#dating woozi

[cheolsblackgf]

office encounters [l.jh]

⇒ woozi x reader

⇒ word count: 3.8k (including the bonus)

⇒ warnings: just some insults but nothing too crazy

⇒ content: office romance; rivals to lovers; some kissing yadda yadda; little bit of girl bossing

⇒ note: hello pls don’t @ me about how long it’s been i already know.. didn’t think this would mark my return bc i wrote this almost a year ago but lowkey i kinda cooked with this one so i thought i’d share.. also side note PLEASE come to my inbox if you find an error bc i literally proofread like 14 times looking for this one error i saw before but it just disappeared or smth idk so if you find it i’ll give you a brownie!!! anyways 시작해볼까요

“You look pretty today.”

Jihoon from corporate communication usually has a sarcastic quip for you when you cross paths in the copy room. Where humor comes easy for him, annoyance comes easy for you the same. You both seem to get on each other’s nerves in all the right ways; never enough to report the other to HR, but enough that you’d steer clear of him the entire day if he said something that got under your skin. Something like, “Why’s marketing’s posters suck so bad?” He’ll ask, and subsequently answer himself with, “Oh, that’s right. ‘Cause you’re the one making them.” Either he doesn’t know you spend so much time figuring out which design looks best, or he knows and purposely wants to get you riled up. It works, because you’re an emotional person and if someone criticizes your work, it feels like a personal attack.

This time, though, you’re making flyers for the office yard sale slash fundraiser, and he’s making copies of coupons for the local stores. Since there are about forty floors in your building, you’ll easily be occupied for at least two hours, hanging multiple flyers on each floor. Jihoon has his hands full as well, he makes one hundred copies for each store, with there being four stores total in the area. Luckily, you go to the copier first, so when he walks in, you quickly rest with a smug smile on your face.

“Hey,” he says casually. You’re waiting for him to tell you to hurry your ass up on the copier but he doesn’t. Hey?

Instead, you respond, “Hi,” and turn back to the copier to see how many sheets are left. Still sixty five.

“You look pretty today.” He tries next. You almost hit cancel on the print job right then and there. How can he say something like that. You look pretty today? Try again, Lee! It’s not gonna work!

You don’t immediately thank him for his compliment. You just think that somehow, he’ll add in a “—pretty ugly!” and then laugh it off. That’s the Jihoon you know. Not this “hey” man. Usually when you walk into the copy room, he groans and rolls his eyes. He always has a dig ready, too. “Didn’t realise it was loser day at the copy machine.” He’d say. You always have something to come back at him with. “Must be why you’re here.” It doesn’t seem like he’ll bicker with you today at all.

The display on the machine says there’s still forty sheets left. That means you can either pretend you left something at your desk and quickly exit the room until it’s done, or you can brave it and see what this guy is up to.

The second one. “I look pretty today? What are you up to?” You narrow your eyes at him, assuming there’s either a catch or some sort of joke hidden in his praise.

“No gimmicks,” he shrugs. “I just call it like I see it.” Oh, okay.

He’s standing on one side of the machine with you at the other. The polite smile stained on his face drives you up a wall. You feel like if you reciprocate it, it’ll be overkill. Him complimenting you doesn’t change the fact that you are office enemies. His team and your team often clash, as they’re the ones that share your team’s ideas with the higher ups, only after an intense filtering which often strips your ideas down to nothing. It always sucks because he acts so smug about it when your ideas don’t get pitched how you envisioned them. “Get some better ideas then,” he’d say. Of course, you can’t go out like that, so you tell him “Tell your team to think of one idea to begin with. You get your rocks off by stealing ours, your department would be helpless without us.” It’s mostly true, but sometimes, Jihoon has good ideas. When you two are having a good day, you’ll show each other ideas and give helpful feedback. But that usually doesn’t happen if either one of you has a quip locked and loaded already.

“Didn’t realise your mouth was able to produce compliments when it comes to me.” Twenty two sheets left. He reaches over you for the mini scotch tape. “You know, usually when someone compliments you, you just say thank you and forget about it in five minutes.” While he focuses on his task with the tape, you stare at the display on the copier and watch the number of sheets remaining go down, just so you don’t have to look at him.

He’s never called you pretty before. You need everyone to understand this. The only times he compliments you are rare and they’re always work related. Nice job during that tug of war. Those prints look great. These tchotchke designs would surely sell well. The dessert you brought to the potluck was delicious.

New to the list: you look pretty today.

You’re not sure how to feel internally, but externally, your mind is already made up. You’re annoyed. How could he say something like that with such a serious face and not be joking? Why couldn’t he be joking?

“I would say thank you, but I don’t know what this is.” He raises his eyebrows at your comment. “This? I don’t know what it is either because I can’t figure out what you’re talking about.”

The copier chimes to tell you the print job is finished. You log out of the machine and move aside to collect your sheets. You’ll definitely have to make a second trip—and perhaps with a box of some sort to hold all of the sheets—but you just want to leave this room.

Jihoon starts to grab a stack of the sheets as well. “Where are these going?” He asks, sounding nothing but sincere.

“Don’t know yet. I have to put them on each floor, though. I’ll find something to put them in in a little bit.”

“D’you need help?”

You set the sheets down. “Okay, listen. I was fine playing that game three minutes ago, but I don’t get it. Every day you look at me like the bane of your existence. You tell me my designs suck, you only fill my tea mug halfway when I ask for some, and you hog the copy machine whenever I need to use it. What gives?”

It would be hard to refute the fact that Jihoon is very handsome, and you have imagined an alternate universe where he was nice to you and even flirted with you, but nothing past that. You’ve never thought of what it would be like to be his girlfriend, to wake up in the morning beside him, to have him fill your tea mug up until it’s full, to meet in the copy room to steal a few extra kisses—okay, maybe a couple times you’ve thought of this. But it almost always gets overshadowed by his behaviour towards you. He is rude to you. He doesn’t like you enough to give up the act, but he also doesn’t hate you enough to ignore you completely. He has some sort of balance that only works with you. He playfully fights with other coworkers, but only as a stand-alone. Your feud is cemented into the very foundations of the building you each show up to every morning at seven o’clock on the dot. It’s ritualistic. It’s familiar. It sucks.

