believe Dahye is going to hear about this later.

Hoseok looks just as puzzled as the others, but nonetheless he nods, announcing the schedule has been officially confirmed. A collective acclaim fills the room, only for the boy to stop it with a raise of his pointer finger, “Now, I will assign you guys in your respective cars.” Which is comically followed by a joint groan, and some protests. Hoseok ignores them, and goes on reading off his perfectly planned out Word document.

”Namjoon is the first driver, and he’s travelling with Iseul, Seokjin and Sora,” he looks up to briefly check with the mentioned members to see if there are any complaints, then proceeds. “We’ve got Yoongi with me, Aera and Taehyung. Then…” Hoseok squints his eyes while scrolling down the document, and those few seconds of silence are enough for Eunbi’s thoughts to anticipate what is about to follow. She lowers her head, unwilling to meet Jeongguk’s glare when Hoseok says, “Jeongguk is driving with Jimin, Dahye and Eunbi. All set?”

The positive response is quick, even too rushed and disregardful of what was said, as Namjoon and Taehyung have been impatiently begging for the never-ending organising to be over so they could order food and finally fill their starved stomachs. No one pays any mind to it, but Eunbi and Jeongguk stay quiet, while Jimin and Dahye share a knowing look. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.

The evening is spent in the cramped living room of Eunbi and Dahye’s shared flat, eating pizza and letting a random movie play, which soon only functioned as a background noise the moment Taehyung started a game of Would You Rather. Even if Yoongi initially shushed him, everyone eventually became more delighted with Seokjin’s unthinkable suggestions than with the film, “Would you rather be trapped in a small room with 10,000 tarantulas for 10 minutes, or eat 10 tarantulas in 10 minutes?”

Eunbi tries to let herself be distracted by the content smiles on her friends’ faces, even feels less distressed when she notices Jeongguk relaxing as well, but that doesn’t stop her mind from overflowing with all the things that could potentially go wrong. It inevitably shows on her face, and in her unusual quietness. She has been pondering on the last information Hoseok had shared about the confirmed schedule for hours now, worrying it was going to start the trip on the wrong foot. There were all the best intentions to not poke the sleeping bear, but she fears being in the same car as him is going to stir him awake.

After the group leaves the apartment at past 1 a.m., Hoseok checking with everyone that they’ll show up at 8 sharp tomorrow morning in front of the same building they’re now parting ways from, Eunbi releases a long sigh as she closes the door behind her shoulders. Dahye catches the look on her features immediately, taking her pretty face in between her palms, “I’m sorry for earlier. I was trying to help.” She pouts, and it makes the shorter girl chuckle.

Eunbi shakes her head, dismissing her apology with a small it’s okay, and freeing herself from her friend’s hold so as to avoid meeting her eyes, instead busying herself with tidying up the mess in the living room. Her flatmate looks at the strangely silent girl narrowly, “What are you thinking? Please, don’t let it be something stupid like I don’t wanna drive in Jeongguk’s car.”

When all Dahye is met with is silence, she knows that specific something stupid is flowing in the other girl’s head. Eunbi spends the next hour packing and letting Dahye think she’s wholly convincing her distressed roommate nothing could go wrong from just being close to each other, and if anything, it could be a starting point.

For the sake of getting at least three hours of sleep before the long drive ahead, Eunbi fake promises her friend that she won’t let such thoughts haunt her mind and stop her from enjoying the holiday (she was forced to repeat those exact words) knowing she’s going to let them do precisely that. She also ends up staying awake all night either way, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse that she can use to ask Hoseok if a small change would be possible, hoping it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle to him and his perfect plan.

When the following morning rolls around, the group gathers in the courtyard of the flat complex as instructed hours earlier by Hoseok, who looks like he’s on the verge of a serious crisis when it’s one minute past 8 a.m. and Taehyung still hasn’t shown up. Eunbi fears for her life when she taps his shoulder as delicately as she can, still unable to avoid a jumpy reaction from the boy, who then relaxes when he sees the girl’s sweet smile. That lasts for about one second, because when Eunbi softly asks him if they can talk he’s back to puffing out panicky breaths.

She hesitates a moment before uttering in one single exhale, “I’d rather not go in Jeongguk’s car.” Faced with Hoseok’s perplexed stare, she goes on explaining in a rushed, messy speech, “It’s nothing personal, really. It’s just- Iseul! Yeah, Iseul begged me to be in the car with Dahye… She doesn’t know Sora that well so she said it would be way too awkward. I can go with Namjoon!” She ends it by trying to sport a convincing grin on her lips, but with the way it looks like she’s being held at gunpoint to smile it’s doing the exact opposite, not helping in hiding her own panic at all.

Hoseok takes a few seconds to process her request and read her expression, but in the end he just shrugs and nods enthusiastically, “That’s okay!” He then claps his hands twice, recalling the others’ attention who comically snap their heads in unison, hanging on the boss’ lips, “Tiny change. Eunbi doesn’t wanna be in Jeongguk’s car, so she’s going with Namjoon.”

For the second time in under 24 hours, Eunbi is so embarrassed she prays the ground to swallow her whole. Hoseok doesn’t seem to be making a big deal out of the way he worded his announcement, busy typing away on his phone, probably updating his Word document with the recent change. The others don’t look too fazed either, accustomed with the two infamously not being too fond of each other for no apparent reason, except for Dahye and Jimin: the former is looking at the girl incredulously; the latter has shifted his attention to his best friend.

Eunbi can feel cold sweat dripping down her forehead, the weight of the world crushing on her shoulders. She’s afraid to follow Jimin’s line of vision, but as she slowly does, it leads her to meet Jeongguk’s intense gaze, a slight pissed scowl hardening his features along with his brows almost meeting at the bridge of his nose. His all black attire composed of an oversized t-shirt, cargo bermuda shorts and chunky sandals matches perfectly with the look on his face. He seems confused, and unnerved. And sad? This is not how things were supposed to unfold.

Under such pressure, the girl impulsively releases a nervous laugh, her whole face red with awkwardness, “It’s not like I didn’t- Okay! I’ll just go wait in the car.” Her head hangs as she distances herself from the group, finding an escape from Jeongguk’s disappointment in Namjoon’s car. She bangs her head on the dashboard a few times, making the most of the last minutes alone she’s getting before departure.

Starring in that shitshow was not on her list of things to keep in mind for Jeongguk’s birthday camping trip in any way. On the contrary, what she has been trying to do is going by the rules of the list itself: stay away from Jeongguk and don’t be a bother. Instead, the opposite seems to be happening every time she attempts to be nice to him so as to not be a hassle during the trip. Releasing a shaky breath, she hopes her intentions wouldn’t be misinterpreted by the boy, as she tries foolishly convincing herself the telepathy between them still exists, at least to a small extent. She was only doing this for him. To make it easier for him. Please, please send this telepathic message to Jeongguk.

Connection probably isn’t working too well, because when they all get to the destination after a fairly long ride, Jeongguk still looks pissed, shutting the car door with more energy than required and unloading the luggages, taking his and Iseul’s to the entrance of the camping site. Eunbi narrows her eyes as she observes the scene, the short haired girl thanking the previously annoyed boy and effortlessly putting a smile on his lips, and she almost doesn’t notice Namjoon urging her to move. She abruptly shakes herself out of that trance, relaxing her hands that had subconsciously closed into fists, and takes her bags out of the car. As she clumsily drags them on both of her shoulders, her Converses do little to protect her soles from the rocky ground, and she groans. It’s not like she was expecting Namjoon to carry her baggage, she can do it herself. But as she keeps watching Jeongguk easily handling all that weight, she huffs.

The campsite looks amazing. The space that the group has at their disposal is huge and wholly surrounded by nature, making it the perfect getaway from the chaos of the city. Not too far, in between trees, a glimpse of the sun reflecting its rays in a large lake can be caught. Eunbi witnesses an excellently carried out jam session, with the lively enthusiasm of her friends on microphone, birds on percussion and cicadas on bass. She smiles, and sighs contentedly. Dahye’s words from last night echo in her head, don’t let this stop you from enjoying the holiday, and today she wants to believe them. She’s glad she chose to wear jeans shorts instead of cargos, the heat slowly but surely rising, and a flowy white top that keeps her fresh, for now.

Hoseok instructs them to get to work, and they do. All their bags are gathered under a big ancient tree as each couple and trio starts (tries) setting their tents. While they’re busy figuring out how to ensure the tent won’t fly away, which Taehyung fears particularly, Jimin and Jeongguk offer themselves to go and fill everyone’s water flask at a nearby drinking fountain they had found. Eunbi kneels down to fish hers out of a blue backpack and goes to hand it out to Jeongguk, who’s collecting Dahye’s bottle. The boy smiles at her friend, but it gets wiped off when he shifts his gaze on Eunbi’s shorter figure. The moment is brief, and awkward: her big unsure eyes stare into his hardened ones, arm extended out to him, wondering if there might be something funny on her face for him to turn so serious; she hesitantly lifts her brows, waiting for something; Jeongguk looks her up and down, only to not acknowledge her water flask, and just walks past her.

Eunbi is dumbfounded, the tip of her ears reddening as she remains paralysed with her hand out, even after Jimin collects her flask, muttering something close to Don’t mind him, please accompanied by an apologetic smile. She regains consciousness of her surroundings only when, beside her, Dahye can’t help the snort coming out of her mouth, trying but failing to save it with her hand. The still shocked girl slowly turns to face her amused friend, mouth slightly agape and left eye clearly twitching, “Did he just… act as if I don’t exist.”

The situation shouldn’t be funny, but to Dahye it’s the peak of comedy as she keeps giggling the more the slow realisation of what has just happened shows on Eunbi’s features. Obviously, the latter can’t find one single reason to laugh about it, whining while the taller girl pats her shoulder, still smiling, “You really need to talk to him.”

The targeted girl ignores that, biting her nails nervously, ”Was he saying anything about… me, in the car?”

Dahye lifts her brows, shaking her head, ”Nothing. He’s probably talking shit about you with Jimin, though.” Eunbi follows her pointed finger and catches Jeongguk animatedly discussing with his flatmate, balancing the bottles in his arms, before they turn a corner. Eunbi fusses, lightly tugging on her braided pigtails, and she feels helpless as even the friend who’s supposed to be supporting her through all of this is chuckling at her. Despite being shorter, when Eunbi shoves Dahye’s shoulder she manages to make her stumble, but that doesn’t stop her laughs, though.

”You’re building the tent on your own.” Arms crossed and pout on, Eunbi isn’t joking as she goes to sit under the tree surrounded by bags and ignores her name being called out. Rather than reacting to it, she spots tiny bugs between the grass and inspects them for a while, pretending it keeps her distracted from what’s plaguing her mind. Soon after, with her knees to her chest, watching those ants working to transfer food from one side to the other inevitably gets her lost in her thoughts. What is she doing wrong? There’s clearly unresolved problems between her and the boy who brutally ignored her existence minutes ago, but she thought maybe if she started seeking for truce, then he would too. His response, instead, makes her realise no matter how much she tries, it’s apparently not enough to mend what happened all those years ago. She messed up worse than imagined.

The constant pondering makes her lose track of time, and she comes back to reality with undesired outcomes that she convinces herself to be true. When she recovers from the (as she has deduced, deserved) humiliation, Dahye has already set up half of the tent and Eunbi walks over to her bashfully, “Sorry for being childish. I’ll finish this, Hye.” The girl just smiles softly and nods, sending her a flying kiss that makes Eunbi chuckle before taking her previous spot under the tree. At least Dahye doesn’t hate her.

It takes her a while to figure out what to do but she soon grasps how hard a seemingly simple task can be, feeling bad for letting Dahye do a great part of it on her own. Still, she needs to work fast as lunch time is approaching, and everybody around her is almost finished. She has been crouching on a particular spot on the ground for a while now, trying to properly secure an angle of the tent unsuccessfully. Until she groans exasperated, puffing her hair out of her vision and lifting her body up to find a solution. She tries stomping on it a few times, but it doesn’t work, and if anything it worsens the situation. Huffing out, with her hands on her hips she looks around for help, and the first person her eyes fall on is Jeongguk.

He was already staring at her, comfortably sitting on a deckchair with his legs spread and sunglasses on. His tent looks perfectly set already, with Jimin seemingly fixing the inside of it. His hand is covering his mouth before he uses it to lift his glasses over his head, and is that a smirk? They both stare at each other in silence, Eunbi still struggling to breathe, and she hesitates slightly until her eagerness to be over with the tent becomes stronger. She speaks up to make herself heard over the small distance, “Can you- help me?”

Jeongguk narrows her eyes at her, initially not answering but not even moving from his relaxed position. The girl is ready to be met with silence again, but it’s something worse when he opens his mouth, “I think Namjoon would be happy to do that.” He’s as stern as ever as he returns the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, furtherly spreading his whole body on the chair and facing the sun. Only then, he releases a content sigh, smiling slightly.

All of this cannot be real. What does that even mean? Eunbi can feel her eye start to twitch again and she needs to clench her jaw to stop it. It’s okay. Breathe. She unexpectedly but successfully manages to hold herself from exploding on him, both overwhelmed with tent building and frustrated with his behaviour. She can’t really decipher what led him to not only act cold, as he usually is with her, which is fine, but also mean! But no problem, she’ll try once again. It costs nothing to be nice. And she tells herself she’ll stay that way, even if she’s met with the opposite, until he breaks.

The storm of negative emotions tormenting her thoughts can be distortedly seen as a good thing on one side, if she considers that the sudden adrenaline flowing in her body gets her through most of the task without any help, even mindlessly, while she keeps reflecting on the interaction and the previous ones. Why the fuck would Namjoon be happy to help her? Well, he would, he’s naturally a helper, but why did Jeongguk say that? Is he really that pissed about her going in his car? She tries to understand, she really does. Keep being nice is what she tells herself instead.

When the tent is finally up, only with Dahye’s finishing touches, and food is finally in her stomach, refilling her energy tank, it’s like there’s a switch going off in her head, making it seem as if nothing bad has ever happened. Eunbi is back to her talkative self with a full tummy and a bashful grin while her best friend teases her for the earlier tantrum she went on about, but at least it’s all smiles again.

The first day at the campsite is spent basking in the slowness that follows after ticking off the only two activities planned for today on Hoseok’s schedule: setting their tents and preparing meals for lunch and dinner. The boss then instructs the group on just getting acquainted with their surroundings, and they don’t need to be told twice, making the most out of those short remaining moments of ease.

The rest of those hours are used to laze by the huge lake, in between swims and sunbathes. Luckily, Eunbi had packed a few bikinis and she chose to wear a black set, its laces meeting at the back with a bow. Sitting back and taking it easy, before all that she will be faced with the next few days, gives her a chance to get closer to the others. During the earlier drive, she had the opportunity to chat with Sora and discover the sweetheart she truly is, and the car was then easily filled with laughter, mostly provided by Namjoon and Seokjin’s terrible jokes. She now sits by Sora on a beach towel, all the other girls in a circle catching up and laying by the sun. In the back of their gossip session, the boys could be heard laughing and squealing, and the sound reminded Eunbi of sweet childhood. She briefly shifts her attention to them and smiles when she observes how they’re doing the most to tire their energy out, from using a rope hanging by the branch of a tree to leap into the water, to initiating a volleyball match using one of their rolled up towels.

Eunbi grows even fonder than before of the people she’s surrounded with, the earlier stress leaving her body and being replaced by serenity, a small sigh released from her lips before she returns to listen to the girls’ chat. She laughs at something Dahye says and jumps on it excitedly, making the others chuckle at the two friends eagerly recounting one of their craziest uni experiences so far.

All of it is short lived when Taehyung and Jimin suddenly drop a water balloon over their heads, a collective gasp filling the space followed by the two boys’ childish giggles and Dahye’s screams, getting up to run after them. They all spend the rest of the afternoon trying to get back at each other with more pranks, bathing in the lake’s cold water and taking silly group pictures to seal the day. As the sun begins to set, they all sit on their towels and silently observe nature, definitely too tired to speak, and preferring to savour the sweet moment.

When the sun finally leaves its place for the moon to rise and the group of friends gets back to their tents, their stomachs growling signal it’s time for dinner. They take turns to shower using the nearby public structure and then help setting a campfire to cook. It also works as a very needed source of heat, given the temperature has significantly dropped and their bodies are still humid from washing up. Eunbi wears the grey cargos she had discarded earlier this morning when deciding on what to put on, and a white tee, her damp hair falling on her shoulders and making her feel slightly chilly. She comes up beside Yoongi to help him with the meat, benefiting from the warmth of the fire.