Jihoon leans against the wall and crosses his arms. “What gives? I just think you look pretty today. Can’t a man compliment his pretty coworker once? It’s really not that unheard of, but if you think something else is going on, you’re right. I like you. I never said it before because I assumed you also liked me which is why we do what we do, but I’m getting the feeling you don’t feel the same way which is fine. We can just go back to how we were and forget this ever happened.”

You take the stack of copies you were holding before and quickly leave the room. Once they’re placed on your desk, you awkwardly make your way back to the copy room and get the next set of sheets. Jihoon hasn’t moved from his position against the wall even after you’ve signed off of the machine and relocated the copies out of the way.

Truthfully, you just didn’t know what to say. Him confessing this way was not only unexpected, but also a bit annoying. To think, he’s liked you all this time but consistently and routinely found enjoyment in belittling you. Granted, you also took part in it against him, but only as retaliation and defense for yourself. The whole reason this rivalry started was because he made a comment against you. Why would you be mean to someone you like?

The week goes by slowly without Jihoon’s teasing. He comes by your cubicle once to offer you a mini cupcake from the convenience store on the fifth floor. You decline. He doesn’t come back again.

You thought of pulling him aside to really unpack and discuss everything, but then you consider how much worse it could get if you do that. Things are already pretty bad if neither of you have spoken or even just said hi to each other.

By Friday of the next week, though, you’ve had it with the silence. Your cubicle conveniently is in view of the copy room so you slyly watch the door waiting for Jihoon to go in there. He always prints to-do sheets on Friday for everyone in his department for the following week. At eleven on the dot, you see him disappear in there and you make your move immediately, booking it for the room.

You casually walk in and shut the door, but not before making sure no one was coming. No one really likes it when the door to the copy room is shut because people have been caught doing … things in there, but this shouldn’t take you long. Definitely not enough time to do … things with anyone.

“Hey,” You try, in the same tone as he used with you last week. He looks up from the machine and gives you a confused yet tired look. “What are you doing?” He sighs.

“You look pretty today.” You smile, hopping up on the counter and swinging your legs. He finishes signing in on the printer and runs his print job. He turns around to face you fully. “If you’re here to make fun of me for being nice to you, I think it’s best you stop now because I don’t find it amusing.”

You grin at him. “The opposite actually. I think it’s cute that you like me, but I really wish you would’ve asked me on a date first. And maybe just been nicer to begin with?” Both your eyes dart to the door as a polite knock is heard from the outside. You jump down from the counter and place your hands on Jihoon’s shoulders from behind. Your head rounds the side of his face. “Walk me to my car later?” And he agrees.

You go to let the person in and see yourself out. It feels a bit elementary, that proposal. Walk me to my car? gives the same energy as walk me home from the bus stop? and if you weren’t already getting some twisted wave of déjà vu, you definitely are now.

You didn’t know Jihoon until last year when he started working for this company. The previous person in his position suffered an extreme illness that forced them to resign so he promptly had to fill their position. He wasn’t trained that well, but he’s done the best he could thus far. You don’t know what you would do if he wasn’t in the office. Of course, some of your coworkers are also people you get drinks with from time to time, but Jihoon feels the most… familiar. Despite having never met with him outside of the office, he feels like the most grounding person since he doesn’t put on any front or act with you. You wouldn’t let him either. That’s why his confession feels so out of left field on the one hand, but normal on the other. He doesn’t hide how he feels from you, but he must have if he’s liked you and hasn’t said it until now.

Later comes. It’s 3:42 PM when you finally wrap it up for the day. Jihoon usually leaves earlier than you, but it appears he waited to clock out so you two would leave at the same time.

Okay, you’ll admit that’s sweet. You don’t think you’d do the same for him, but only because you don’t like your job enough to stay any later.

He meets you at your cubicle. “All done?” He asks, moving into your space to help you with your things. “Yep. If you could just carry this bag for me, that would be great, thank you.” He takes the bag from you with no qualms and waits patiently as you gather the rest of your belongings.

You were sadly unable to finish all the work you meant to get done today, so you’re leaving with a bit of homework—namely designing some flyers for part two of the yard sale slash fundraiser. The first fundraiser didn’t go as planned, so the upper level management suggested a second instalment.

Jihoon probably has the same amount of work too, so you wonder how he’s leaving the office empty handed.

On the elevator ride down, neither of you say anything. All you do is stare at the bright red floor descent display and wait until it gets to 1. Upon this happening, Jihoon lets you off first and you lead the way to the parking garage.

“I take it you didn’t get a lot done today?” He wonders, surveying the various items you’re carrying. “Sadly. Honestly, if Claudette hadn’t announced the second fundraiser, I’d be as carefree and empty handed as you.” You meant to come off as nonchalant, but judging by the way Jihoon completely stopped in his tracks upon your completion of the sentence, it was everything but that. “Carefree and empty handed?” He parrots in disbelief.

“CC is scrambling to get Q3 numbers up before having to report to corporate and nothing is working. Honestly, if Claudette didn’t conjure up another fundraiser, you would’ve had to find another sad sap to carry your things to your car because I wouldn’t be here right now.” He explains, which makes you laugh a bit but otherwise frown. You didn’t realise the company’s numbers were so far down that the fundraiser is essentially a double edged sword, but you figured it couldn’t have been for no reason.

Jihoon has always been very efficient with his work, even if about two months ago (maybe even less) you would’ve scoffed and said otherwise. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.” You say, meaning to be encouraging but not entirely sure if it came off that way. “Thanks. You too.”