There’s not much talk between the two, only the older boy advising her to be careful of the flames every two minutes, but it’s comfortable. Eunbi still has a hard time reading through Yoongi, and maybe it’s what she enjoys the most about him: his aura is soothing and it exudes security. He doesn’t exactly show it, but he’s deeply attentive and caring of his friends, and the girl feels safe next to him. She can sense him looking over at her while the meat is cooking, and as she turns to him she meets his eyes with a smile. He ponders, scanning her face “You got sunburnt. You need to wear sunscreen tomorrow, or it’ll get worse.”

Eunbi chuckles, dragging her pointer finger up and down her red nose, “Yeah, I know. It kinda hurts but it looks like I have natural blush now!”

Yoongi shakes his head with a small amused scoff, “That’s stupid, Eunbi. Wait for me here, I’ll go get you an after-sun cream.” And even as he walks off, he reminds her to not stay too close to the fire. She thinks that’s an exact demonstration of what the boy is truly like in her head.

The girl keeps grilling the meat, humming unknown melodies under her breath, and she almost misses a broad figure sitting on one of the chairs surrounding the fire. When she looks up, it’s Jeongguk avoiding her eyes and instead staring at the flames, their light reflecting in his big orbs and making them shinier. He wears his bermudas from earlier, but he now has a grey Stussy hoodie on top of it. His locks are still wet after freshly coming out of a shower, and they curl on his forehead, making him look like a poodle. She smiles. It’s like 15 years old Jeongguk is there with her again, his bare, exhausted face and droopy eyes taking her back to Busan. Without even realising what she’s doing, she extends a cooked piece of meat his way, “You want some?”

Startled, the boy breaks from his spacing-out and registers the request. He looks between Eunbi and the meat, gulping. He licks his lips, and she swears she can also hear his stomach rumbling. When he keeps ogling the food without replying, she wiggles the fork and his eyes follow its every movement, as if hypnotised. Then, he suddenly screws his eyelids shut and breaks from the trance, simply shaking his head no and fishing his phone out of his pocket, mindlessly scrolling on it. Just like that, she’s back to the present, and Jeongguk hates her. Eunbi narrowly glares at him while he can’t see her.

Yoongi comes back soon after with two different creams in his hands, and he gives them to Eunbi with a chuckle. She thanks him and lets him take over the cooking, while she curiously inspects the products, still standing next to the fire. When Yoongi spots his younger friend on the chair, he asks the same exact question as her, forking a piece of meat, “You want some?”

Jeongguk’s attention is back up, this time on Yoongi, and when he sees what his hyung is referring to he eagerly nods. Eunbi interrupts her examination just in time to see the boy hungrily shoving the food in his mouth, brows furrowed and praising noises accompanying his munching, making the older friend by her side chuckle. Instead, the girl is once again in disbelief, even more as he watches Jeongguk patting his knee with force, satisfied with the bite, “Hyung, this shit is so good. I want more.”

Eunbi scoffs imperceptibly, leaving the scene with an annoyed scowl wrecking her pretty features. As she enters her tent, she’s glad Dahye is still showering as she makes the most of that isolating moment. She sighs wearily and whips out her phone. Using its camera, she tries to ignore her tumbling emotions and instead puts on the creams Yoongi had given her, but not even those are enough to distract her. She’s still incredulous at what she’s being put through, her patience wearing thin, and the pact she made with herself before coming here is dangerously close to being broken.

Dinner is spent with good food and even better people, and only then Eunbi visibly untenses again. In between bites and full mouths, they go from discussing random facts to casually engaging in games of Truth or Dare or Never Have I Ever, the beer bottles slowly being emptied while their tummies get filled. When they’re done eating, the relaxed smiles on their faces implicitly communicate how the meal has been the perfect ending to the lovely day spent together. Still, they stay by the fire and keep up an effortless chat. When one of them comments on the limpidity of the sky, its stars being perfectly visible in this zone of Seoul, they all look up and stare in silence at the fullness of the lights.

Even if it’s not too late, the weariness from being out in the sun for multiple consecutive hours is weightening down on most of them, Seokjin and Sora retiring to their tents, soon after being followed by Yoongi and Hoseok.

It’s a little past midnight, and Eunbi starts to feel more and more affected by the cool breeze, its effects showing on her prickled skin. She tries to warm herself up by rubbing her exposed arms with her hands, but it’s to no avail, “God, I’m so cold.”

A collective agreement follows her claim, with Iseul speaking up and curling herself into a ball on the deckchair she’s sitting on by taking her legs up to her chest and hugging them close, “Me too, it’s freezing.”

”Oh, I have a spare hoodie.” Both girls snap their heads at the voice, which belongs to Jeongguk. However, as he quickly gets up to retrieve the sweater from his tent, it’s not clear who between the two he’s referring to, their curious expectant eyes following his every movement. Eunbi has her reasons to feel so eager, given the fact that she has been begging for one nice interaction with the boy, a spark of hope lighting up in her chest at his offer. On the other hand, she doesn’t know why the other girl seems equally excited, twirling her short hair around her fingers as she waits for Jeongguk to come out of the tent again. She huffs, a pout ending on her features.

When the sought-after boy gets back with a blueish crewneck in his arms, both girls hold their breaths, the sudden tension going unnoticed by the others (except for Dahye, she’s like a psychic when it comes to her best friend’s emotions), until Jeongguk lays the piece of clothing on Iseul’s shoulders, coming behind her and then sitting on his chair again.

Iseul bashfully thanks him, the tips of her ears seemingly reddening while a sweet, alluring smile makes its way on her lips. Eunbi scoffs at that, and if looks could kill Iseul would be dead right now. The dirty look she sends her way luckily goes unnoticed, and she keeps hugging her own body trying to provide herself with warmth. When she shifts her attention to Jeongguk, he’s already looking at her, smirking. She can’t be convinced he isn’t doing all this on purpose.

Even with her teeth almost chattering, the neglected girl forces herself to stay with the others until the end, and with Namjoon and Taehyung retiring to sleep only six of them remain. Under a white full moon, the conversation doesn’t really follow a clear direction, steering from existential questions that none really have the answers to, to Jimin’s drunken adventures. Jeongguk giddily joins the recounting and adds many details to it, specifically highlighting the embarrassing parts that his roommate is trying to omit to save face, and making all of his friends laugh with their whole chest, Eunbi included. She simply can’t ignore the fact that he’s naturally charming, and hilarious as well. In the middle of his storytelling, his whole body gets involved and it makes the events seem even more impressive. Eunbi smiles when she compares the Jeongguk in front of her to the beloved one in her past, the one that would sit her down and force her to keep up with his running imagination, constantly up with new ideas for silly scripts.

Then it’s Dahye’s turn to share one of her experiences, and Eunbi inevitably gets thrown into the tale, which had seen the two friends drunkenly sneaking themselves into a concert. It’s like they’re perfectly mirroring Jimin and Jeongguk’s dynamic, because while Dahye is trying to leave out critical parts of the story, Eunbi strongly insists on specifying them with an unseen emphasis for 1 a.m., causing everybody to laugh along. In between chuckles, her eyes fall on Jeongguk, who is mindlessly scrolling on his phone and seemingly not paying attention. Throughout the recounting, she notices Jeongguk distractly listening but never laughing, and if he does it’s only after something said by Dahye. Slowly, the enthusiasm gets wiped off her face as she curls up on the chair, sulkily letting her friend finish telling the story.

Another hour of effortless conversation goes by, and Jeongguk is back to lively chatting again, his animated gestures and witty jokes getting laughter out of his friends, but this time Eunbi doesn’t join. She silently sets on observing the boy, despite being caught a few times. She really wants to understand the reason behind his behaviour, but there’s no factual explanation she can come up with other than the obvious reasons that put them in this situation in the first place. If that’s the case, there’s nothing much she can do other than going up to him and finally talking it out like the mature adults they should be, but with their petty, silent bickering she doesn’t think that’s happening any soon.

While she’s busy squinting her eyes at the boy, in a borderline creepy manner, she doesn’t notice Iseul crouching in half in laughter at something Jeongguk said, until she’s directly referring to her, “Oh god, Eunbi! Why did you never tell me Jeongguk was this funny?” Said girl is startled by the question and by the abrupt interruption that shakes her out of her trance, confusion written on her face and it must be evident with the way Iseul goes on explaining, “Dahye told me you’ve known him for a long time.”

All at once, the atmosphere is tense and maybe Iseul and Aera can’t feel it, but Dahye definitely can as she snaps her head to her friend, who’s staring directly into Jeongguk’s eyes. The two seem to be battling an unnamed war through eye contact, and the intensity of the boy’s gaze ignites something implacable in the girl’s chest, dangerously close to rage, and it has to do with all the feelings she’s had to bottle up in less than 24 hours. She scoffs, referring to Iseul but never breaking the staring contest with the boy, “Oh, is he? Don’t think I’m well acquainted with that side of him yet.”

If the tension wasn’t palpable to everyone before the comment, it surely is now, the only ones that have something left to say being the crickets and owls in the background. Jeongguk only snickers before washing a hand over his face, an unsettling smirk on his lips. He seems to finally acknowledge the other girl’s presence, but it’s not in the way Eunbi initially imagined it would go. Instead, it’s venom spitting out of his mouth, “You would've been if you weren’t so self centred, always wrapped in your own bubble all the fucking time.”

Eunbi's confidence falls as quick as her heart, a sudden force weighing on it and almost crushing it. She’s fast at hiding it, ignoring the slight sting she can sense in the back of her eyelids, her only goal is to shoot harder. She forces the fakest smile she can muster, “Self centred? Are you sure you're talking about me?” The affronted girl scoffs, loud and sarcastic, “Fuck, and I thought you'd know better than that, Jeongguk. You should try getting your head out of your ass and look around. Maybe you'd see how shitty you've been treating all of us-” me “-for these past weeks.”

Jeongguk is visibly taken aback, and it’s his heart falling this time, his face following suit. His broken features do little to hide the doubts plaguing his spiralling mind. Had he pushed it too far? Had he been actually so bad to his own friends? Seeing his contender’s face relaxing with victory makes him snap out of the sudden trance, as he regains consciousness fast. No, he hasn’t. Fuck this. Blinded by anger, he utters the unimaginable, “Speak for yourself when you say shit like that. As far as I'm concerned, I've been treating you fairly seeing the bitch you are.”

His eyes are as pitch as black, the stars in them that Eunbi would love to get lost into are unreachable now, almost as if a dark cloud had obscured them. It must be the pollution that's taking over his heart too.

She’s frozen in place as the cruel words echo in her mind, the force that was keeping her heart underwater had managed to crush it, and it was now coming up her throat, squeezing the air out of her lungs. Her ears ring with the sudden lack of oxygen, and she can only faintly hear Dahye’s raging comments coming in her defence against Jeongguk. She can only seem to focus on the cracking of the fire, though, its thumping noise suddenly unbearable, as she feels more and more engulfed in its flames. She forces all sounds to come back to her, strongly pulling herself out of her own plagued head, the boy in front of her now unrecognisable to her empty eyes.

Looking around, she notices all of her friends — his, after all — had gone extremely quiet, the pressure weighing on them too. She can't stand it, needs to get out. She wishes she had never agreed to this. So much for keeping her peace. Yet, she'll never give him the satisfaction of knowing how much that hurt her. She'll die before crying in front of him.

“Well, if you don't mind, the bitch has had enough now, so with all due respect, she's going to sleep.” With a forced tight lipped smile, she gets up in one fast movement and walks to her tent, leaving the others disoriented, and a still furious Dahye scoffing at Jeongguk. He follows her with his eyes until she disappears in her shelter, clenching his jaw and announcing his departure soon after.

Inside the tent, Eunbi takes several deep breaths trying to calm down, and she feels frail when she can sense her eyes prickle with tears. She tells herself it’s angry ones. Apparently, being nice isn’t enough, and she watches as the seal to her pact shatters with force, signalling no come back. Following suit, the puzzle breaks once again, and she’s left scrambling for the pieces falling, looking for the one that will start it over again. And this time, it’s going to be even harder.

[srjlvr]

hit me up! on Roblox > ( 이희승 )

҂ PAIRING ➤ idol!heeseung X idol-fem!Reader

҂ SYNOPSIS ➤ your past on roblox was…..something special. especially when your only friend who played roblox with you is now a famous idol. after years of disappearing and not logging in your old account you decided to do it and search for your long lost friend, lee heeseung. oh! and what a surprise! he decided to do the same thing after craving for some connection with his long lost friend, who’s now a famous idol.

҂ FEATURING ➤ rest of enha members , ot5 lesserafim , shin ryujin as yn.

҂ GENRE ➤ fluff , crack , childhood friends to strangers to friends to lovers (omfg).

҂ WARNINGS ➤ curse words (i cant hold it) , kms/kys jokes , roblox (idk if its a trigger but imma put it here) , obv annoying fans + i’ll include warnings in each ep if necessary !

҂ STATUS ➤ discontinued !

҂ TAG-LIST ➤ closed !

҂ NOTE ➤ please note that i do not remember a lot from roblox so sorry if i offend anyone in any kind of way!! HOPEFULLY i’ll be able to finish this smau too😭

!! DISCLAIMER !! everything here is FICTIONAL , if you don’t like it, don’t read it !! also, photos and so are NOT mine and i give full credits to the owners !!

PROFILES — ✧ ; mi less-fear👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻 ; epipen💯✅

— ✧ 01 ; ‘oh its lee heeseung’

— ✧ 02 ; ‘ilovejeonjungkook’

— ✧ 03 ; ‘im gonna cry myself to sleep’

— ✧ 04 ; ‘is that y/n…?’

— ✧ 05 ; ‘HAD A REUNION!!’

— ✧ 06 ; ‘living in denial might cause depression yk🤕🤕🤕’

tnx for supporting!!

••• copyright © srjlvr all rights are reserved.

[andkisses]

♡ roman holiday | sunghoon ♡

will this bucket list trip be the thing that finally forces you to face your feelings? or will it be the thing that tears the two of you apart for good?

♡ sunghoon x gn!reader | wc. 9.4k ♡ genres/tropes: childhood friends to lovers and the fluff and angst that comes with it, college!au (not obvious but implied), road trips ♡ mentions of/warnings: arguments, references to a toxic family environment, allusions to drowning, i think that’s all but lmk if there’s smth else that needs added! ♡ a/n: this has been a wip for SOO long we’re talking YEARS and has changed muses several times but i finally sat down to finish this and im so proud of what i managed <3 truly some of my favorite things ive ever written ! inspired by roman holiday by halsey! this is also the longest thing i think i have ever written <3

♡ masterlist ♡

The coffee ring on the counter stares back at you, warm brown against a stark egg white. You can’t tell if it’s old or new, and part of you doesn’t care. Another part wants to know, though, when the coffee stain was made and why it was never cleaned. The motel is practically empty, the older lady behind the front desk and a tired-looking family in the corner of the dining room are the only other inhabitants.

Through the windows, dressed quaintly with homesewn drapes, you see the tall mountain trees, dark green and prickly, stretching up to the crystal blue sky. The television across the room is set to the weather station, and the anchor talks about how a cold front could potentially lead to an early snow. 

A tray with various breakfast items clunks against the table, and the boy you’ve been traveling with settles in across from you, faux leather chair seat squeaking beneath in subtle “I’m hardly ever used” protest. His dark hair falls into his eyes messily, as if he only just now got up and rolled out of bed. The red flannel and vest he wears matches the surroundings, but looks absurd on your best friend.

“Sunghoon,” you start, interlacing your fingers and resting your chin on the bridge they form. Your eyes scan the tray, accounting each and every tiny portion of food. Eggs, both scrambled and hard boiled, some toast with an assortment of little jam containers, a little bowl of butter, two pancakes, half a waffle, and a few strips of bacon. “Thank you for getting everything,” you continue, leveling a stare over the top of your nose, “but you forgot the syrup.”

The boy in front of you blinks, bites his lips, and nods his head. A soft yeah, I forgot the syrup escapes his lips as he slides out of his chair, the pleather squeaking once again. “Give me like two minutes,” he says, “the breakfast bar is crazy to navigate. Do you see the things I do for you?” His smile is teasing.

“It’s no problem, Hoon—” Your voice trails off as he jogs off into the distance. You shake your head, feeling lethargic and sleepy beneath the slow-turning ceiling fan. Your gaze follows its metallic clink, and the fan seems as if it’s never been replaced in the 50-something years this establishment has operated.