With your hands full, you couldn’t grab your keys to unlock your car so you have Jihoon do it for you. “Where is this bag going?” He holds it up just in case you forgot which bag it is. “Uh, you can just throw it in the backseat. Well, don’t literally throw it but um—”

“I got it.” He chuckles at your disorganised thoughts.

Once all of your things are settled in the car, you close everything up and stand face to face with Jihoon. “Thank you for the help, I really appreciate it.” You say. “Anytime. I hope you get all your work done.” You reflect the wish back to him. Sadly, you guys just awkwardly stand there for a bit before realising this conversation is not going anywhere else.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, hm? You have my number, right?” He nods and bids you goodbye. You get into your car but don’t start it. Instead, you watch through your rearview mirror as Jihoon turns the corner to the staircase. Had you known his car was on a different level, you would’ve offered to drop him off since the parking garage’s elevator is out of commission. However, in hindsight, the conversation was already awkward enough.

Later that night, you two text back and forth for multiple hours. All the way until 2AM you guys were exchanging messages. He’s really a sweet guy even over text.

At 2:19, he texts you goodnight and says he’ll see you in the morning.

In the morning, like you expected, you see Jihoon milling about the office floor. He sends you a wave, but his hands are full so it’s nothing more than that. You try to catch him to offer your help, but he disappears in an instant.

The flyers you were supposed to make were only half done because most of your time last night was spent talking to Jihoon. You’re extremely guilty, and you feel horrible because you know all the work you have will carry into the weekend, but you made your bed.

Eventually, Jihoon visits you at your cubicle and apologises for keeping you up last night. “It’s not your fault. I wanted to talk to you.” He smiles at this and gives your shoulder a supportive pat. “You’ll get it done.”

For the rest of the day, he leaves you alone—other than bringing you a mug of tea—and honestly, that was for the best. You do manage to catch up on and finish all the work so you text Jihoon the good news. He suggests ice cream after work to celebrate and you agree.

Your manager stops by your cubicle to compliment your hard work. “And I saw you being extra smiley with Jihoon. Good luck.” Before you can refute her statement with any type of defense, she disappears.

Extra smiley. Hm.

At the end of the day, Jihoon meets you at your cubicle once again and this time, you don’t have anything for him to carry except your comically large tote bag that you bring into the office everyday. Before you two leave, you grab your heels from under your desk that you change out of everyday upon arrival to the office. You attempt to put them in your bag, but Jihoon shakes his head. “Put those on.”

“Why?”

“We’re going out to dinner. As a date.” He reveals. You drop the heels back on the floor. “You really are a sad sap.” You remark, sliding one of your sneakers off. “Not for everyone.”

“So you’re saying I’m special?”

“Something like that, yeah.” He speaks nonchalantly. Coming from him, though, these words mean a lot to you. Ever since his initial confession, you can tell not all of his confidence is there. But it’s your goal to show him that he doesn’t have to try as hard, he’s already got you.

As you struggle with getting your sock off, Jihoon groans. “Hurry up, the reservation is for six o’clock.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Reservation? Wow, you must really like me.” He watches as you slip the other heel on. “You know that already. Come on.” He grabs your hand and leads you to the elevator. You press the down button and wait for the elevator to come up. In that time, Jihoon takes your bag from you and fixes the wrinkles in your dress.

The two of you step into the elevator and after hitting 1, the doors close and it begins its descent. In the reflective doors, Jihoon stares at you. “You’re so pretty.” He says. “Am I?” You respond. He nods. “Thank you, my sad sap.” You add, pausing for dramatic effect.

“Okay, you were pretty until about five seconds ago.” He clarifies, but holds your hand tighter all the while. He thinks maybe you’re right, he is a sad sap. But only when it comes to you.

[the end]

SIKEEEEE

BONUS

You’re almost giggling on your way to the copy room. As soon as you saw Jihoon go in there, you knew it was your cue. It wasn’t any type of plan or anything, but lately, you guys have only been able to meet in the copy room because everyone has gotten extremely suspicious of you guys and you didn’t wanna say anything.

As soon as you make it to the room, you shut the door and see your boyfriend already working on the machine. You hop up and make your place on the counter while Jihoon does his thing. “Clear?” He asks with his back to you. “Clear. For now. Come here.” You hold your arms out just as he turns to you and he makes his way over. “Missed you last night.” You whisper. He leans in to your embrace and presses a kiss to your lips. “Me too. Let’s get dinner tonight.” All your plans with Jihoon have been spontaneous because the workload has been unpredictable lately. If you both end the day with no incomplete assignments, you’ll go out and do something together, but if not, you save it for another day.

His print job ends and he reluctantly breaks away from you to go grab his copies. There’s only maybe twenty in the stack, but he asks you if you have any to make. You hand him the sheet you’re copying and he starts it up for you while you wait patiently on the counter. You zone out to the sound of Jihoon clicking around on the printer settings, so much so that you don’t hear him when he asks you how many copies you need. He asks again, “How many copies, baby?”

“Oh! Sorry, thirty-six please.” He’s not annoyed you weren’t listening. In fact, he smiles a little bit and is amused.

He inputs the amount you need and waits for the machine to start printing before making his way back to you. “What do you feel like for dinner?” He asks, caging you in with his arms. “Not sure, but not seafood.”

He pouts. “But baby, I love seafood.”

“Then you can go get seafood and I’ll stay home and watch Queen of Tears.” He gasps at this idea. Even though you’re not serious, he fakes being upset for a second.

A moment later, the door opens and your manager Claudette walks in. She doesn’t see you two right away, but once she does, she says “Oh brother,” and walks right out. She leaves the door open and you can hear her call out to someone else and say, “You owe me twenty dollars!”

You and Jihoon exchange a look. “Who do you think she’s talking to?” You ask him. He pauses for a second and moves away from you. “Me.”

“What?” But he’s already on his way out of the room. “See you later!” He doesn’t realise that he’s forgotten his copies so you’ll definitely be seeing him again soon.

The office will definitely be on fire by tomorrow with this news, you’re already aware. On the bright side, though, you can finally celebrate your first public couple activity: getting bullied by the entire office.

[the end (real)]

masterlist

[wifeyoozi]

Today's edition of ceecee's woozi collections 😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🎀🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🤩🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻☝🏻🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

[cassiomaximo]

Read the plas valentine oneshot thing. Am a hater. A lazy one

[multifandomkpop3]

𝐎𝐭13 𝐁𝐅𝐅! 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚙, 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚆𝚘𝚘𝚣𝚒 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚞𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚂𝚟𝚝 𝙷𝚢𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝙻𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚡 𝙱𝙵𝙵 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

[lizziexmeow]

[ SVT UPDATE 🌟 TWITTER ] 241111 - 00:00 KST

[plasplasplas]

You could tell me the people who wrote/drew that story had never seen a single other plastic man property and instead had him explained to them once at a party and I'd believe you.

I thought the entire book was kinda eh not just the Plas story so maybe it was more whoever 'directed' the book?? Editors and whatnot? For stories about passion, they were hollow. It felt like every single thing about plas was ignored in favour of making him some larger-than-life playboy. Oh but he's actually soooooo lonely do you care 🥺 🥺 🥺. Does booster not fill that niche enough? (I did like the booster story. That one was fun).

Like that was just. A different character altogether. Even other characters in the story felt sooo out of wack. Why is Batman drunk at a party stealin his girl. Why is wonder woman literally forgetting he even exists. Why is this cafe owner playing catty and hard to get. Who acts like that.

And oooooo that fat joke made me mad. In 2024? Really? Come on. I'm on the heavier side myself and it was pretty disappointing to see.

I hate being nitpicky but the art wasnt great. The v-neck, huge diamond, and shorts? Nah not for me.

Is her nose pointed up or down. Plz decide

I DID like the part where he's forced to confront his people-pleasing attitude and learn that it's not actually bringing him happiness. That felt real. That hit. Everything around that? Well I'm gonna forget it ever happened cuz ohhhh my god that sucked. That suuuuhhuhhhcked~

[analogboii]

so i keep pulling my best friends biases. and today i pulled both scoups AND hoshi in a single album 💀💀

this is about how it goes every time bc i pull scoups and hoshi all the time its so funny 💀💀 even when i order stuff off etsy sometimes theyll come w a random pc freeb and i got scoups and hoshi from those too its so funny to me (also she lives 20 hours from me which is why i cant just give her the pcs. by the time im able to visit i might as well have a whole binder cause damn her bitches wont leave me alone smh)

[vcrnons]

[ikigaisvt]

THIS IS MY LAST STRAW DO NOT TOUCH ME DO NOT EVEN LOOK AT ME.

[s00nyoungie]

TIL there are people who wont bias woozi bc of his height?????

[sowhat17live]

Seventeen's 11th mini album's time and date of release are made know now😭😭🔥

I'm so excited! 😣❤️‍🔥

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

DON'T SWEAT IT. - l.jh

Today — the first time in a small forever that he forgot to check the battery on his earphones (and subsequently had them die on him mid-workout) — Jihoon is forced to notice you.

pairing; lee jihoon x fem!reader.  content; fluff / gym crush au / strangers to lovers / kinda idiots to lovers / smut towards the end (MINORS DNI). w/c; just a breezy 18k- and some change? warnings; swearing, this is only proof read once because if i read it again i was going to lose my mind. please let me know if i've forgotten any. smut tags under the cut ( not sure that this counts as a warning but a heads up: the gym weight units, whenever mentioned, are in kilograms not lbs because i’m british and the metric system, am i right? sorry if there are any other british-isms, i try really hard to avoid them/catch them on a proofread but there are inevitably some that have slipped through the net.  )

note; gym-selfie jihoon, you will never not own my ass. ( screaming internally this is the first fic i've written since my dan + phil youtube era. i don't know what i'm doing. this has been in my wips for about two months. it's a bit all over the place. that's. literally just me. bon appetite. <3 )

smut warnings: making out, grinding, fingering (f rec), oral (f rec), blowjob started/implied (at the end), protected sex (be safe out there gang), little bit of biting, no huge power dynamics? reader & jihoon are both switches (and simps), some use of pet-names (good girl/baby).

—————

He first sees you around lunchtime on an otherwise unassuming Sunday. 

As you walk in, the gym is wonderfully quiet. A handful of regulars mill about, making full use of the rare freedom of the machinery. One of the club’s personal trainers is marching an impossibly steep incline on a treadmill. It could just be any other weekend session in this criminally over-equipped and under-used gym: the town’s worst kept secret. But when the door slams shut behind you, his head jerks up; it, in this moment, is the loudest sound in the room. It’s sort of the only one he hears at all.

Today — the first time in a small forever that he forgot to check the battery on his earphones (and subsequently had them die on him mid-workout) — Jihoon is forced to notice you as he sits with dumbbells rested against his thighs. He catches his breath as he wonders who you are, if you’ve ever been to this gym before, why he doesn’t recognise you. Are you a new potential regular, maybe? Or just visiting the area and making good use of the cheap pay-as-you-go rates? Maybe, he considers, lips turning downwards in thought… maybe you’ve been coming here for a long time and he’s somehow just always been so in his own head that he’s never noticed.

The last, he thinks, is sort of unlikely. No. He would definitely remember a face like yours.

His heart rate slows more than he usually lets it as he finds himself watching you fill up your water bottle at the fountain, taking a long sip on your way over to one of the stairmasters. His brain blanks out when he realises that he’s not just looking anymore, he’s sort of staring, and swallows the saliva on his tongue hard, looking back at the mirror. He doesn’t want to be that guy. He isn’t that guy – he just got distracted by the loud noise, and this is exactly why he checks the damn battery on his headphones before he leaves the house. 