You’re brought back down by a small tug on your sleeve, and when you look, it’s the little girl from the tired family across the room. She blinks up at you, not much unlike Sunghoon, innocent and full of curiosity. You nod your head, encouraging her to talk. The little girl takes a big gulp of air, dual pigtails bobbing, before, “I think your boyfriend is very nice and I like how he gets you your breakfast.”

The laugh that leaves you is easy, the statement hardly shocking at all. You’re used to it, strangers and acquaintances alike assuming the relationship status between the two of you. It’s nothing new. The little girl’s face is confused, her head listing to one side. You nod again, swallowing any additional laughter. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you reply, and you see a little bit of the light in her eyes diminish. “We’re just really good friends. He’s my best friend, actually.”

The girl’s brows furrowed together, a small pout forming on her lips. Obviously not the answer she was expecting. Then she nods, lips pursed. “Yeah, okay,” she mutters, seeming confused. Before she turns to walk back to her family, she looks back up and adds, “He’s a good friend. I would keep him as my friend for a long time.”

“That’s what I intend on doing, kiddo.” Your voice is quiet as the little girl skips back across the old, faded carpet towards her family. You see Sunghoon emerge from the breakfast bar, where everyone else at this motel must be. He waves small packets of syrup in the air. The smile that flits across your face is fleeting. You try to ignore, again, this feeling in your chest. Your voice is small, talking to yourself. “For as long as possible.”

***

The candy-colored Valentine stared back at you, practically mocking you. Third grade and only one Valentine. You tried to fight back the tears, attempted to sniff them back inside, but nothing worked. They fell, one by one, onto the homemade card, soaking through the pink construction paper and leaving roundly-shaped wet splotches across your only card.

You read the simple message, “Happy Valentine’s! – Sunghoon”, over and over and over again. You racked your brain, trying to figure out why, why, why no one else gave you a card. You were nice, you offered to help them when they needed it. It seemed like everyone liked you. They even let you sit by them at lunch.

So why?

The hand on your shoulder startled you, your head whipping up to face the figure standing beside the desk. It was Sunghoon, the boy who gave you the only Valentine in your possession. The edges of his dark hair curled around his eyebrows and the corners of his eyes. His brow scrunched with worry, and he ducked down to see your face.

“Are you okay?”

You shook your head, a bitter pout filling out your lips. “Does it look like I’m okay?”

Sunghoon shrugged, removing his hand to pull out the seat beside you. “I guess not.” He pursed his lips, hands clasped in his lap, before looking back at you. “What’s the matter?”

You flung the single Valentine—his own Valentine—back at him. The construction paper flew through the air before catching, floating down to land on the table by Sunghoon, who deftly picked it up and turned it over in his hands.

“It’s the only one you got?”

You nodded, crossing your arms on your desk and sinking into them. A heavy sigh left your chest and you sniffled, trying to keep the angry tears from falling again. You wished the day would end; that the bell would ring and release you so you could go home and cry somewhere comfier instead.

There was silence, then, “Does it matter if you only got one?”

You scoffed, still hidden in your arms. “Uh, duh? It means no one in this class likes me.”

“Then… why does it matter if everyone else doesn’t like you? Shouldn’t one person liking you be okay?”

You bit your lip. You can’t tell if you like his thinking or not. You decided not to respond.

You heard the chair scrape against the wood floor beside you, and you figured it was Sunghoon leaving to return to the other students. That was fine, you figured. It’s what you should expect, anyway. Even if he was the only one who gave you a Valentine, it was probably only because he gave the whole class Valentine’s. What a guy.

Then the chair was drug against the floor again, much closer this time. You popped your head up, a scowl still on your face, to see what was happening. Sunghoon had scooted it closer, and in his hands was another Valentine. You watched as he flipped the card over to the decorated side and skillfully pulled off the foam heart-shaped sticker, as if he’d had to do this thousands of times before.

His question is one you didn’t expect. “Where do you want to go?”

You look up at him, incredulous. “What do you mean?”

“Well, if you don’t have many friends here, you must want to be somewhere else?” Sunghoon shrugged, as if the thought made perfect sense to him. “Right?”

You pursed your lips, mimicking his shrug. “I guess you’re right...”

“Then,” Sunghoon began again, “where do you want to go?”

“Uhm, my house?” you answered. Crying on your fluffy bed would be much more comfortable than crying on this hard desk. Your arms were sore from resting on the edge and your back was stiff from the awkward angle.

Sunghoon shook his head. “No, think bigger. Like, vacation places and stuff.”

“Hmm... then, maybe, the big cities? The ones you always see in TV shows. And... the beach, because the ocean is really nice.”

Sunghoon nodded, diligently taking note of every place you suggested. His handwriting is a little crooked, but it fit on the now vacant front of a Valentine’s card. He looked up at you, eyes wide with question. “Anywhere else?”

You frowned, deep in thought. Then, as if someone tapped you on the shoulder and whispered it in your ear, an idea sprung to mind. “A really tall mountain, where it’s snowy all the time. No matter the season”

The pencil lead pulled across the paper, leaving information behind. Sunghoon returned to the top of the page, tapping the pencil’s eraser on the side of his cheek before scribbling a final note down. “There! It’s finished!” He slid it over in front of you.

You read the title of the list aloud: “The Wanderlist? But that isn’t even a word.”

Sunghoon shook his head. “It is now.” He leaned over, pointing at all the places you had stated. “And that’s everywhere we’re gonna go, because I’m your best friend now. We won’t be lonely, because we have each other. And we’re gonna travel all over.”

You sat up, leveling him a stare. “Well, this is gonna be expensive, you know. Trips aren’t free. They cost a lot.”

Sunghoon smiled, the kind that, even for a tin moment, makes everything seem like it’s possible. “Then we better start saving now!”

 ***

The pink paper stares up at you from its place on the dashboard, stuck with a random sticker right next to the air vent. The edges had aged, curling and warping, and your tear stains from 3rd grade are still faintly visible. You read over the list—your wanderlist, as Sunghoon had named it all those years ago.

1. Big cities (because TV) x2!!

2. The beach (because cool ocean)

3. Tall mountain (because always snow)

The big city had been marked off in 6th grade, when the class had a trip to the modern art museum, and again in 8th grade for a series of school-wide competitions, from writing and art to band to mathematics and science. Sunghoon had excelled at creative writing while you swept the math category for your region.

The beach was crossed off the day before the two of you left for college. How bitter it was that you had to be separated, together for ten years only to be settled in two different places. Yes, you weren’t that far away. A half day’s drive. But you both knew, deep down, how likely seeing each other was.

So you did something about it. The day before, you woke up before the sun. You loaded his car up with everything you would need for a daytrip, and you took off for the coast. You spent the whole day, afternoon, and evening parked at a spot on the beach. If you think about it now, you can still smell the seabreeze, imagine it in your hair. You can hear Sunghoon’s laugh, about what, you can’t remember. You do remember how happy you both were.

You remember sitting side by side, sharing a blanket over your shoulders as the seabreeze grew colder, watching the sun disappear on the horizon. You remember the thoughts you had–the ones you normally stamped down and annoyed. You should tell him. You’d been so close before. You wouldn’t even say the word to yourself, but you knew.

You didn’t say anything

“Can you believe these clouds?” Sunghoon says, slipping into the driver's seat and shutting the door. He places his keys into the ignition and turns like he always had. You watch the keychain you got him freshman year of high school swing from momentum. When you look back up, Sunghoon is watching you, leaning one elbow on the center console, hair in his eyes. “I suppose even the weather believes my sunny disposition is more than enough.”

“Oh, please,” you scoff, smacking his shoulder. You turn to look out the window, biting your lip. You’ve got to get it together. You blame that little girl from breakfast. You’d been doing just fine not thinking about Sunghoon in That Way. Now here you were, all these stupid feelings drummed up.

It doesn’t help that Sunghoon pulls out a cassette–MT-PSH-5–and pops it into the player. His smile grows wide as he turns out of the parking lot and onto the road, heading further up the mountain. “Nothing like some classic tunes.”

It was dumb. It didn’t mean anything.

It’s all you can think about.

Sneaking out late, hot summer heat still sticky and oppressing. You could feel the waves rise up from the concrete as it finally felt relief in the moonlight. You’d felt like dressing up, sneaking into your mother’s room and applying her fancy department store perfume to the nape of your neck. Your fingers gracefully found her pearls in the glass bowl on the dresser as you left, and you pulled them over your head, letting them rest against your collar bone. They’re still cool against your hot skin.

You escaped through the back patio, walking past the fist-sized hole in the drywall you wished you could forget about. The dusty edges kept raining down debris if someone walked too close to it. You let yourself out the gate in the fence, pulling it shut behind you. You felt for the keys to the front door in your pocket, and they jingled in response. You clasped your hand around the cool metal, the cuts sharp and edgy beneath your palm.

He met you at the corner of his street and yours, his dark hair swallowing up the soft moonlight. It made his features seem younger, softer. It felt like you were kids again.

You fell in line beside each other, walking the empty streets without fear. Who was to stop some teenagers walking the street at midnight? Random cars passed by, people finally returning home from the late shift but paying no mind to you two. And that was fine; you didn’t want them to care.

The black gates around the community pool glinted in the yellow streetlights, reaching out to you like a beacon. The closer you drew, the more the overwhelming scent of chlorine filled the air. You walked forward, hands in your jacket pockets, one wrapped tightly around your house keys. You took a deep, steadying breath. This was fine. You had this.

“Hey, [Y/N], do we really have to do this?”

You rolled your eyes, pulling your hands from your pockets and grabbing the top of the fence. You’d have to pull yourself up, and be extra careful of the metal pickets at the top. It’d be tough, but you could make it. “What?” you snapped back lightly, voice echoing amongst the night. “Scared of hopping the fence?”

“No, that’d be ridiculous,” Sunghoon replied, crossing his arms and shifting his weight to rest on one foot. “Jumping fences is nothing for me. Jumping fences into property that—” he pointed to a white and red sign just beside your knees. “—considers jumping fences into property after hours as illegal and trespassing? That sets me on edge.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes again. “It’s not like they’ve got police roaming around or anything, and the owner’s too cheap for security cameras. I’m sure if we tried hard enough, we could just pull the fence down instead of having to jump it.” For emphasis, you grabbed hold of the rods and shook. A loud metallic echo escaped into the night, and before you could pull back and shake a third time, Sunghoon had dashed to your side, placing his hands on yours to stop you.

His brown eyes caught the light as he shook his head back and forth and hissed, “If you’re going to do something illegal, do it quietly! Especially when I’m here.”

You leaned forward, head inching towards his, with a scowl on your face. “Then shut up and hop the fence.” You drew back, replacing your hands at the top and pulled yourself up and over with ease. Maybe mandatory PE did have benefits.. Your sneakers landed on the pavement, and when you stood upright from the landing, you stared at Sunghoon through the bars. “You can either join me,” you began, a smirk on your face, chin tilted up, “or you could just wait while I go and find my car keys.”

You turned on your heels, walking towards the lifeguard’s shack. You could have sworn the sigh you heard was strong enough to blow the fence down altogether

Your shoes scuffed against the concrete, and you felt the humid air of the pool spill over and try to reach out to you. Its arms clung and bit at your ankles as the water inside sloshed around with the teasing wind. You shook them off, changing course from the pool’s edge to the guard’s shack. The padlock on the door seemed old—really old—and you crossed your fingers before giving a giant tug and having it pop open in your hands.

The wooden door swung open and you stepped inside the dingy shack. Various lost pool toys littered the floor, and a box of deflated tricolor beach balls appeared to have seen better days. But you weren’t interested in any of that: you needed your car keys. Above you, nestled nearly at the top of the peaked roof was a loft filled with white plastic bins. One of them, you noted, was closer to the edge than the others, as if someone had lazily swung it up there.

You crossed your fingers again, reaching up to pull the basket down to you. “Please be there, please be there, please be there,” you chanted under your breath. You peered into the basket. On top, someone’s embroidered handkerchief. You pinched the soft material between your finger and thumb before tossing it aside in the basket. Someone’s crazy straw, two Rubik’s Cubes, a school ID lanyard, and—yes!

You fished your car keys out with one hand and swung the basket back up into the loft with the other. You turned to leave, ready to find Sunghoon, reunite with your car, and drive home, but before you can even take a single step back out you’ve run into something.

Or someone.

Your scream’s instantly shushed by your best friend, a single finger coming up against your lips. Sunghoon was so close, and you felt the pool humidity roll off his shoulders as he looked at you with confusion. “Are you done?” he asked. “And why are you screaming?”

You shook your head, holding up your keys. “Yes. Also, you scared me. How did you get in here? I didn’t think you’d hop the fence.”

“Didn’t have to.” Sunghoon held up a matching padlock to the one you’d pulled off outside. “Looks like the owner’s too cheap to buy actual locks for his gates. I simply walked in.”

You left the lifeguard’s shack, replacing the lock and headed for the entrance, where Sunghoon easily swung open the wrought iron gate. You walked towards your car as Sunghoon redid the lock, simply looping it through and clicking it shut.

You kissed your car keys and unlocked the doors, swinging down into the driver’s seat. Sunghoon slid into the passenger seat beside you, and as soon as his door shut, the engine was starting and you were pulling out of the parking spot.

“Let a guy put on his seatbelt first?” Sunghoon joked as he clicked his into place. “I don’t see you wearing yours, [Y/N].”

“Then you’re not looking close enough,” you replied, taking one hand off the wheel to pull at your own seatbelt. “Seems as if someone isn’t paying attention.”

“Forgive me, I was busy making sure no one saw our illegal activity. I would like to graduate high school next year with a clean record.”

You laughed something similar to a scoff as you flicked on your turn signal and made your way down his street. “You say that as if we robbed a bank. Is it really trespassing if the locks don’t even work? The wind could have undone them.” You turned to catch a glance at your friend, and what you caught was a judgmental glare in the green glow of the dashboard.

With a simple curve of the steering wheel, you pulled in front of his house. You shifted the car in park and rotated towards the passenger seat. “Thanks for breaking the law with me, Sunghoon. It means a lot. I’m touched.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. He leaned towards the door, making as if to pull the handle and open it, when he reached inside his pocket. His eyes lit up and he turned back towards you. “Oh, yeah!”

You shook your head, confused. You hold a single hand up. “Oh, yeah, what?”

“Here’s that mixtape you wanted,” Sunghoon answers, placing a cassette tape in your unintentionally outstretched hand. You scowled. You didn’t know how he had the technology to make a cassette in this day and age, but then again, you were the one with a car so old it still had a cassette player. You two were a pair, you supposed.

“When did you finish it?” you asked, spinning it around in your hands. The clear, Sharpie handwriting read MT-PSH-5 on the short white label.

“This morning,” he replied, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

“Why didn’t you give it to me earlier, then?” You turn to look at him. The yellow glow of the streetlights blend in with the green of the dashboard lights. His eyes remained that entrancing brown color, though. Romantic and homey all at once, untouchable by any other shade.

Sunghoon shrugged. “Perhaps it was because you didn’t have a car to play it in when I finished it? It was unavailable to you, shall we say.”

“Ha, ha, very funny.” You kept turning the cassette in your hands, as if you’d find something new and exciting on each turn.

“Oh, and—” Sunghoon leaned across the center console, reaching to take the tape from your hands, like he had something to say or show you. But he stopped. His brows furrowed together, and he turned to you, face mere inches from your own. “Are you wearing perfume?”

You nodded. “Yeah. My mom’s, and I got mad at her since she got mad at me about the car so I...”

An eyebrow quirked up. “You’re showing your mom up by stealing some of her perfume?”

“It’s expensive,” you muttered, sliding down into your seat. “She’ll have to pay for it later. Literally.”

And with that, he laughed. Nice and hearty and his eyes turned into tiny crescent moons and you felt your heart flutter—something that had happened a lot as of late, and you’re not entirely sure why. Yes, Sunghoon was a good friend. A best friend. But that’s all he was. He—

“Hey.” Your attention snapped from a distance spot on the road over to him, and he felt even closer now for some reason. Your heart registered how soft he’d spoken and proceeded to beat faster because of it. His eyes searched yours, but for what you don’t know. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. “Make sure you get home safe, okay? Wouldn’t want anything happening to the city’s greatest delinquent.”

“Yeah,” you laughed, but it was short and stilted. You barely heard what he said over the thumping of your own blood in your ears. You felt the red flush creep up your neck, dusting your cheeks and turning your ears a cherry color. When you swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry, all you could think about was how loud it seemed. Your grip on the mixtape tightened, it seemingly the only thing tethering you to the real world.