The only problem is that now, he can’t remember how many sets he’s done. He lies back and stares straight into a slightly sketchy light-fixture, neglecting to pick up the dumbbells that he put aside for his next set of pushes. Jihoon adjusts the position of his shoulders against the bench, arches his back off it slightly, digs his heels into the spongy floor beneath them and pushes the ones still in his hands until failure. 

Today, he finishes his routine and leaves the gym without allowing himself so much as another glance your way.

He neglects to notice that your eyes are avoiding him right back. 

—————

You smile at him for the first time on a Tuesday. Not the following one – a week and a bit later.

Seungcheol is with him tonight. Jihoon prefers to train alone nine times out of ten: this is a truth widely acknowledged, accepted and respected among his friends. Gym time is his down time, his equivalent of movie marathons and comfort food, of face masks and glasses of wine. But it’s not a hard rule: occasionally, someone will ask to tag along and use one of his guest passes, and Jihoon very rarely says no. There are two reasons. One, he isn’t actually rude, contrary to approximately eighteen running jokes in the group-chat. But also, it adds a little bit of variety to his otherwise very set-in-stone regimen, and mixing it up doesn’t hurt. Like tonight, for example. Seungcheol is pulling him into the studio off the main gym floor, his own gym bag packed with boxing pads and gloves for them to play with.

Variety.

Jihoon grumbles a little at the idea, at first. He has a very love-hate relationship with cardio, favouring a simple steady-state run over everything else, and it just feels a bit against his moral code to use gym time for something like this. However, he comes to discover very quickly that smacking Seungcheol’s hands is very therapeutic; Jihoon knows he’s maybe getting a little too into it when his friend asks if they can switch around, grimacing and shaking out his wrist after a particularly beefy punch. 

He agrees, albeit reluctantly, tugging off the gloves he’s wearing and pulling on the pads instead.

This half of the activity is considerably less enjoyable for Jihoon; he starts to cool down and loses his flow almost straight away and after about thirty seconds, his breathing is back to normal and he feels ready to go again. Even so, he does what he needs to do to be a good workout partner, and goes one step further into ‘good friend’ territory as he allows Seungcheol to vent about the bad day he had at work in-between hits, offering murmurs and looks of disgust when it feels appropriate. Suddenly, the impromptu request to come to the gym tonight makes much more sense, as does the slightly bizarre choice of activity, but Jihoon tries not to ask about it in too much detail.

They swing at each other for a few more rounds apiece, working up a healthy sweat and getting out a few frustrations as the hour wears on. On the last set, Jihoon switches out Seungcheol’s hands for a punching bag, putting a lot more of his weight behind every hit and really tiring himself out. By the end, his hair sticks to his forehead and his cheeks have flushed bright red; he only stops when he gets that weird, metallic taste in the back of his mouth that says he’s probably overdone it. Again.

“Hit the shower?” Seungcheol asks breathlessly as he finishes his last set of Russian twists and lies down flat on the floor, equally sticky and flushed all over. 

Jihoon pats his face dry with his towel, shaking his head. “You go ahead. I’ll have one at home.” 

He doesn’t give Seungcheol much of a chance to respond, already cleaning down anything he’s touched or managed to sweat on and riding out the high of the endorphins flooding his veins. Secretly, he hasn’t had a cardio session this high energy or this satisfying in a long time. He isn’t going to readily admit to that though.

“Nah, I’ll do the same,” Seungcheol agrees. He starts packing the gear he brought with him into his bag and they leave together after, heading towards the exit. 

That’s when he sees you again. 

He doesn’t notice at first; you’re stowing your things into one of the higher lockers, and you have your headphones slung around your neck as he walks past. It’s the sound of a song he vaguely recognises through your speakers that makes his head snap over from the conversation he’s in the middle of. They walk past at the moment you drop down from your tiptoes, and you flash a small (but insanely pretty) smile at Jihoon.

By the time he manages to process this fact, he’s already walked past you and you’re headed over into the main gym area, so even though he turns around to try and catch your eye, all he sees is your retreating figure. He stumbles over his own feet, not looking where he’s going, and just barely catches himself on Seungcheol’s upper arm before he actually does fall over. His older friend glances down at his bicep before he adopts a look that Jihoon has seen many, many times before: just never directed at him. His cheeks heat up further and he looks away.

“What was that?” Seungcheol asks, one eyebrow so far up his forehead that it’s disappeared almost entirely under his soggy hair. He looks so smug, so incredibly entertained. Jihoon wants to smack that expression off his face, immediately.

“Nothing,” Jihoon rushes, managing not to act on the violent thought even though he wants to. He clears his throat. “No-one. I-... they’re new, I think. I don’t know.”

Seungcheol lets out a soft laugh, pushing the door open for them both to leave through. “Yeah,” he scoffs, eyes glimmering with something Jihoon doesn’t think he likes the look of. “Nothing, my ass.”

—————

Three days later, he hears you speak for the first time.

Granted, you aren’t speaking to him – at least, not at first. But that’s not really what matters.

It’s late, and it’s a Friday night. Fridays are usually Jihoon’s days rest days, but sitting around his apartment had him feeling impossibly twitchy, with far too much energy to burn and no way to do so without leaving the house. And he knows that he needs to take days off, now and again. He knows that they’re good for recovery and that it’s healthy to take time to himself that involves not lifting weights. But what he also knows is that if he doesn’t manage to shake the weird buzzing feeling in his muscles, in his joints, in his veins, he’s never going to get to sleep. So, here he finds himself at almost 10PM, walking down the street to get to the gym.

To begin with, he doesn’t know (or really care) who it is that’s coming up behind him. He can hear quite clearly that the mystery person is on the phone, and that they’re in the middle of what seems to be a rather heated argument: his brain latches onto occasional words, phrases, curses. Every now and again, their voice drops to a deep, frustrated mutter and he cringes slightly, making a point to keep his eyes forward and down so as not to draw attention to the fact that this presumably private conversation has become everything but.