You couldn’t tell if the radio was one or not or whether you’d turned car off and left the keys in the ignition. All you could tell was Sunghoon, so close and so real he almost seemed unreal. And then it happened. He leaned in, eyes fluttering shut before placing a soft kiss on the side of your cheek, right next to your lips. It happened too fast and it was the slowest moment of your life all at once. Your heart was practically screaming now, hands rattling around the mixtape.

When he pulled back, he kept going, opening the car door and stepping out. Before closing it, he leaned in and nodded. “I meant what I said about getting back safely. Promise?”

You nodded. “I promise.” You were surprised your voice worked at all. That you were able to form a coherent, albeit a simplistic, sentence. That you could think at all. The door swung shut and you shifted the car into drive.

The whole way home felt automatic, limbs working separate from your internal instructions. When you returned home, you pulled up beside your mailbox and turned the car off, pulling the keys and letting them rest in your hand. You sat motionless, seatbelt still in place, as you stared, eyes fixated at someone mindless spot on the dashboard. The pearls were cool against your heated skin.

It was dumb. It didn’t mean anything.

It’s all you can think about.

You flip the mixtape over in your hands, reading the slightly-faded yet still legible handwriting. MT-HVC-5. You’d run through the songs already, and Sunghoon had switched to some CD mixes he had brought. Why he didn’t get a car with Bluetooth, something you’d done a while ago, you’d never know. Maybe that was part of his charm. 

You’d managed to learn to forget about that kiss, or at least ignore it. But Sunghoon pulling out the mixtape he’d given you that night pulls it back up to the surface. You aren’t even sure how it even got into his possession. The longer you recall the memory, the more you can feel the burn on your cheek from where his warm lips touched your skin. The rest of the flush comes back from how you wish so badly it would happen again.

  “What’s up?”

“Huh?” You turn towards his voice, away from the window.

“I asked what’s up,” Sunghoon repeats, looking over at you for a split second before returning to the road. “You seem like we’re on another planet.”

“Just thinking about when we were younger, you know...” Did he? What did you want him to think about? The day you’ve been obsessing over? And then what would he do about it? Pull over and confess? Kiss you, but mean it this time?

Sunghoon laughs, breaking your thoughts. He spares another quick glance in your direction. “Younger like what? Like third grade or two days ago?”

You reach across the center console to smack his shoulder. “Why would it be two days ago?”

“We were younger then. Wild, foolish.” Sunghoon takes one hand off the wheel and places his knuckles on his forehead. “The way we were is actually unimaginable now.”

“I’m done with you.”

Sunghoon scoffs. “Sure you are.” A quick beat, a hum to the music. “Anyway, what were you thinking about?”

You’re quiet for a moment. Then, “Do you think we'll change?”

“We have changed.”

“Really?” He said it so simply, it takes you off guard. You turn to look at him, even though you know he’ll keep his eyes glued safely to the road.

“Yeah,” he shrugs. “We’ve totally changed. We don't like the same kinds of music as the old us used to. We don't eat mac and cheese for every conceivable meal—except for the day after that one chem exam.”

“That final was hard!” You reach across the center console to shove at his shoulder–oh, god, why do you keep finding ways to put your hands on him?–earning a smug grin. “None of it was covered in class and you know it!”

“See what I mean?” Sunghoon asks. “We're different, but like, a good different. We’ve adapted.”

The silence that fills the car after isn’t weighty or overbearing. It’s comfortable and common, safe like a child-loved security blanket. Yet, somehow, your stomach fills with stones of dread, and all you want to do is sleep off any bad feelings.

You keep your eyes trained ahead, the curving mountain road, when you ask, “Do you ever think we'll be bad different?

Sunghoon spares a confused glance at you, brows knit together as he switches focus between you and the road. He shakes his head. “No, not us. Never us.”

“Is that a promise?”

The hand closest to you leaves the steering wheel and drifts over the center console, pinky out. “Always.”

You wrap your pinky around his, and try to ignore the heated flush you feel creeping up your neck and the backs of your ears. You focus, instead, on how real Sunghoon feels. How solid the mixtape is in your hands. How, here out in what feels like the middle of nowhere surrounded by evergreens and roadside snow piles that have started to pop up and tall mountain views, time doesn’t feel like it can get you.

Maybe he’s right.

Maybe, out here, there’s only good different.

Maybe, that’s all you need.

The clouds from the morning have turned darker, more potent. You can smell rain in the air, hear it as the wind rushes through the trees. It’s so cold though, you wonder if it will snow instead. The mountain weather you’d been looking forward to for so long.

Sunghoon knocks his shoulder into yours, cheeks pink from the cold. He swings your duffle bag towards you, letting go of the strap before you’ve gotten a good grip on it. “Your luggage,” he declares, before marching towards the hotel entrance.

You’d both decided, with your combined measly college student incomes, that wherever the last hotel would be, it needed to be the best you could afford. Standing in front of it now, styled like a fancy chateau with white walls and a red roof, you think the two of you made the right choice.

You had forgot what made such a nice place so affordable, until Sunghoon swipes the key, opens the door for you, gesturing for you to walk in first. The room is cute and delicate, with pretty yet aged wainscotting, petite floral wallpaper, a nice view of the surrounding mountains and–

And one bed.

You freeze. You can’t help it. Maybe the you from this morning, before that girl talked to you, could handle this. The you of right now? The lady at the front desk calling you a cute couple, and Sunghoon going along with it and not correcting her, didn’t help. You aren’t sure if you’re strong enough to keep everything the same.

“Rats,” Sunghoon says, and you breathe a sigh of relief. He’s not cool with this either, you think. He turns toward you with a coy smile. “I’m gonna go back downstairs and ask for more pillows. Three simply won’t cut it. Want me to ask for some fancy water?”

You shake your head, voice gone, and you don’t move until you hear the door shut behind Sunghoon.

And that’s when it starts, as you drag your feet in circles trying to think your way through this. Your hands clench and unclench, fists forming so tightly you leave half-moons from your nails in the fleshy part of your palm. Your breath comes ragged and shallow, and you feel like drowning, except from too much instead of not enough. Too many memories reminding you of too many things. Too many emotions leading to too many feelings you neither want to recognize or acknowledge.

But one keeps pushing its way to the forefront, demanding attention and definition. The one that’s been bothering you all day. It makes you dizzy, to the point you feel you need to lay down and clutch at your stomach. Maybe that’s it, you think as you sit on the edge of the one bed. You’re just sick. Breakfast was bad. But you know it’s not. It makes you angry, because how dare you feel this way about him. It makes you flustered, since you shouldn't look at your best friend's face and have your gaze wander to his lips and wonder what they'd feel like against yours.

It makes you happy, so undeniably happy that you feel like crying, because it feels so right. When you allow yourself to think more about it, and imagine what life would be like if you were able to confirm and agree with all the strangers who already think you’re dating. Lovers. It fills you up with breaths of fresh air to the point it's like floating on cotton clouds.

It makes you fearful. Its dark side claws at your heart, threatening to tear at the tender seams and leave you bloody and raw, so intensely damaged you're afraid of doing anything along the same lines. You had asked about a bad different, and Sunghoon said it wasn’t possible. Right now, you feel like you have to disagree–confessing this? Altering the relationship you’ve carefully crafted for so long?

That would be a bad different.

That’s why, when Sunghoon comes back, three more pillows and a bottle of sparkling water, you don’t answer. You roll over on the bed, curling up away from him, hiding with a pillow on your head. You hear Sunghoon say something about it being a long drive, and he gets it, you should rest. You hear him open the closet door, then feel the spare blanket get draped over you.

And, as you lay here, hot silent tears threatening to spill over and run down your cheeks, you let yourself think about it. You're in love with your best friend. Your nail-bitten palms come to swipe at your eyes, you make the mistake of sniffing aloud. Sunghoon calls your name, and you hate how much you savor the worry in his voice.

But, it’s also too much. He can’t know, you decide. Not now, not ever. That is what would be best, you decide, for the two of you. To be able to get through the rest of this trip.

“[Y/N], what is it?” he calls again. Sunghoon’s voice is laced with care, something tender and soft and so distinctly him it pulls at the tears in your eyes. How can he make this so unfair? “What's wrong?”

“You wouldn't understand,” you snap, pulling yourself to sit up, the pillow falling off. You don’t look at him, but instead at your hands, fists in your lap. Sunghoon easily notes your posture, and confusion floods his features. You hate how quickly he can figure out something’s wrong, that something is bothering you.

“Can I try to understand, at least?” You look up at him, lips pursed, tears smarting your eyes. You take him in–turned towards you in the chair, sitting on the edge, like he can jump to your rescue at any time. The confused look in his eyes hurts—you've always been straightforward with one another. But you know you can’t about this. “I can’t try to fix it if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” 

     You shake your head, wiping one of your cheeks with your fingers, a half laugh falling from your lips. “No, Hoon it's—”

   “No.”

The force of the single word hits you, and it hurts more than the angry look in his eye.

   He stands, takes a step toward you, then sits hesitantly on the edge of the bed. He's close, and he's been closer, but it's still too much. The rushing sound is back in your ears and your heart pounds against your ribs, telling you to do something, anything, but you stay still.

   “Hoon—”

   “I said no, [Y/N].” Sunghoon’s words are ice, colder than the breeze outside and sharper than butcher knives. His eyes, once warm and homey, that romantic shade of brown you love, are now dark and piercing. “You don't get to call me special names when you aren't telling me what's wrong. When you aren't acting like the [Y/N] I've known since third grade.” His hands come up to run through his hair, and it flips slowly back into place. His voice drops, the softer, confused Sunghoon returning. “You've been acting weird this whole trip, and especially since this morning. It's driving me insane that I can't figure it out and fix it. I know you better than this.”

   He's so close, so, so close. Much too close. Somehow he’s scooted towards you on the bed. You can smell his cologne—when did he start doing that? Why hadn’t you noticed earlier? His eyes are back to the romantic brown, the warm and homey color, the ones that remind you of so many good memories—his eyes are so pretty. Your gaze follows its past patterns and drops to his lips, redder from being gnawed on with worry. A kiss would—

   A shaky breath leaves you, and you're talking before you realize, voice so small it's hard to hear. But Sunghoon is listening. He always does.

   You blink. “Do you want to know what's wrong?”

   “Of course. I need to know if I can do anything or—”

   “It's you.”

You want to be upset, angry. How dare it come to this. But you can’t, you realize. You can’t be angry at him. Whatever energy you had coursing through your veins leaves after your pseudo confession, and you turn away, resting your weight on the headboard, hoping he’ll go away. 

This, for certain, was bad different. You can feel it, weighing you down. Here, in a chilly, single bed hotel room, you’d ruined everything. Your brain told you to shut up, to be quiet, to try and save anything you could manage from this shattering relationship. But your mouth—or maybe your heart—kept going, and going, and going.

“It’s you,” you repeat, turning back towards him. He’s still there, frozen in place, face filled with concern. “It’s everything you do. The way you... you tell me bad jokes when I’m upset over a grade or make me mixtapes because you want to share your music with me. It’s–I’m–I’m sick of it. I hate it. I hate you”

Sunghoon recoils, eyes wide. He looks around the room, as if the answers to what to say are hidden around. He stands, backing up without turning away, like you’re something he has to keep his eyes on or he’ll get hurt again.

Again.

Sunghoon’s voice is flat when he speaks, like he’s out of breath. Shaky, like he’s about to cry, too. What have you done? “I’m… I’ll go downstairs and ask about if there’s anything nice around for dinner. I’ll–I’ll wait for you in the lobby. Whenever you’re ready, you know.”

Even now, after the nasty things–after I hate you left your lips–he’s still trying to make peace with you.

What did you do to ever deserve him?

And would he even stay with you once you return home?

The door falling shut is what starts your tears again. You slump down off the bed, between it and the window. You pull your knees up to your chest, put your head in your hands, and you cry.

***

It still isn’t over.

You’re breathing heavy, tears still stinging your eyes, but you aren’t sure if you’ve actually cried yet or not. Your fists are balled at your sides. Years of friendship are stuck in your throat, enough to make you want to scream or cry or vomit from the nauseous feeling it induces. The pouring rain, those clouds finally opening up, doesn’t help.

Dinner had been awful, awkward. The only person either of you talked to had been the waiter. You can’t remember what the food tasted like. You can’t remember what, if any, songs played on the radio on the way back. Sunghoon hadn’t bothered to pick anything out. All you could remember, or hear, or see in your head–I hate you. The look in his eyes. How he has barely looked at you since.

You aren’t sure what you have to do to get away, but you’d be willing to make a deal.

Anything to get away from this moment.

Anything to get away from your best friend.

Sunghoon stares at you like he’s only just now met you, and maybe he has. He’d stopped you halfway between the car and the hotel’s entrance, despite the rain. He’d called your name in such a way you froze. Your angered confession from earlier hangs in the air, untouched or acknowledged. A single parking lot light illuminates you two, dim yellow casting shadows through the rain.

“Do you mean that? What you said?” he asks, daring to step forward. You don’t move, anchored in place. By fear or something else, you aren’t sure. He takes another, then a third. The gap between you has been halved. “I know you don’t mean it. I’ve been thinking about it this whole time. You don’t mean it.”

“What makes you so sure?” you spit, taking a step closer in your upset. You level Sunghoon with a stare you hope is intimidating, bitter. You hope he sees the duress. You have to push him away. “I said what I said. I hate you, Park Sunghoon.”

The boy shakes his head, hair stuck to his forehead from the rain. He seems almost incredulous, and it angers you even more. Why doesn’t he get it? There’s a small smirk at the corners of his lips, but you’ve known him long enough to recognize it as mock confidence. “You didn’t mean what you said.”

“I did!” Another step, and now you’re nose to nose with him, staring into the eyes you’ve had memorized for so long, that romantic brown even in the rain and yellow streetlight. Your gaze betrays you and you drink in the slope of his nose, see how his eyes examine you as well. Note the downturn of his lips, almost unnoticeable. Your voice is weaker when you speak again. “I did mean it, Sunghoon.”

He leans in, closer and closer until he stops–a breath away from your lips. He freezes, closes his eyes, and waits.

And you cave, despite your best interests. You find yourself tilting your head and wishing he’d do something more. This can’t be how your first kiss with Sunghoon goes? When he pulls back, and you nearly stumble forward. You look up at him, and the smile on his face is no longer mock. You know what his question will be before he says it, and you know he’s caught you in your lie. “You hate me so much–why did you kiss me back?”

You want to spit back, I didn’t! You want to argue. But the truth is, ever since you’d remembered that day in high school, you’d been imagining what it would be like to actually kiss him, and again, and again. You wanted to know what kissing Sunghoon would be like, even if it meant redefining the relationship you worked so hard to keep as is. The one you said you hated him to protect.

Sunghoon gently cups the sides of your face, forcing you to look at him, and you see worry and concern etched into the space between his brows, spilt in the color of his eyes. “Tell me,” he whispers, voice almost breaking, “what’s wrong. Let me try to fix it.”

You shake your head, trying to form words to explain everything, but all you do is shiver drastically beneath his touch. You watch as Sunghoon’s eyes grow wide, and he leads you inside, arm over your shoulder. The woman at the front desks awards you a quirked eyebrow, but that’s all you get before she returns to her clipboard.

The room is icy cold when you return, but Sunghoon adjusts the temperature in silence. “You get dry first,” he says, pointing at the bathroom. “Take a shower and get warm.”

“But about you?” You want to point out the subtle shake in his hands, and the way his breath catches. “There’s not enough towels to share.”

“I’ll ask for more at the front desk. I’ll be fine. Go.”

The shower water never feels hot enough, but you do stop shivering. You do your best to towel dry your hair. When you peek the door open to see if he’s back, and if you could get your things, you see that Sunghoon has already done it for you. Everything you could need taken from your bag, folded and placed nicely right outside the door. You have no idea when he did it–you’re thankful he did.

When he comes back with extra towels–which, surely, did not take this long–you’re curled up on the bed, similar to before. You rest your weight on the headboard, looking out the window at how the rain patters against the glass. You wish you could see the stars.

Sunghoon is fast, but who’s to say? You aren’t exactly keeping track of time. You know he’s back because you feel the mattress shift. His voice is almost silent when he speaks. “Can we talk?”

“About what?” you ask, turning towards him. You haven’t seen Sunghoon look this tired in a while. And you know it’s your fault. “How I was mean to you?”