He touches his entry fob to the sensor on the door as he arrives and pushes it open. Jihoon uses the opportunity to stand still, to glance back at whoever it is that’s walked behind him for the past four and a half minutes, and his eyes come to land on you. He falters, noting how your eyes are a bit glassy and your cheeks are stained with what he can safely assume are tear-tracks. In this moment, he wants to run; he doesn’t want anything to do with that, and he certainly doesn’t want to hear any more of your call. It’s none of his business, and he feels plenty weird enough already with what he has overheard. But, for some unknown reason, he stays in place.

“No – no, you don’t get to-...” you hiss into your phone. “It was our fucking anniversary, you asshole.” Jihoon’s face tightens at that, lips drawn between his teeth and his eyes blowing slightly wide. You pass through the door in front of him, flashing a small smile as you go. Another smile, he thinks to himself, but he’d be an idiot to compare them in any way; this one is so dramatically dissimilar to the first, he thinks it could almost have come from a totally different person. 

Unfortunately, there’s nothing ‘insanely pretty’ about it this time. Your smile is tight-lipped and exhausted, slightly apologetic. Maybe even forced. He does try to return a warmer one to you, but he doesn’t know if you notice. 

“Look, I’m at the gym – we’re not doing this right now. I’ll call you later.” You hang up the phone with the kind of sigh that groans in the back of your throat.

A small part of him wants to take this moment and use it to ask if you’re all right, but an even larger part of him doesn’t. It isn’t because he doesn’t care. In a weird way, considering this is only the first time he’s clearly heard your voice and he knows absolutely nothing about you, he does care. But there are a few things that stop him. Not only are you a near-complete stranger, not only would he have no idea what to say to you if the answer happened to come out as a ‘no’, not only is he already coming over a little bit clammy at the thought of having a conversation with you… Jihoon isn’t stupid. He knows from the sound of your voice and the way you’re rather aggressively typing a message into your phone that it’s a ridiculous question.

You’re walking into the gym at 10 o’clock on a Friday night, your eyes literally brimming with tears. Of course you’re not all right.

He’s still standing in the open doorway mulling all this over, but Jihoon only realises when a gust of wind slaps over his calves and sends a draught not only through the reception area, but up the length of his spine. He comes inside fully as you close the locker you’re using – he notices, but he isn’t sure why, that it’s the same one as last time – and throws his things into the one he always uses. Two below and one to the left of yours.

It’s quiet tonight: just the pair of you and one middle-aged guy. Jihoon recognises him as the friendly man who seemingly knows everyone who comes in here – including you, apparently, judging by the way he strikes up a short but energetic conversation. When the other guy walks away, you clamp your headphones back over your ears and return to what you were doing before, occasionally bobbing your head or moving your lips in time with whatever it is that you’re listening to. Jihoon steals little glances at you now and again when you’re in-between sets, watching how you breathe deeper, how your skin glows with sweat as you tap your fingertips against your thighs.

He almost drops the bar he’s holding when you catch his eyes in the long line of mirrors. He turns away, swallowing hard, completely missing how your own gaze lingers.

Jihoon becomes so obsessed with not being caught looking at you again that he doesn’t even notice when you disappear off the gym floor completely. It’s only when he pulls his headphones off at the end of his session and glances around that he registers your absence: your third companion is long gone, and he assumes you must have snuck out without him noticing too. He settles the speakers back over his ears before pulling on an old zip-up, flicking the hood over his head to shelter him a little better once he gets outside. But he’s in no rush to get home so he takes his time, resting his bag between his abdomen and the lockers, replying to a few messages and clicking his tongue at some of the nonsense being spewed into the group-chat. 

He isn’t sure exactly how long he’s standing there for, but he does know precisely what pulls him back to the world outside of the device in his hands.

To begin with, he doesn’t notice you approach, lost completely in his screen. He doesn’t hear your footsteps, or the way you politely clear your throat to announce your presence so he can move out of the way. He misses your moment of realisation that he’s listening to music and has no idea that you’re standing three feet behind him. He doesn’t even see you walk up next to him, your hair still damp from your shower and sitting loose over your shoulders.

It’s only when you try to reach over him to grab the last of your things that he snaps out of his trance. The fragrance of your body wash hits him first, and oh boy, does it hit him. Sweet, and delicate. Then, he gets something beautifully fruity: it’s not a perfume (it doesn’t smell like a perfume), but it’s you. Your shampoo, maybe? A conditioner? He can’t tell. Whatever it is, the combination of fragrances has him feeling like he’s been slammed into by a damn freight train. He drops his bag to the floor, freezing for a second, and then finally moves away just as the little door swings open. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says hurriedly, tugging his hood down and pulling his headphones off completely. “I didn’t even think you were still here.” He can’t shake the smell of you, nor the feeling of your warm frame leaning so close to his own. God, why is his heart pounding like he’s just finished a round of sprints? Why can’t he breathe?

“No – hey, no, don’t be,” you rush, shaking your head. You finally succeed in pulling your coat free and start trying to get it on; Jihoon wonders if you often struggle to find your sleeves like this, if you’re always chasing them around like a puppy after its own tail. He does it too, sometimes. He gets it. It’s cute. “It’s okay. I was trying not to disturb-... I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine,” he tells you. For the first time, he’s able to smile back at you properly. 

Why is it so hot in here, all of a sudden? Do they shut off the air conditioning after hours or something? He’s breaking out in a sweat.

“Call it even?” you suggest shyly, extending out a hand now you’ve managed to get both arms through your sleeves. He looks down at your fingers for a second before reaching to shake your hand once, a semi-firm grip securing the ‘deal’. (He feels a bit like he’s been electrocuted after, but he tries not to make that too obvious).

It goes awkwardly quiet for a moment then, and Jihoon wishes deeply that he had it in him to say something. Anything. But his brain has gone completely empty and apparently, all he knows how to do is stand completely still like a fucking statue. He shifts his gaze from you, to the wall behind you, to the carpet beneath his shoes, all the while tugging at the collar of his sweatshirt as if it might bring him a tiny breath of fresh air. The gentle sound of you clearing your throat has him looking back at your face again though; he assumes for a second that this is maybe you about to announce taking your leave. All the while, he’s cursing himself out in his own head for being totally inept, and he’s not entirely sure that it isn’t written all over his face.

“Alone, today?” you ask, idly fiddling with your zipper and succeeding in taking him by surprise. He really didn’t think you were going to continue this. And yet…

“Hm?” he questions. 

You swallow before answering. “You… the last time, you were with a friend?” you explain, and now it’s your turn to look away. He wonders if you’re a little warm too, if he’s right in what he was thinking about the air-conditioning. 

“Oh. Right.” 

He nods. An annoying train of doubt in his mind wants to know why you’re asking about Seungcheol; if maybe it was him that you smiled at the other night, even though he knows your eyes weren’t looking up at the man he brought with him. He thinks maybe he should be used to these turns in conversation by now – you certainly wouldn’t be the first person to ask if one of his friends is available, after all – but somehow, he isn’t, and he has a slightly bitter taste in the back of his mouth as he goes on.

He really didn’t have ‘you being interested in one of his best friends’ on his bingo card for tonight, that’s for sure. 

“Yeah. I think he’s with his partner, or… I don’t know. I don’t really bring other people, often. That was a one-off.”

You nod silently and Jihoon can’t quite get a read on what that means. He wonders if you’re upset at the revelation of Seungcheol’s partner, or maybe that he doesn’t tag along to every session. Or maybe, maybe, you were just being polite, and you don’t really care what his friend is up to that means he isn’t here. But whatever it is that you’re feeling, you do far too good a job at hiding it; he’s suddenly very overcome with the desire to run, again, except this time he might just bury his head in the sand too for good measure.

“How much were you deadlifting, just then?” you ask in the lull, just as he thinks he might have perfected the best way to say goodbye that doesn’t make him come across as even more of a tool than he probably already has. It throws him off kilter, but somehow, he manages to answer you in reasonable time.

“Oh, God… uh, one… 160?” He says uncertainly. “That’s not… I can do heavier-...” In his mind, he slaps his forehead. “Wait, no, that’s-... I mean, it’s true, but I didn’t mean-...”

You bite back your smile as he talks himself in a circle but Jihoon is too flustered to notice, convinced that he now sounds like every arrogant gym rat on the planet. God, he’s given himself the ick.

“I guessed you could,” you say. 

Oh boy, this freezes him. Mid-thought, mid blink, mid-breath: he’s completely stuck. What does that mean? What does that mean? He only just manages to unstick his now suddenly dry tongue from the roof of his mouth, looking at you with surprised, confused eyes and parted lips. There aren’t any words on them, though. Like a deer in headlights, he just… stares.

“I mean, okay. Come on.” Your eyes visibly drop as you look him over, gaze lingering at his shoulders, his biceps, his waist. “You can get another twenty on that at least, right?”

He doesn’t know how to explain what’s happening to him, but if he thought he was burning up before? It was nothing compared to this, now. And there’s no way you haven’t noticed how everything from the base of his neck to the tips of his ears has suddenly started staining scarlet. He bows his head and pinches his lips tight, wrestling away the train of thought that appears as you drag your bottom lip between your teeth momentarily, still eyeing his arms. God, he’s never felt so overwhelmed in his life. 

“Something like that, yeah,” he strains. He’s trying so hard to be nonchalant, even though he knows all of his personal bests by heart. Deadlift, 195kg. He hit it a few weeks ago: a couple of days before he first saw you.

“Mm. You can tell.”

Jihoon tries to shake off the compliment, but he fails. In equal measure he wishes you’d stop (he doesn’t know how much more blood can rush to his cheeks before he keels over) and never wants you to stop talking. It’s all going straight to his stomach, though, and he doesn’t remember having felt this specific brand of nervous and excited and stupidly shy since he was in high school.

He can hardly keep up. This is the danger zone.

Maybe it’s a bad idea that he says the next thing that comes into his head in a desperate attempt to change the conversation away from how much he can pull. But somehow, his voice doesn’t break when he asks, “are you parked far away?”

What? It’s dark outside, and this part of town isn’t exactly known for its upstanding citizens and pretty flowerbeds.

“Oh,” you say, eyes a little wide. “I’m-... just staying close-by. I walked here.” The space between his eyebrows must crease a little too quickly because you immediately hurry to speak again. “Really. It’s like… not even ten minutes. All main streets. It’s nothing.”

“Ten minutes longer than I’d walk around here at night on my own,” he says lightheartedly. In tone, at least. He’s actually completely serious.

You laugh at that; he lets out a chuckle, too. Now, Jihoon doesn’t believe in fairies but he thinks that if they were real, they’d giggle just like you do. 

With a smile still on your face, you say, “what? A strong guy like you? Come on, now.”

Do you have to keep doing that? Fuck, he’s absolutely done for.

He tilts his head forwards, eyes closed, trying so hard to stop the muscles in his cheeks from lifting in a grin that it becomes a workout in and of itself.

“I mean it,” he says, taking what he hopes is a subtle breath to settle the fluttering in his chest. The next thing he knows, he’s leaning one shoulder against the lockers, a little reminiscent of every douchebag in every teen movie ever made. If he doesn’t think about it too much, he won’t cringe into oblivion until he gets home and replays this interaction over and over in his head instead of going to sleep. “Maybe I’ve just lived here too long. I might be jaded, but it’s still true.”

“How long is too long?” you ask.

“All my life,” he tells you.

“No way?”

“Mm.” A beat. “What about you?”

“I’m just staying with a friend, right now.”