Sunghoon smiles, looking down at his clasped hands. He takes a moment to determine what he actually wants to say. “Let’s start with…what it is about me that made you say that?”

His eyes are pleading in the dark. The room is barely lit, the overhead light off. There’s just a lamp on the desk and the streetlight from outside. The rain sound is almost overwhelming in the silence. “If there’s something I’ve done that hurt you–”

“It’s not that. It’s–” You pause, trying to find the right thing to say. You decide to start with the obvious. “There’s a reason I kissed you outside.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “Yeah, because I’m charming and irresistible.”

“This is serious!” You do what you always do when he makes some kind of quip–you reach out to push his shoulder, scooting closer, but Sunghoon catches you by your wrist.

“I am serious. Do you know how much you hurt me when you said you hated me?” He levels you a stare, one that makes you want to shrink away, but you can’t. “When I left, I didn’t ask the front desk about restaurants. I went to my car and sat down and cried because the person I love just said they hated me.”

“You love me?”

“Not like that,” he corrects, and now you have to know what he means.

“Tell me how then.” You take your free hand and grab his other wrist, a mirror of what he’s done to you. “When you say you love me, what do you mean?”

“It’s not like you think, not like what it has been.” Sunghoon looks down, takes a deep breath, then carries on.  “Not like friends, or like siblings, but like–”

“Lovers?” you offer.

Sunghoon swallows, sets his jaw. Then, “Yes. Like that. And I don’t know when it happened. I don’t know if it was overnight or gradual or all at once. I do know that I woke up one morning and I realized that I didn’t want to imagine my future with anyone else. And I didn’t want to see you with anyone else, either.”

“Kinda selfish,” you say.

Sunghoon laughs. “Yeah. I couldn’t help it.”

Somehow, you’ve both moved closer to each other. The knees of your crossed legs knock into each other. You still have a hold on the other’s wrist. Sunghoon levels you another stare. “Will you tell me why?”

“Why I said I hated you?” He nods, and you take a deep sigh. “Do you remember the night we snuck into the pool to get my car keys back?”

He nods again, a small smile on his face. “You mean the first night I got enough courage to kiss you? You looked so pretty, with the pearls and the perfume.”

You blush, hearing Sunghoon talk about you like that. “That night. I’ve been thinking a lot about it. And you know how all these people always say we look like a couple or whatever. And it all just stuck together and made me realize that I haven’t seen you like a friend in a long time. I’ve seen you like–”

“A lover?” Sunghoon offers, copying you from earlier.

You smile. “I said I hated you because I was afraid and overwhelmed, and I need you away from me. I thought that if you hated me, I could get over you and just move on. We could make up, and I wouldn’t have these feelings anymore, and we could go back to being friends.

“But if I’m being honest,” you add, moving even closer. Your shoulders knock into one other. “Even though it wasn’t even that long, those hours over dinner just now were some of the worst things I have ever had to do. I was ugly to you, Sunghoon, and you’re the last person on earth who would ever deserve to be talked to that way. But if you could forgive me, I…”

You try to look down again, but Sunghoon lets go of your wrist to place a finger under your chin, tipping your head up to his gaze. “You what?”

“I love you. I’m in love with you, I’ve been in love with you. I love you, Park Sunghoon.” You take a deep breath, just as lightning strikes somewhere far away and the thunder rumbles through the room. 

Sunghoon reaches out for you, his hands reach cupping your face again. It’s the most reverent you’ve ever seen him. His eyes roam over your every feature, as if you’ll break if he breathes too hard. It’s thrilling. “Genuinely?” he asks, voice fragile. “You love me?”

“Yes,” you whisper. It feels wrong to be too loud right now, like someone else could join in this moment between the two of you. “And if you would have me, I’d like to love you for a long time after this.”

Sunghoon pulls you to him, resting your forehead against his. He takes a deep breath. Then, “We’ve both just been really, really stupid about it, haven’t we?”

You laugh, savoring his touch and his warm and his smile. You stare into his eyes, those romantic brown ones you love so much. “I guess so.”

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and your heart jumps. “I know we did outside, but that’s a terrible story for a first kiss.”

“And the one from so long ago doesn’t count, because you just gave me a kiss then,” you say, not sure why you’re rambling when you have the opportunity to just kiss him already.

So, you shut up, and you do.

This kiss is reverent, unlike any that came before. You probably shouldn’t even bother comparing them. Maybe it’s the intentions behind the kiss—that you both want to be here, doing this, for the sake of just being, not proving. Maybe it’s because it hasn’t followed any dramatic late night outings or arguments. Maybe, it’s how you shiver closer to his frame, hands on his shoulders, and his own find the small of your back. You feel his smile against your lips, and the butterflies against your ribs.

Maybe, you should have said something a while ago. You could have avoided the whole I hate you stint, but then would anything else have been dramatic? Some couples are like puzzle pieces, perfectly fitting together with no stress. And maybe you two are a puzzle, one that fits together with ease, but you both intentionally hid pieces from the other, making it difficult to complete. Maybe airing grievances is the only way to get all the pieces back on the table.

You sigh as Sunghoon’s lips travel from your own down the line of your jaw, tickling in a delightful way. You feel safe in his arms, a safe you’ve always felt, but now it feels like something more, something even greater. Your heart jumps, and you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him close. Sunghoon instinctively holds you tighter, his hands against your shoulder blades.

“What is it?” he asks.

You shake your head, finding any words to be incredibly difficult. “I’m just—I’m glad.”

Sunghoon pulls back gently, quirking his head to one side as he looks at you. He uses the pad of his thumb to gently wipe away a stray tear. “Glad for what?” he asks, still cupping your cheek.

You lean into his touch, feeling dizzy with excitement and relief. “Glad that it’s you,” you say, your voice quiet. You lean in, placing a chaste kiss against his lips and, for once, he’s the one to shiver. “I’m glad you’re the one I love. Glad we’re here now, finally.”

Sunghoon pauses. His eyes dart between yours, your lips, and back. He rests his forehead on yours again, and you can already imagine getting used to this, and craving it when you can’t have it. “I waited so long, and I didn’t even know if...” There’s a catch in his voice, and he sounds like he’s about to cry. When he opens his eyes, there’s an honesty to them, a gaze you’ve only seen in Sunghoon’s eyes a handful of times. He smiles, his eyes going soft once more, like you are the most beautiful thing he has ever beheld. And to him, you are. “I always knew we were meant to be.”

***

The lady behind the desk did, in fact, look at you two like you were crazy. The night before you were acting like you were gonna tear each other to pieces. But now you’re walking out in each other’s arms? His around your shoulder, yours around his waist?

The sun is out, and there’s hardly any evidence of the downpour from last night. Maybe the earth needed to be just as dramatic as the two of you.

With the luggage in back, you two climb into the front seats. Sunghoon leans over the center console to press a kiss to your temple, just like he did when you woke up in each other’s arms and just like he did when he insisted on getting you whatever you wanted for breakfast.

“That’s not something new though?” you laugh, as he brings you small portions of everything the hotel had to offer. “You did this before.”

“Well, it’s obviously different now,” he replies. “I didn’t get to kiss you before.”

Now, Sunghoon taps at the Valentine heart on the dash–your wanderlist. What started this all. “We need a new one,” he says. “It took us a while, but we did everything on here. Should the new one be full of cringey couple things?”

“Only if you’d like to go back to being single.”

Sunghoon fakes shock as he shifts the car into gear. “You wouldn’t.”

This time, you lean over to give him a kiss, and you relish how quickly he blushes. “You’re right, I wouldn’t.” You sit back down, still turned towards him, hand atop his. “Maybe, we make the list up as we go. I mean, we’ve never been here before.”

“Didn’t stop third grade us,” he says. “Honestly, they seemed like they had everything together. We should think more like third grade us.”

“You mean complaining about how much things cost? Because I can think of so many things we could do together that would put major dents in our wallets.”

Sunghoon turns to you, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and you know you’ve got this right, even if it took a while to get here. He reaches over, poking your cheek, before turning out of the parking lot. “Then let’s go find it, together.”

[stopaskinf]

Drunk Dude in the Bathroom

(Hoshi x fem!black!reader)

Summary: The title really says it all. You try to go piss during a party and find Hoshi crying in the bathroom.

Genre: fluff, strangers to friends to lovers???, college AU

Word count: Around 0.8K

CW: none fr, mentions of drinking, crying and bodily functions. Hoshi being a cornball who thinks you’re hot.

You need to piss. The combination of drinks and getting distracted by music at this party was terrible for your bladder.

You ask your friend Youngji where the bathroom is. She knows way more about this place than you do.

“Its upstairs near the left. Can’t miss it!” She practically screams.

You give her a thumbs up as you start walking up the steps. Heels were a bad option. After an eternity, You finally reach the bathroom, thank god. If you had to hold it a second longer, you would have pissed on the floor. However, as soon as you open the door, you’re met with muffled blubbering from behind the shower curtain.

Throwing caution to the wind, you open the curtain to find a handsome and drunk blonde man holding a bag of ice like a well-loved childhood plushie.

“Umm…You good?”

He sniffles and loosens his grip on the ice bag. He looks up at you with puffy eyes, unshed tears still shining.

“Yes-no..I..just-did you know most tiger cubs don’t survive their first year of life?” He cries.

What the fuck. He’s clearly gone.

“...I did not know that.” You say baffled.

“Hey, why are you in-”

“You’re so pretty.” He says glossy-eyed.

Your face goes hot.

“Thank you, but listen-” You stutter out.

“Like super pretty, like you look like Naomi Campbell mixed with Megan thee Stallion.”

High praise.

“That's very sweet of you.” You give a shy smile.

He gives a toothy smile while he blushes.

“You’re welcome, pretty lady.” He cheeses.

Ok. You’re getting off track. You still need to piss. You’ve got to get this guy out of the bathroom.

“Hey, what’s your sign?” He asks as he shifts in the tub to get more comfortable.

He treats it like a children sized bed.

“I-I’m an aquarius.” You answer puzzled.

He lets go of his bag of ice and flaps his arms while making an excited squealing noise.

“Oh my god, oh my god, that explains everything!”

Does it?

“Yknow that explains why you’re so pretty! Aquariuses’ are always so like otherworldly. Real goddess energy. OOOOHH and we’re compatible cause I’m a Gemini! Air signs for the win!” He practically yells as he stumbles to get up from the tub and give you a high five? A hug? You’re not sure. Either way, he ends up wobbling and almost falling face first out of the tub. So, in an act of quick thinking, you catch him.

“Bro, are you good?” You ask worriedly. He’s really fucking gone.

He ends up hugging you, either in an attempt to keep himself steady or to bask in your warmth. You’re not sure.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just had a little too much to drink. By the way, you smell crazy good. What perfume do you use? And your skin is so soft! What products are you using? Also, are you seeing anyone? I don’t want to be a creep, but I hate to get you in trouble and you’re really cute.”

You chuckle as you hold him. It should feel uncomfortable holding a 6-foot stranger in a small bathroom, but he makes it feel natural.

“ I can tell that much just by looking at you. First, It’s a Valentino one, I forgot the name. Second, Shea butter. Third, no.”

You feel him hold you tighter and give out a small “yay” as he nuzzles into you.

“Oh my god, you know what would slap right now?” he says as he excitedly grabs your shoulders.

“What?” You ask.

“Well, first, some chicken nuggets. God, I’m starving. DK never has any actual food in the dorms and it sucks balls. He’s still a great guy though, I’ll have to introduce you two later. Oh, I totally forgot, we’re also roomies, so, you’ve probably already seen him. Lanky dude, sharp nose, great teeth?” He rambles.

“He sounds familiar.”

You feel his hands grab your face, you feel the cold metal of his rings contrast his warm hands and your hot face.

“Yeah that’s him. Oh my god, wait, I also want an Oreo McFlurry. When does Mcdonalds close?” He asks excitedly while slowly stroking your face.

“Aren’t they open 24 hours?”

He gasps and his eyes shine. He squeals and sways you both back and forth while holding your face in his hands.

“You’re so right! Sexy, strong, and smart! The big 3 S’s! We totally need to go! Please?” He pleads.

You give a soundless laugh and nod your head. This is definitely going to be a good night.

[gardenofnoah]

note: for my dearly beloved @bunnions now that it’s been read and we are Emotionally Processing. Bunny I LOVE you and I am so grateful that you wanted to read more of my silly little words. <3

wc: 8.2k tags: Bakugou x Bunny (bakubun supremacy), childhood friends to strangers to lovers, SOME angst (happy ending), minor injury (is just a little scrape on the playground, it’s okay), light smut, redemption/making amends

<3

-Today-

Bakugou Katuski was born to fight. Blessed with his mother’s quick tongue and quicker anger, it was never in his nature to shy away from what writhed, violent and hard, inside of him–to brandish it like a weapon, no matter the target. As an adult, Katuski finds he’s turned the weapon on himself and it’s different. This fight is one that does not seem to have an end, and while it’s not in his nature to quit–he’s sure as hell thought about it.

On the precipice of 30, just about everything is a fight if he’s honest with himself. But with that also comes some pride–he is a kicked dog reformed, and he hasn’t lost yet. That’s what he tells himself every morning, when the sunlight cuts through the window and pulls him from somewhere else–somewhere softer and a little kinder. When he opens his eyes despite the sting, it is another reminder of his own grit–of the ways he has fought to win another groggy morning.

There is a mechanical efficiency to this ritual that he’s gotten down to a science by now–the way he pulls himself from his sheets, the four minute shower that tells his brain it’s time to wake up, the coffee that he’s never liked (but now it’s either a bitter taste in his mouth or a splitting headache–the former feels like the easier route, and he feels he’s owed at least one of those), the 10 minutes of stretching before the 30 minute jog through familiar neighborhoods. Sometimes he’ll stall and make it an hour, doubling back to over the same sidewalks with a new perspective. Or at least he tries to–to him, it’s the same damn street any way you look at it.

He does all of these things with a commitment he’d expected to earn back by now–like there would be some karmic gift to taking care of himself that would magically fix him. And truthfully he has benefitted from consistency, but there is still an empty space somewhere inside him. To be meticulous in planning his days has not fulfilled him the way he wanted it to–he makes his breakfast and he pushes his body to its limit and he calls his mother as often as he can manage and he still thinks of you.

Katsuki has stability, and that is a new and welcome thing. Hard won and much deserved, he’s worked for it– and the people around him evidently agree, if Kirishima’s heavy arm around his shoulders and weepy compliments of how far he’s come anytime they’re out for drinks is an indication of that. Katsuki can see it, too–the fact that he only thinks about knocking Eijiro out a little bit when the big moron is yowling in his ear like that is progress in and of itself. That Katuski now has a whole horde of friends that regularly and willingly gather around with and for him is more than he ever imagined he’d have, and he’s grateful for it.

It was effort, of course–the years it took for him to make those long-overdue amends weigh heavily on him still, and it took even longer for that burden to feel anything but crushing. To let anyone near his underbelly was uncomfortable at best, but to be alone was worse, and Katsuki has never been a quitter. Except for when it comes to you.

Katsuki can’t admit to himself that he has given up, but he also can’t get himself to do anything about this silence that trails after him like a ghost. It’s infuriating because it’s just you, and he knows that that's exactly the reason he’s stuck in this constant game of will-he-or-won’t-he with himself, though he already knows the outcome. It’s just not one he can accept, so he tortures himself instead– he sees the concern on his friends’ faces over the way he tears himself apart and takes it as a personal failing, because it’s just you, and all he has to do is tell you he’s sorry.

Except he can’t do that. Because if he told you he was sorry, he’d have to tell you why–and then he’d have to tell you everything. Katsuki has never been a liar and knows that it might be the truth of it all that still holds him together (if there was ever a lamer excuse for holding out for something as silly as hope like this, he’s not aware of it). But his fingers bled with all of that stitching himself back together. It feels counterintuitive at best to unravel himself all over again for you.

You’d been the needle, and the thread. Another truth he could never bear to tell you.

-Six-

Katsuki doesn’t know what to do when he finds you curled in on yourself inside the fluorescent orange tunnel. The echoes of palms and knees moving through the plastic above his head reverberate through his body, but he can’t focus on any of it–his eyes are glued instead to the injury you’re crouched over–a scraped elbow, red and angry.

“Bunny?”

You sniff, and it raises goosebumps on his arms. “Pushed m–me.”

Your voice is tinny and distorted inside the tunnel. He’s suddenly filled with more anger than his six year old brain can wrap itself around. He puffs up his cheeks and turns from you, stomping his way out of the plastic that he’s not even tall enough to touch the top of.

He finds them easily enough–two of them, older than him by at least three years, targeting some other poor little kid. They’re circled around him like sharks. Katsuki only sees the shorter one step forward–arms extended, grinning as if his cruelty is a game–and then he blinks, and everything is different.

He blinks, and their target is gone–the two older ones are at his feet, the taller one barely holding back tears as he crouches over a bloody knee.

“Katsuki Bakugou–what the hell are you doing?”

He’s already fighting his mother before she has a full grip on his elbow, dragging him off the playground. He’s not listening–he just wants to go see if you’re okay.

“Oi–stop, you can’t just throw people down like that–”

“They pushed her!”

It’s nearly a screech and the first words he’s said since he parted from you. Startled, his mother lets him go–he doesn’t spare her a second glance, off like a shot toward your tunnel. He feels the heat of the sun-baked plastic, too hot on his palms, but it barely registers as he crawls in next to you.

“S’okay,” he says quietly, trying to coax you out of the pretzel you've contorted yourself into. He reaches the pocket of his superhero shorts and fishes out a singular bandaid, crinkled up and a little dirty and too small for the wound on your arm. He waits for you to peer up at him before he unwraps it, and presses it to your scrape. You wince.

“I’ll fix it,” he says, tongue poking out of the gap between his teeth as he smooths the bandage over your skin, “s’okay.”

-Today-

Katsuki isn’t necessarily a glutton for punishment–it just feels like the most effective form of conditioning.

His lungs burn–breath hitching with every stride he takes down the sidewalk. He pushes himself to go a little longer, to run a little faster, and the exhilaration that comes with the way his body listens to him thrills him enough to keep him moving.

Later his joints will be sore–when he stays at the gym far too long and strains himself to fatigue, his body will revolt in the ways that are familiar to him. A natural consequence to crossing a boundary. But for now it’ll hold out–it’ll hold up to the beating he forces it to take, all for his own improvement. For something else, too.

Physical strength is something he understands. He gets back what he puts into it–he lifts a heavy thing to lift something heavier. He feels the feverish drum of his heart as he pushes himself through another mile and knows that he will be stronger for it. There is the promise of longevity there–a clear reason to continue to work hard.

Emotional stuff is not in Katuski’s wheelhouse. He runs through every action he’s ever taken ad nauseam and nothing changes–he still feels as stagnant and frustrated as he ever did, and he’s no closer to reaching out to you than he was years ago. He can tell himself to just do it but there is no amount of repetition or discipline that will train his brain into allowing himself to pick up the phone and dial the number he still knows by heart. He doesn’t know what else to do, and he hates that, so he defaults to what he knows–to push his body further, with the hope that his brain may one day follow suit.

On autopilot, he rounds the corner across from the bodega with the Spanish rice that Sero won’t stop talking about, and nearly takes an elderly woman off her feet. He skids to a stop, out of breath as he asks nearly a hundred times if she’s alright.

“Oh, I’m fine,” she says with a chuckle, swatting him playfully with a gloved hand, “You just gave an old girl a fright, is all.”

“Y’sure?” he says, pointedly eyeing the cane that shakes under her fingers.

She tuts, rolling her eyes like he’s being ridiculous. “Yes, yes. Don’t let me keep you!”

Katuski nods, helping her back inside the shop she’d been walking toward. He knows her, he realizes. Not in any significant way, but he's certain he's blown past her cotton white mass of hair on his jogs down the sidewalk. “Sorry about that, granny.”

She waves him off and this time he lets her, thinking a little too hard about how easy it might be to take him off his feet when he reaches that age. He picks up the jog at an albeit slower pace. He gets a good five strides ahead before he’s stopped again in his tracks.

This time, by you.

He feels like he’s seeing a ghost, and probably looks like it too, stopped in the middle of the sidewalk like this. There’s no force on earth that could get him to move–not away from you, and certainly not toward you.

So he’s stuck where he is, watching you cross the street–the damn sun personified, smiling to every stranger that breezes past you–with a heavy moving box in your arms. Hair tied back at the nape of your neck, there’s nothing obstructing his view from the way each grin stretches into your cheeks and suddenly he feels a little sick. You pass in front of him, carrying too much and unaware of his lingering, 20 feet to your right. Then you’re inside and out of his view.

Someone brushes past him, startling the breath back into his lungs. It’s a gasping thing, and he can only focus on the expansion of his lungs in his chest to get him back on this plane of existence. He feels outside of himself–like seeing you has drop kicked him out of his body. He has no control of his feet that carry him toward the building you slipped into, despite all the screaming his mind subjects him to. There’s a war inside him and yet, he walks the half step to the door and pushes it open.

“Welcome in–oh.”

And then you’re looking at him with eyes that haven’t changed and he feels very sick–so much so that he can’t say anything. He just stands there, sweating and out of breath and damn terrified of the other half of his heart, staring back at him for the first time in years.

“Katsuki?”

And god, does he wish he’d turned around when he had the chance, because how unfair it is to have to hear you say his name like that. To see you look at him with only mild confusion and none of the disdain that he would’ve expected. Elbows propped on the counter in front of you, you show none of the tension he so palpably feels in every muscle of his body.

He swallows around the lump in his throat, and it’s painful. It’s all he can do to move his mouth around the words.

“Hey, Bunny.”

You give him the same splitting grin that you always did and it nearly knocks him on his ass. “What are you doing here?”

That’s a great question–he’s not looked around until now, and he has no idea where he is. There are framed art prints all over the dark walls, and dried flowers take up the spaces between them. There are some books, some knick knack looking things–his brain can’t process any of it.

“Uh–” trying to get his bearings, trying to come up with an answer that’s not I followed you in here after watching you on the street–

“You want a tour?” you ask him with a knowing smile, and he can only nod. You round the counter and then you’re next to him, and he feels your proximity like you hold a match to his skin. He has to fight to focus on your words–he wishes he would’ve clicked on any one of those “train your brain with this one trick” ads as he hears every third word and fights to connect the dots. Gallery, book vendors, display window. Something about a delivery schedule.

“These are all by a local artist,” you say, gesturing to a fourth of the wall in front of you, “I try to cycle them out as much as I can.”

He clings on to the last bit. “This is your place?”

Your eyes shift back to him, and you smile. It’s one of pride. “It is.”

He puts a pin in that–wholly interested in whatever could’ve led you here, but the latter part of that is a blinking neon sign in his brain.

“That mean you live around here?” He hates himself for sounding so hopeful–because what right does he have to that?

“Yeah, actually, I live down on our old street.” You say it like it doesn’t tilt his whole world on its axis. Like he can picture anything but running down a snow covered, lamp lit side street with your gloved hand in his. “You know that building next to the Thai place?”

He nods, and it’s all he can do. Of course he does. He remembers the old woman that lived in the first floor apartment–she’d yell down the street at the two of you to take some of the cookies she’d made to your mothers. He wonders if you keep plants in that front window, too.

You hum, choosing to move on–turning on your heel and pointing out the built-in shelves that curve over the arch of the front door.

He has the sudden and overwhelming urge to get the hell out of here.

“I, uh–” he says, clearing his throat a little too loud, “got something to do.”

“Oh,” you say, your smile faltering only a little. He wants to punch himself square in the face. “Of course. It was nice to see you, Katsuki.”

The nod is terse and automatic–all his brain power dedicated to timing his steps so that he doesn’t sprint out of your shop.

He walks–straight past the gym, where he meant to go–and doesn’t stop until his feet carry him through the threshold of his apartment. He ends up flat on his back in his tiny living room, staring at the ceiling and thinking of the way your canine tooth still pokes at your bottom lip the way it did when you were smaller and learning to ride a bike. He drags a hand down his face–some vain attempt of scrubbing the memory from his brain.

If nothing else, he knows what parts of the city to avoid now.

-Thirteen-

Katsuki feels weird. It’s not a new feeling–but it’s wholly unwelcome and an inconvenience at best. His body feels weird, too–he finds hair in places it wasn’t before and his voice does that god awful thing that embarrasses the hell out of him and he’s also been…having dreams.

You tend to be the star of them–which isn’t atypical, but usually in his dreams, he’s building a snow fort with you or reliving that time you accidentally swallowed a bug when you were 5. But now, his dreams make him acutely and uncomfortably aware of the changes in your body–the way your hips curve where they hadn’t before, the new swell of your chest, the way you smell a little different than you did before, how you’re often a full body, deep shade of red around him now–

He wakes up sticky and embarrassed more often than not.

It makes him want to avoid you–really, he'd do anything to stop the dreams and the feeling under his skin when you’re too close to him (or not close enough)–but he can’t. Not fully, anyway. He’s drawn to you like a magnet. He feels frustrated, and the only way he knows how to cope with that frustration right now is to get angry about it.

He takes out his anger on the younger and weaker–by now he’s forgotten the way those boys looked when they pushed you down at the park. The meaner he gets, the more revered he is by his peers, and that feels good. He doesn’t remember the way your tears beaded fat and fell down your cheeks in the way that the targets of his bullying shed them now. He slams a locker that someone has just opened and earns hoots and hollers from the boys around him, and to Katsuki, any praise is good praise.

He starts picking fights with his mother and antagonizing his teachers. He spends most afternoons in the principal’s office and he gets tired of the disapproval–of the disappointment that so palpably radiates from everyone around him. He does things he wouldn’t have considered before–skipping class and staying out past curfew (even if it’s just to loiter on the sidewalk of the next block over). He feeds off the energy of the group around him–someone makes a poor decision, and the rest follow. It feels good, to not feel any sense of inhibition. Everything else is fucked up and weird, but this is what he can control.

His one hang up is you.

Other students begin to avoid him in the halls-especially when he is flanked by one or two others. It feeds into his own sense of superiority–makes him puff out his chest and carry his head high on his shoulders. So high that he walks right past you.

“Hey!”

Your shout startles him out of his bravado. He turns and instantly deflates–one of his friends leers above you, holding your bookbag above your head, out of your reach.

He’s immediately filled with an anger that feels so familiar but he can’t place it. His vision dulls around the peripheral–focused in on you and the furrow of your eyebrows. Feeling, for the first time in a long while, some sense of injustice for what is happening around him.

Before he knows it, his fist connects with the soft remnant of baby fat that still exists under his friend’s ribcage. He drops, and so does your bookbag–Katsuki reaches over his writhing body to grab it and hand it back to you. He looks at you then–and is startled by what he sees on your face.

It’s a mix of shock and fear, and something else. Something like sadness, or what he'd later come to know as grief.

“Thanks, Katsuki.”

You sound quieter than he’s used to, and you don’t look at him when you take your bag from him. You sling it over your shoulder and turn on your heel, not bothering to say goodbye to him. He watches you go.

“Dude,” a cough from below him, “what the fuck–”

Katsuki looks down at the huddle of limbs below him with all of the disdain that he can muster. “Leave her alone,” he says. He walks away too, leaving his friend behind—not for the last time.

-Today-

Despite all of Katsuki’s attempts to avoid you, he sees you everywhere.

Except he can’t even really call them attempts. He supposes it’d be the opposite, because now he’s picked a new jogging route–which happens to be down the street you both grew up on. The one you’ve now made a home on.

He’s also managed to time it at exactly the time you head out to go to work. He nearly comes out of his skin the first time you call out to him. Like he wasn't expecting you to.

“Good morning,” you beam at him, having caught him right as he passed you on the sidewalk. He feels like you’ve trapped him there–which is odd, because he could just turn and continue his jog.

He doesn’t care to think too hard about why can’t physically get himself to do that.

“You want to come up?” you ask him, completely unaware of the agony inside him right now, “I just put on coffee–”

“No.” It’s gruff and too quick, and he sees you startle a bit. “I–uh. Have some shit to do this morning.”

You relax–and appear to be fighting off something like a grin, something a little too knowing for his comfort.

“Next time, then,” you tell him, pulling the door to your building shut behind you. “Have a good day, Katsuki.”

.

.

Next time comes very soon.

He did it to himself, really–there could only be so many times he meets you at your stoop at the exact moment you open the door before it stops being excused as a coincidence.

It's embarrassing at the very least and borderline obsessive behavior at its worst, but you don't bring it up–he's grateful for that, but also a little skeptical. You just invite him in again, and this time, he follows you through the door.

He's not sure what he was expecting. Really, it was silly to think that you'd have decorated your space according to your taste when you were seventeen, but he's surprised to find little bits of the person he knew you to be back then, scattered around your apartment. There's no mistaking the way your style has grown with you, though. It shouldn't be shocking to him that your home looks like a fully fleshed out, adult space, but it does. Weird.

"Offer's still there for coffee, if you want any."

You're watching him survey the place, hip leaned up against the entryway to the kitchen. The morning sun streams in through a window behind you, backlighting you in a warm glow.

Right. Why would it not?

Katsuki pulls himself together to nod at you, all the rigidity he'd tried to rid himself of still fully there. You smile and turn on your heel like you hadn't noticed.

Alone for the moment, he keeps looking. It feels a little invasive, but he can't stop. He needs to know about you, about the ways that you changed without him. He finds himself searching for the songs you like, the movies you watch, the hobbies you have. Who were you this whole time?

He walks slowly past a small, wooden shelf holding novels he's never heard of. The top cover is nondescript and gives him no hints as to what it could be about, but the spine is so worn that he knows you've read it more than once. He logs the title for...later. He's not actually sure why he's so fixated on it, but it freaks him out. He moves on.

There are frames all over the walls–art and dried flowers and a napkin with a note on it and in the middle of it all, a picture from a time he remembers. You and your kid sister in your matching pink overalls that used to embarrass you, but mostly because people mistook you for the younger sibling in them the most. Your face is painted like a tiger, and your front tooth is missing. He remembers this exact day, actually, because he's next to you in this picture.

"She never wants to match with me anymore."

He nearly jumps out of his skin. You pay him no mind, smiling softly at the picture. He tries to recover. "How is she–I, uh–"

"Doing? The same. Quiet still. My favorite person in the world."

He feels it in his chest and knows that it's true. He finds himself grateful that you've been loved this whole time. He also finds himself a little too aware of his own loneliness in a way that makes him want to leave. But you stand in his way now, coffee held out to him in your hands. He takes it and feels intensely grateful your fingers don't brush.

"You run every morning?"

The coffee burns his tongue and he fights the flinch, covering it with an affirming grunt.

"That's admirable. I think I'd have a hard time with a routine like that."

You don't mean anything by it. You couldn't mean anything by it, and yet he is reminded of the reason he has this routine. He is reminded of the person he was without this routine. And he needs to go right now.

He makes another excuse of having something he needs to do, and he doesn't look at your face when he leaves.

-Today-

You find yourself back in the old neighborhood bar on a Friday night, with none other than Kirishima Eijiro.

Eijiro has always been kind. When you ran into him on the sidewalk (literally, the wall of a man that he is), it was an easy yes when he'd asked you to catch up. You're not at all surprised to hear about his marriage, nor his baby on the way. It's fitting, you think. He'll be a great father, a great husband.

He asks about you, and you tell him about the gift shop. You tell him about moving away and it not feeling right–about the way it felt to be away from your sister. You tell him about your writing, and about the way your life is quiet and beautiful and your own.

There's just one thing that's bothering you.

“Tell me something,” you whisper lowly to the redhead, who leans in to listen. “What on earth is wrong with Katsuki?”

There’s a flash of something across his face, and then he’s back to feigning nonchalance. “Ah, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

You level him with a look. “Eijiro.”

He sighs, sitting back in his seat. “Alright, alright. I do know what you’re talking about, but it’s not my business to tell.”

You cross your arms across your chest, eyebrow raised. He only laughs.

“Jeez, you’re scary. All I can say is he feels guilty about how he left things between you.”

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack, lady. He’s been holding onto it for a while.”

“Why?”

He only shrugs, taking another sip from the drink in front of him. You think it might be yours, but you don’t have it in you to tell him–whatever gets you an answer. “He’s worked really hard. I’m proud of him. He just,” he gestures into the empty space with the glass like it holds the words he’s looking for, “didn’t know how to reach out, I think.”

“That’s stupid.”

The redhead laughs, warm and open like he always was. It feels nostalgic, in a way. You’d never had much opportunity to spend time with Eijiro, and you feel a little sad about that. He’s good. You were glad that, in the time you’d been absent from his life, Katsuki had been able to find a friend like him.

“As tough as he seems, I think it tears him up to know that someone he cares about is upset with him.”

You gape at him. “He thinks I’m mad at him?”

Eijiro grins at you over the rim of the glass. With the most emphasized discretion and a wink, he slides his phone to you, screen-side up. Katsuki's contact. “Yep. He’s a baby.”

-Seventeen-

At seventeen, Katsuki understands what it means to regret something for the first time. You sit in front of him in tears, and he feels that regret so deeply that he thinks he might be sick.

“You’re so mean, Katsuki.”

Your voice is so uncharacteristically quiet he almost has to strain to hear it. You don’t look at him–and he panics, because he’s never known you to be near him and not looking at him.

“You’re a crybaby,” he says, and he means it lightly–he expects you to laugh, and to make a jab at him back–but the crease between your eyebrows gets deeper and your chin wobbles and suddenly the walls are closing in around him.

“Bunny, I–”

“I have to go.” And then you’re gone.

Your footsteps ricochet off the walls and inside his head until his teeth ache with it. He doesn’t understand what the hell just happened–or why he can’t ever seem to stop his mouth from running out in front of him, just out of his reach.

There’s nothing else to do but go home. For the first time since he’d learned to drive, his passenger seat sits empty.

.

.

.

“Morning!”

You sound chipper when you sit down next to him, which confuses the hell out of him until he looks up at you and sees the way your smile is brief, and strained at best.

The shame crawls up his throat and clamps down on any attempt at reciprocation. It’s all he can do to force out a grunt of acknowledgement. You don’t say anything else.

Class ends, and he doesn’t wait for you. He is up and out of the room before you even stand from your seat.

.

.

.

There is something very cowardly that lives in Katsuki. He hadn’t known about it until now–and now he feels settled into it. Like it’s known him all his life.

He’s ignoring you. That’s what it is, no matter how many other ways his mind tries to spin it. It’s been 3 months since he made you cry and now it feels too late–like any attempt at speaking to you would just be inappropriate–so he doesn’t. He knows he’s a coward and he can see that it hurts you. Your texts start dwindling–where you used to chat with him throughout the day (often to his chagrin), your name comes across his phone once every few weeks, and then not at all. He reads every message, and he replies to none.

But then he gets busy–preparation for graduation and moving out and on and making something of himself–and a year passes. You still say hello to him when you see him. You’re still kind to him, which that in itself he cannot understand. There’s an obvious rift, though. You don’t seek him out anymore. And he can’t blame you.

He knows you’re alright, though, if your social media posts are anything to go by. You’ve made other friends, and every picture of the corners of your mouth drawn back in that familiar grin feels like a wound. He feels guilty about that, too–about the ways in which he grieves a spot in your life that he is no longer entitled to.

-Today-

He doesn’t touch a single step on the way up to your place–he’s not even sure he’s opened the door so much as kicked the fucking thing down just to get to you. You in danger–you hurt and needing him and–

Standing there. Whole and unharmed, fingers stained red only with the strawberry you have halfway to your mouth. Hip propped against the counter, you look relaxed–certainly not in any peril–

His exhale is sharp–forced, as the relief bleeds into irritation. “What the fuck, Bunny–”

“No, you, what the fuck,” you say, hands on your hips. His eyes have no choice but to follow them, and he realizes you have his sweatpants on. “What is wrong with you?”

They’d be floods on him now, but they fit you in a way that would make him believe they were yours if he didn’t know any better. Worn in, like you’d been wearing them this whole time. A relic from some sport he played way back when–where you wearing them felt inconsequential then, it feels monumental now, after how he treated you. He can’t wrap his mind around the way there could still be any possibility of a space carved out for himself in your life.

“Why did y’act like you were fuckin’ dying’?”

“Would you have come otherwise?”

That gives him pause–because he’s not sure what answer you’re looking for. “I–”

“You,” you cut him off with a step closer to him–he takes one back, toward the still open door. “Have been avoiding me. What did I do?”

“It’s not–you didn’t do anything–”

“So what is it?”

It’s quiet, then–and somehow the weight of his absence is more crushing than it’s ever been. He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly–trying to slow the locomotive beat of his heart.

“M’sorry,” he mutters, looking down at a spot on the floor. He hates himself for not being able to look at you. He hates that after all of these years, this is the extent of his bravery.

“What are you sorry for?”

“Was shitty to you,” he drags a hand down his face and forces himself to look at you. Forces himself to keep your eyes for at least three seconds before the panic rears up and he has to look away again. “When we were kids.”

But now he’s frustrated–because that can’t be all he has to offer you. Years, and sorry I was an asshole is all he has to say? At this point in his life, after all of the work he has put in, it feels unacceptable to him.

He just can’t think of another thing to say.

But you’re patient. You always have been. You tilt your head and wait.

“I was…mean to you,” he hears your words to him so clearly he has to remind himself that you hadn’t just said them to him, standing here in front of him. “And then I left.”

“You did,” you murmur gently, but there’s no detectable bitterness in your tone. You look at him with all of the fondness you always did.

“Wasn’t right,” he gruffs, throat feeling tight, “‘n I should’ve apologized and then it was too late. And now…”

You hum, an almost sympathetic thing. You take a step closer to him, and he has to fight to stay where he is. A large part of him wants to bolt out the door–another smaller and seemingly insane part wants to be closer to you.

“I missed you, you know.”

His eyes snap to yours then–searching for the punchline. Waiting for you to tell him that you were only fucking with him. It doesn’t come. You seem to hear the question he can’t get himself to ask.

“I was never upset with you, Kat. I only ever missed you.”

“But I–” he can’t think of one good reason to try to argue with you right now, and yet he can’t stop his mouth from moving. “You cried–”

And that makes you laugh. “Katsuki, I was sixteen. Someone could have breathed the wrong way and I’d cry.”

He can’t get his brain to catch up. You take another step toward him–he feels your proximity buzz on his skin.

“I knew you,” you murmur, and it feels like a secret he does not deserve to hear, “and you’re different now. But I’d like to think I know you still.”

He feels your fingers wrap around the wrist that’s glued to his side. He eyes you, not completely confident that he’s not hallucinating right now. He lets the tension bleed from that particular spot of his body–lets you thread your fingers through his. It feels like you’ve set him on fire and he’s acutely aware in this moment that he will never let you go. Not ever again.

“I’m still here,” you tell him, speaking directly to his heart now. You take one more step and wrap your arms around his middle, ear to his heart. If he was anywhere close to his right mind, he’d be embarrassed by how it races in his chest. “I still need you like I did then.”

You’ve rendered him speechless and immobile. It’s another several, long seconds before you break the silence.

“Okay Kat this is going to be really embarrassing if you don’t hug me back–”

“Sorry,” he murmurs, thawed. He wraps both arms around your shoulders, a cage around your head that holds you to him. “Sorry.”

You laugh a little, muffled by his sweatshirt, and he feels warm. It’s quiet then, but not in a way that’s oppressive–not in a way that pins him to the floor or to his grief.

“Stay here tonight,” you tell him–you don’t ask.

He wants to say no–he has no change of clothes and he has his routine that keeps him afloat and he’s not sure what’ll happen if he strays from that–but to be with you like this feels good. It would be stupid to stave that off for even one more night.

.

.

.

Now that he's comfortable enough to really look, there are pieces of you around your apartment that he never thought he’d see again.

In the throw pillows you’ve picked, the way you arrange things (and not just the pictures and frames but other things that he didn't see before, ornate and odd and out of place if anywhere but here. He thinks they're weird and just like you to have) on your walls. He’s no idea when he got so damn sentimental, but he can’t help it (and would rather die than ask you about any of it, so he observes quietly when you’re not looking).

You ask him if he's hungry, and for the first time in a while, he's not nauseous around you and finds that he could eat. No sooner than you start cooking does he bat you away and take over completely. You put up what he knows is a weak attempt at a fight before you take a seat next to him on the counter to watch. It’s all he can do to pay attention to the downswing of his knife on the cutting board, rather than the way his sweatpants hug your hips from this angle.

God, is he fucking thirteen again?

He feels it–knows he’s red in the face the entire time you’re next to him. You seem oblivious–chatting with him about the shop and the book you’re reading and your sister, and everything else he’s missed in the last however long. It sobers him a bit–because there is so much that he has missed.

“Hey,” you swing your leg out to poke him in the gut with your toes. “I’m right here.”

He catches you by the foot and holds you there–fights to keep himself from brushing over the instep of it with his thumb. “Keep y'r gross feet to yourself.”

You hum. “You gonna let go of my gross foot then?”

He releases you immediately, red and grumbling about you being a damn brat when you chuckle. He busies himself with finishing dinner, pointedly choosing not to look at you to protect his own sanity.

He supposes it makes sense–he’d cut off his feelings for you years ago like he’d bent a hose in half. To be around you again has loosened his grip on the thing–and here they are again, flooding his system with far more pressure than before. It’s a heavy thing, the weight of his love and the burden of what he’d done. It doesn’t matter if you aren’t upset with him–he feels the need to atone all the same.

Over dinner, he feels bold enough to let you in, at least a little bit. He keeps his eyes on his plate as he details chronologically–graduating, the loneliness, the need to be connected and to make amends. In not so many words, he tells you about his regret. He wants to tell you of his deepest one–walking away from you–but he stops just short of it.

You’re thoughtful beside him, chewing on each piece of the puzzle as he shares it. After a moment, he starts to sweat.

“Never knew you could be so quiet.”

You huff, mouth pulling up at the corners. “And I never knew you could talk so much.”

Before he can get embarrassed, you reach for him again–fingers wrapping around his forearm. “You’re different now.”

It’s the second time you’ve said it and the wave of insecurity threatens to displace his dinner. The word comes out before he can stop it. “Bad?”

You shake your head, smile growing wider. “No. Not bad.”

He supposes he can live with that. You keep your grip on him, literal and otherwise.

“Don’t remember you bein’ so touchy.” It’s half-hearted at best–he curses himself for looking a gift horse in the mouth, but the confusion somehow beats out the unfettered need to have your attention on him.

He turns his arm over, palm up, and you smooth your thumb over the tendon in his wrist. You smile again, but it’s subdued this time. It doesn’t quite meet your eyes in the way he knows you meant it to. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

“M’ sorry, Bunny.”

You shake your head, eyes trained on each freckle on his arm as you smooth over it with your thumb. “You were a child. There’s nothing you need to be sorry for.”

He huffs, grabbing a hold of your hand. “Yeah, well, ’m a grown ass man now and I’m still sorry.”

You snort, weaving your fingers together again. Your smile comes easier.

“I love you,” you murmur, eyes never leaving where you are linked with him.

The silence turns deafening. Katsuki is certain he’s just had a fucking stroke.

“I–you–”

“Oh my god,” you breathe, looking mortified as you snatch your hand away from him–

He snatches it back just as quickly. “Fuckin’–hold on–”

You look like you’re ready to chew his arm off to get out of his grasp–and it makes him laugh. Really laugh, deep in his chest–you look at him like he’s lost his mind.

“I’ve been–fuckin’,” he says, still giggly, still giddy if he could ever be that, “dreamin’ of hearing you say that for nearly two damn decades and that’s how you do it?”

He’s still laughing as he watches the gears turn in your head–you relax a little in your seat and he releases you, only when he’s sure you won’t dart off. You suck in a breath, long and controlled.

“Oh,” you exhale, and he watches it click for you. “You–oh.”

He feels bolder than he ever has–every nerve ending in his body on fire and needing you. He's up and next to you before he knows it, and you look up at him with eyes that look right through him. For the first time, he hopes you see it all. He wants you to see everything.

Whatever you see has you up out of your seat, your hands reaching for him and settling on his chest like you'd known the feeling of him beneath your palms all of your life. You tilt your chin, and he follows you down.

.

.

.

Katsuki's got the whole world in his hands; he chooses to handle it–you–with fragility that he wasn’t sure he was capable of until now. He rushes nothing–the soft give of your hips under his hands is nearly dizzying and he can’t stop himself from pulling you closer, if you ever could be. You don’t seem to mind–reaching and grabbing and needing him like you are. To know that the unbridled want he feels is mutual burns him from the inside out–but it’s more than that, and he can feel it down to his bones–he loves you. So deeply and for so long that he hardly knows what to do with himself now that he has you in his lap. He only knows, as innately as breathing or the blood flowing through his veins, to pull you closer–fingertips touching at your spine and pulling you closer still, expanding with your ribcage at every breath that grows deeper against his lips.

“Katsuki,” and you whisper it but you may as well have shouted for the way it lights up every synapse in his brain, “want more of you–”

“Let me feel ya a little longer,” he presses a kiss to your jaw and he feels like he’s pleading. He’s not too proud to do it. “Just a little longer, yeah?”

You blink, processing what he’s asked, and a small, sweet smile splits your face as you lean your forehead to his temple, nodding softly. And god, does it feel like a prize, like a gift he’s surely never deserved but you are so good and you care little for how deserving he might be. He’s never known anything like you–never knew he could have something like this. Your body bows toward his like gravity or the universe or a god called you to do it, and there’s no force on earth or otherwise that could keep him from meeting you halfway.

His fingers follow the spaces between your ribs and trail up to the hollow of your throat–he feels the rapid flutter of your heart through the thin skin and the knowledge that you are as affected as he is proves to be too much for his own heart–

“Katsuki–”

You’re pleading now, and when he meets your hooded gaze he understands. His hands fall to your hips again, and press down gently–he can look nowhere but your face that goes slack as you shudder through the pleasure that he feels lick up his spine. He’s as intentional and methodical as he’s ever been, and he knows that if he’d ever been born for anything, it has to be this–to use his body for this–for you–

“Oh,” your arms loop around his neck and pull him back to you, and he chases the soft press of your lips to his–the feeling of your sweet sounds that fill his mouth, “it’s so good. You feel so good.”

Your praise gnaws at the edges of his skull and makes everything fuzzy. He’s mindless as he holds you there–rutting against you slowly, just as animal as anything but only with the goal of keeping you in his arms, kissing him like you are. Every plush glide of your mouth against his pulls him deeper into this thing–

He nearly comes out of his skin when your hand covers where he is hard and aching and squeezes. “I want to feel you,” you say, and he comes back to himself, if only a little bit, to pull your hand into his and bring it to his lips.

“Later”, he murmurs against your wrist, letting his words smear across your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. He presses a kiss to the inside of your elbow and raises it over his head to join the other. “Need you t’feel good.”

It’s the most honest thing he’s ever said and the weight of it presses you back into your sheets, open and looking up at him like an angel. He knows to treat you gentler still–he resists the urge to bite down–to consume, to bring you into him–and replaces it with the press of his mouth to your jawline, and the wet drag of his tongue across the skin of your stomach.

“So beautiful,” he breathes against your skin, warm and soft between your hip bones, “Y’re so fucking beautiful–”

He knows he’s never tasted a thing like you when you flood his tongue, and that he will never again–knows that he’ll never hear anything like the cry you let out as you let him have this part of you. The way you say his name, the way you don't seem to know whether to pull him in or push him away–now that he has you, he knows he can never go without.

He loves you. He loves you.

You slip over that edge with the ease of water from a glass and he nearly follows you. He presses his temple into the soft give of your thigh and feels delighted at the feeling of the flutter of your heartbeat. He'd stay there forever if he could, but your grip on his hair pulls him back up to you, and he can't stop the laugh that leaves him.

You kiss him and the arousal knocks around his stomach so hard it makes him dizzy. He pulls away just to ground himself–he leans his temple to yours and relishes in the feeling of your fingertips up his arms, over his shoulders, into his hair.

"Katsuki," you whisper, pulling him closer. He knows it could never be closer enough.

"'m here, Bunny," he kisses every inch of skin he can reach, "I'm here."

[kurosstuff]

Hello, how are you doing? :)

Since requesrts are open and your writing is marvelous, I wanted to request an Azula x gn reader oneshot/fic where reader is a childhood friend who grew distant to Azula over time, but is now chosen to be her fiancé in an arranged marriage.

You don't have to write it, but I still hope you likr the idea!

Have a great day ^^

Hi! I'm doing better at least! Thank you so much♡ It means so much to me to hear you like my writing!

I'd like to apologize for not writing this sooner- was taking a break with long fics- and idk how accurate azula is still- haven't watched fhe show in so long-! Also hope I got Ozai ok? Never wrote anything with him in it before I don't think

-

I got carried away♡.. this came out as more of a reconnection type thing? Eh- maybe that's good?

Summary: read ask♡

Warnings(?): azula being azula, reader freaks out/panics alot, ozai, soft(?) Azula(she's like kinda nice sometimes); slight angst. Misunderstanding(but not really), friends to strangers to lovers(?), both reader AND azula are oblivious on how they really feel,

Azula x G/N reader: arranged

Being azulas friend had its ups and downs

Mostly downs

"Oh, come on, Y/N. Don't such a kid, " Azula grumbled, trying to get you to stay still. She read a trick where if someone still stays, a firebender can hit the target above the person's head without any injury. In a book for children for whatever reason. "I'd never hurt you," which is partly true - Azula wouldn't hurt you on purpose, or she would - you weren't actually sure

But like time- friendships come and go.

As you grew older, you saw how awful of a person Azula was turning out to be. How cruel of a person she truly was - how little care she had for another being - even her own brother. Seeing how she was amused and not concerned for her brother during the Agni Kai- you decided enough was enough.

This 'friendship' was becoming too dangerous too frightening. You were aware you can't just up and end the friendship you decided to distance yourself from her. Feeling confident, she wouldn't notice the change

-

You weren't sure if she ever noticed- if by chance she did. She never said or gave the indication she knew. After a couple of months, you stopped coming around to hang out.

You felt bad, but you believed this was for the best.

It's been almost a three full year when you received the letter. One you'd overlook if it weren't for the very specific golden charm closing the envelope showing it was from the royal family. Usually, being given this letter is either an honor or.. something much worse. Swallowing down your nerves, you sat down staring at the envelope for almost an eternity. Opening it carefully, you begain to read.

Everything seemed normal in the letter besides the fact you are to be summoned to the Fire Lord himself for something. Totally normal. Not like your gonna die or anything. Be shipped off to war maybe? You'd 100% are not worried.

Nope.

-

Rushing to get ready, you practically jumped in the air in Fright when you heard the knocking on the door. Your nerves were shot, and this whole thing was just making it worse.

You almost hoped to not see her there. But that'd be impossible since she lived there. Opening the door two guards stood infront of you looking at you sternly.

"Are you Y/N?" Nodding your head yes- you didn't trust your voice at the moment. They turned and gestured to follow "come. We will escort you to the Palace"

-

You don't remember anything on the way there - it was all a blur - you blame it on your nerves, but it did help distract from the imitating Palace. Until you got there. The two guards stepped out and opened the door for you - following them the huge door to the Palace opened slowly with a creek. You took a deep breath and stepped in- turning you watched as the doors closed, sealing your fate. Locking you in - A sound of someone clearing their throat caught your attention

"This way," following closely, you dared not speak, not trusting your voice - and for the fact your throat was so dry a word couldn't get out when if you wished it.

Being led by two fully armed guards was almost as unnerving as the lack of decorations in the halls leading to the Fire Lords office. It was devoid of anything to show the human side of him - if there was any. The only lights shown were from flames - obviously, one's from the Fire Lord himself probably made. The only sounds you could hear was the sound of your heart beating harshly in your ears and the metal taps of the swords on the guards.

Stopping in front of huge double doors, they turned to you unblinking. "He's inside." Was all they said before they opened the doors for you. Once you stepped in they shut loudly the candles blowing out closest to you leaving you alone in the dark- minus the glow of flamed down the hall. Clenching your hands you took a deep breath and tried to relax-

The closer you got to the flames- the more the urge to run as far as you could got worse- alarm bells ringing in your head at the thought of this all going wrong. Something practically 100% possible. Even on his good days, he would be cruel. Stopping in front of the flame wall blocking you from the full view of the man himself - Fire Lord Ozai. His face covered in the shadows from how he sat, but the flames didn't hide how terrifyingly huge he looked - bowing in respect you were about to great him- before he put his hand up to stop you

"Do you know why I asked you here?"

It took you a moment to gain the courage to respond - surprisingly, he allowed you the moment - as if he thought you actually knew the reason. "No, Fire Lord Ozai. I do not. " A deep hum was all you got in return - fabric moved, glancing up, you gulped.

He stood up.

Walking towards you, the flames moved, almost glinding out of his way like a door - he stood before you. Moving his hand in a gesture, you understood to stand straight up , your eyes cast away in respectfear. Walking around you in a circle.

Like a predator hunting his prey. He stood in front of you again after a moment. "Yes. You are perfect." The odd complaint from him did nothing to ease you - seeing your confusion, he hummed."There's an arrangement. Obviously, your Father never told you." The look you held did nothing to stop him,"the arrangement was. His firstborn was to marry my firstborn." The words he spoke caused a mixed sense of emotions in you- confusion, anxiousness. And fear from what was your next thought.

His firstborn was banished.

"But. Giving the events that unfolded with my firstborn. The agreement changed a bit. You will marry my second born."

Clicks of footsteps echoed behind you. You didn't dare look behind you.

"You are to marry my daughter- Azula. Whom I was made aware you were friends of sorts." Turning away, he walked back to his throne. "You will be Wed in two months."

Behind you, someone cleared their throat, turning around, and froze. Azula stood arms crossed, staring at you - almost glaring from how narrowed her eyes were. The same smug smirk from years ago is still present. She almost didn't seem to change much but all the more terrifying. Even if deep down you were happy to see her

"Well. Hello Y/N, " she spoke, voice coming out in a condescending purr. "It seems like we have some catching up to do." Turning, she gestured you to follow her

-

You followed Azula to her room. You've been in it once before, but that was years ago. Before you felt comfortable - now you felt uneasy - tense about the whole thing. Standing far away from the bed but close enough, you looked around the room - it looks the same as it did, but with some added things such as plants and a new dresser replacing the old silver one she used to own.

Azula sat on her bed, pulling some books out to go through every once in a while, looking up at you - face unreadable. Shows how much has changed before you could tell what she was thinking even if she wouldn't show it - now it's like she's a new person - and in a way, she is.

"What's the matter with you?" Azula asked(more like demanded), looking over at her- Azula seemingly growing frustrated at the books in her hands- what about you weren't sure. Turning towards you with eyebrow raised an annoyed look on her face. You haven't answered her yet

"Oh- uh, nothing. Why?" Humming she placed the book down on her lap- gesturing towards the bed. Getting the message you sat down on the edge. She sat silent for a moment before sighing.

"Look." She started after a while. She took a second to think her response through - it was an odd sight. Azula glanced at you- raising an eyebrow at the unnerved state you were in. Standing up, she walked to her counter. "I get it. The situation we're in is weird. " Pulling some object out, she turned to face you. Handing it to you. It looked like a squishy turtle duck

Seeing the confusion on your face when you took it, she sighed, facing away from you once the look of realization hit you. "You always needed something to hold to calm down when you got like this." She spoke, sitting down beside you. Turning it around the squish toy was the same one you were given- and forgot about years ago. When you and Azula were close. The same accidental burn mark on the shell of the toy. You still remember how she gave it too you

-

Sitting on the bench, you held your hurt, burning hand crying. Clutching them close - you knew you shouldn't have let Azula talk you into doing such a trick.

A dangerous trick - yet she did. And here you sat hurt.

And alone.

Hurried footsteps came from behind you - you knew those footsteps. Sitting upright, you used your uninjured hand to whip the tears away harshly. You didn't want to give Azula another reason to tease you.

"There you are" she spoke. Sitting next to you she held something behind her. Face slightly flushed from either embarrassment or what you didn't know- nor gave it much thought once a toy was shoved in your face "here- I. I heard from the towns people that a thing called a 'squishy' helps calm people down. Brings comfort or whatever. So take it. It's yours" Holding it in your hand you smiled tearfully. Azula looked like she practically softened before she turned to your hand- huffing she gestured for it

"we need to clean this."

-

The memory brought a happy smile to your face. Looking up, you saw the quick look of relief on Azulas face before it hardened. "..you kept it?" A shrug was all you got in response for a moment

"Of course I did." Azula mumbled before clearing her throat, brushing you off without a word. Turning away from you - Azula was silent as you messed with the squishy in your hand. Turning towards you, she opened her mouth before shutting it. This caused to pause - Azula never hesitates, nor does she stop until she gets what she wants. Somethings wrong

Before you could ask, a knock came at the door. After giving permission, a maid came in bowing, "My lady, your training room is ready for you." A wave of her hand and the maid ran off hurriedly down the hall.

"You're coming with me." Azula spoke standing. She walked to the door, glancing back at you - an eyebrow arched. Obviously she was waiting for you to follow. Trying to swallow your nerves you jumped up putting the squish on the bed before turning to follow Azula.

The walk was quiet

-

Entering the training room a couple test dummies stood around the room. Arms stretched out like you used to see from the target practice dummies you'd come acrossed before.

"Sit there- I'll be back" Azula pointed towards some benches a bit far off- you sighed- it's better to just let her do what she says half the time anyways.

After you sat on the bench, Azula moved to the changing room. Her mind jumbled. Scattered around, and she couldn't think of a good reason as to why. Pacing back and forth, she clenched her jaw angrily

Azula was panicking on the inside - ever since she found out it was you, she was to marry. Even worse when she saw you. Would she be a horrible wife? Be like her father and treat her spouse horribly to the point of another abandonment? No. She won't be like him. Azula refuses to treat the one she's bound to in such a way - even Azula isn't that cruel of a person. She's not soft - she's not kind either. She knows the reason why you left her even if you didn't say.

It was her fault

Learning the first choice of who you were originally gonna be married to didn't help her feel good at all. Did you know you were gonna marry her brother? That you left cause of that? The selfish, selfish side of Azula prayed that was the real reason you left. She knows it's not, but it's just easier to think

She wants to prove that she's the best choice - the only choice. Of course, the arranged part of the marriage didn't make her feel happy made her feel horrible. If you were to marry her, she'd want it to be of your free will - not be forced.

Azula stopped pacing. What? Why is that the thing she's focused on. Blinking she crossed her arms. Of course the thought of someone being forced to marry her set an uneasy feeling inside her, but. The thought of marrying you wasn't bad at all-

Why is that? It makes no sense why Azula was and still is hung up on a loss of a friend. The loss of you since the beginning was horrible. It made her sick- she'd admit it only to herself now that she missed you- but.. why does she feel relief from the thought of marrying you? Was it cause she knew you?

Shaking her head she quickly got dressed

-

Fiddling with your thumbs, you glanced around the room - thankfully, in a more relaxed mood. Your heart no longer felt like leaping out of your chest. The whole area was spotless- which wasn't a surpise given how certain people would react to a messy training hall. You shuddered at the memory.

Looking over when the door opened, your face flushed a bit. Azula was already looking your way when she came out. Without a word, she stepped up and moved the dummies a bit before she begins she started to stretch. Standing straight she smirked back at you.

"Keep those eyes on me," she begain her training. Hitting the dummies far back with a punch in the air- blue flames came out in a flicker illuminating her air and passing some of the training dummies closest- but surprisingly never touching them. Only hitting her target

It wasn't much of a surpise on how good of a fighter Azula was- but you can't help but you can't help but still be surprised at how well she can control her flames. You've seen fire benders fight and train before, this wasn't the first- but it was the first seeing just how different she was to the others. If anyone else tried this. Tried to hit the target from the farthest to the front. 100% the flames passing the others would be hit and burned, but for Azula- it was like it never touched.

The more she hit and kicked, the more in awe you were in watching. If anything, it looked like a dance you'd see from how fluent and confident Azula moved to attack.

As quick as she began, the training ended. Azula walked towards you, and she didn't even break a sweat- even her hair was kept in place even though she was hitting and kicking. Standing infront of you she crossed her arms almost smirking. "Well?" She spoke with an eyebrow raised

"You were perfect! How did you even do that?"

"I'm a natural. No trouble at all" Azula spoke smugly- she wasn't gonna tell you how long it took for her to get the attack right when she was younger. Everything needs to be perfect. Azula hummed, interrupting your praise for a moment. "..We added more flowers to the garden. I'll show you" she spoke almost oddly. The praise you gave her felt weird- but it filled her ego. Of course it was perfect.

This was Azula

Nothing less than perfect no matter what.

She turned to leave to redress ignoring your call.

"We'll go once I come back"

-

The garden wasn't totally different from how it was since the last time you saw it. The tree in the middle has grown much older but still hanging strong - a knew bench was placed near it, giving the tree and pond underneath. The sun hitting perfectly in-between the leafs and from the rocks below made it have almost a glow to it.

Looking around, the bushes nearby were cut in the specific square way the Fire Lord himself seemed to prefer rather than the rounded ones. Stopping once you heard quaking noises. A smile came over your face, walking to the center pond. You knelt down, looking at the turtle ducks

"Here. You can feed them if you'd like" Azula spoke, holding a small bag of bread out. Thanking her you took it and started to break them up. Azula watched her eyes softening at the sight.

Azula couldn't put her finger on what was wrong with her. Was it her nerves? Why does this scene in front of her make her feel off? The way you're kneeling in front of the turtle ducks the way you gently fed them. The way the lowering sub hits your face. Blinking, she scowled, looking away from you. Looking out to the pond on the other side

"Do you want to feed one, Azula?" Not getting a response, you looked over, frowning at what you saw.

Azula looked almost troubled by something. "Azula?" Calling out to her gave no help. It was like she was here but not here at the moment. Calling out to her again in a softer tone to not startle her- she blinked at you slowly before registering where she was. Standing up, you watched her closely

"Azula. Are you ok?"

Azula just nodded slowly. A moment passes before she bits her tongue. A question on the tip of her tongue. She doesn't want to ask. But she has to. She needs to if she really wants to not be like her father. Not in this way at least

"Are we still friends?" Azula asked before she could stop. "Like I know this is an arrangement but. Are we?"

You didn't responded right away. Just stood there thinking. The way she looked at you- you couldn't tell what she was thinking. It was like looking at a new person. Slowly nodding your head "yes we are." You bit your lip in thought "can we have a do over? From how things ended-" it was a selfish thing to ask. To pretend you didn't just disappear from her life.

Azula nodded her head

"Then.. we can start over?" You said, looking away from Azula for a moment - turning back to look at her - her gaze was on the pond in front of you both.

"Don't see why not. We're not getting married for a couple of months, so we have time"

[bluesylveon2]

TWST Royal AU Masterlist

Oh, I didn't see you there. Come sit and make yourself comfortable. Curious about this, right? In this reality, you will find stories about multiple people falling in love. These people could range from rich to poor, popular to outcast. You get the picture. With that being said, feel free to look through this library and find what interests you. There are multiple stories just waiting to be read.

Note: all Readers will be referred to Yuu and be female since it is easier for me to write. Some may also make cameos in other stories and will be referred to as something else (ex: Lady Vanrouge) to avoid confusion. Characters are aged up

Will update depending on if I feel inspired to write (names may change)

Where do you want to go?

Queendom of Roses - coming soon

King Riddle x Knight Reader - WIP

Four card soldiers suspect their king has feelings for Yuu, but he denies it. It is up to them and a cat beastman to push the two together.

Sunset Savanna:

Love at First...Fight? (Leona x Reader) Part 2

What was supposed to be a simple trip becomes complicated thanks to a green-eyed prince.

The Way to Ruggie's Heart is With Donuts (Ruggie x Reader)

A night to be like the rich leads Ruggie to meeting someone while bonding over donuts

Jack x Reader

Who knew the young boy Yuu found in the streets was the lost Prince Cheka? And why is there a wolf involved?!

Coral Sea - coming soon

Merchant Azul x Spade Reader (she is Deuces younger sister) - WIP

It's a race against time for Yuu to save her brother and punch Azul’s face (order does not matter)

Scalding Sands - coming soon

Kalim x Reader

Who is that you hear? It's none other than Prince Kalim!

Jamil x Reader

As a servant of the Asim family, Jamil must follow Kalim's wishes. What if he meets someone who sees him as Jamil? Should he be set free?

Shaftlands - coming soon

Duke Vil x Reader - WIP

In order to escape a persistent suitor, Yuu enters a fake engagement with the infamous bachelor Vil

Island of Woe: (just Idia. Ortho’s would be platonic)

The Fates Design (Idia x Reader)

Watch as childhood friends Yuu and Idia fall in love throughout the years. Prompt idea inspired by @lilkasr's ask

Briar Valley:

The Princess and the General (Lilia x Reader) Part 2 (same fic as Silver's)

What happens when two former lovers meet after a long time?

A Chance Meeting (Malleus x Reader) Part 2

Two strangers unexpectedly as if it was fate.

I Walked With You Once Upon a Dream (Silver x Reader) Part 2 (same fic as Lilia's)

Two souls find themselves in Dream World, a place with an endless sea and sky.

A Love as Sweet as This (Sebek x Reader)

When Queen Draconia demands for cake, it is Sebek's duty to get it for her.

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

©: These stories belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-23. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.