“Oh, right.” He falls quiet again as he remembers the first time he saw you, remembers making the list in his head of all the possible reasons he hadn’t seen you before. The second was true, then.

Why does that feel like the worst possible scenario? He decides not to unpack that here.

“Maybe-...” you start, glancing down at your hands, which have been twisting in front of you for a few seconds now. Your chest inflates, filled with the words you’re about to speak, but only a breath comes out when you shake your head instead of saying them. “No, don’t worry. Scratch that.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, because he thinks that whatever you were about to suggest, there’s not much he would have said no to. He feels like it’s only fair to give you another chance to say it.

But you don’t.

“Yeah, it’s nothing.” You pause. “I… should probably get going.” He glances over your shoulder at the clock mounted on the far wall, squinting to see the time. 11:45.

“Shit. Yeah, me too,” Jihoon agrees. He didn’t realise it had gotten so late, so fast: he’s hardly ever out at this time. Lord, he already knows it’s going to be an open inquisition when he gets back to his apartment. His neighbours, Soonyoung and Seokmin, are about to have a fucking field day. 

But it’s already long past the time he usually goes to bed, so he asks his next question anyway. He still can’t shake the thought of you walking back on your own at this hour. “Do-… you need a ride?” 

He’s not sure if you actually consider it, or just wait a moment before you answer just to be polite. Either way, you end up shaking your head.

“It’s okay. I’ve-… got a call to make, so.” Your voice is a little quieter, lips tweaking up into a regretful half-smile, and Jihoon curses in his own head. How had he forgotten about that? “Thank you, though. Really.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says. “Just… get back safe.”

You smile and nod, taking a step towards the door and Jihoon does the same. He reaches the exit first and holds it open for you; when you’re both out in the street, he suppresses a shiver and looks in the direction of where he left his car earlier. Feeling the full force of the cold, it crosses his mind to ask again if you’re sure about walking home, but you’re already pulling a beanie down over your still damp hair and tapping something into your phone, so he doesn’t say anything.

“I’ll see you around, uh-…” you start to say, only looking back up when you falter, realising that this is the first time you’re about to use his name and it occurs to you both, at the same time, that you haven’t done this part, yet.

“Jihoon,” he introduces himself, lips quirking into a side-smile. His gaze is expectant and you respond to it perfectly. 

“Y/n,” you introduce yourself. 

“See you around, y/n.”

You split off in the opposite direction to where he’s heading. Before he clamps his headphones over his ears for the short walk up to his car, the last thing he hears is the retreating sound of a dial-tone. 

—————

He doesn’t see you then for two whole weeks. 

For the first couple of days, he only idly notices; it’s not a big deal — it’s not like you’re always there when he is, and he’s sure it’s the same vice versa. But he notices your absence, nonetheless. By the end of the first week, he casually wonders if you’ve had a change in schedule. Maybe you’re on a different working pattern, something that means you can’t be there on Monday and Thursday evenings and at 11:45am on Sundays. 

It’s not weird. He only knows this because prior to that first conversation, acknowledging you as you crossed paths by the free-weights became part of his routine. It’s fine that he sort of misses those little interactions, isn’t it?

Maybe you’ve decided to start training ridiculously early in the morning instead? He tried that once. Never again. It then occurs to him, in the middle of a self-enforced rest day as he sits in the dark nursing a headache, that perhaps you’re not well. He sort of wishes he’d had the guts to ask for your number the last time he saw you, now: he thinks he’d check in, see if you were okay, ask how work was going or something. 

Deep down he knows he’d probably actually just be staring at a blank text thread with a ‘casual’ message typed, tweaked a few hundred times, and ultimately unsent. But that’s fine. It’s the thought that counts. 

The next time he sees you isn’t even in the gym, at all. It’s a Sunday afternoon — he finished his morning session, went home, showered, and headed back out into town after some lunch with a few errands to run. He finds himself spoiled with the luxury of a spare few hours to kill and dips into his favourite coffee place, thrilled beyond belief to find that it’s not obnoxiously busy and that there’s only one other person in the queue waiting to be served. 

Oh, he thinks when he looks up from his phone and sees a vaguely familiar set of headphones sitting on top of a definitely familiar mane of hair, standing right in front of him. Oh, shit. It’s you.

Jihoon goes back and forth with himself over it but ultimately decides he probably doesn’t know you well enough to just say hello out in the wild like this, so even though the urge to do so strikes, he holds himself back. It’s agonising, though. He really wants to. 

You step forward to order and he’s typing out a reply to a message in his, Seokmin and Soonyoung’s three-way group chat, in which he’s literally been fighting for his life as of late. He made the mistake of mentioning you in passing a few days ago and ever since, he’s had to vehemently deny that he has developed his first gym crush, insisting that actually, he’s just made a friend. They don’t believe him, because of course they don’t. That would be far too reasonable. Seokmin says that Jihoon wouldn’t be blushing just from saying your name if you were really ‘just a friend’. Soonyoung argues Jihoon wouldn’t have mentioned you at all.

“I’m so sorry — bear with me, just-…” your voice is quiet but Jihoon hears you apologising to the cashier in front of you, and it snaps him clean away from the tiff he’s having with the men who live in his building. He glances up and you’re elbow-deep in the bag over your shoulder, red in the face with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. He turns his head slightly and sees the small hand-written sign that says the card machine isn’t working, and they’re cash only, today. 

He can hazard a guess at your predicament. 

After another few seconds of you trying to find whatever it is you’re looking for in your bag, he starts feeling bad for you. This, right here, is his own worst nightmare. Should the roles be reversed, he thinks he would’ve just turned around and walked out. It’s exactly why he doesn’t bother with backpacks and satchels day-to-day: if it doesn’t fit in his pockets, he doesn’t take it out with him. The system isn’t perfect but it has saved Jihoon a decent amount of public distress. 

But the roles aren’t reversed, and he has his wallet already in his hand, so… he only gives himself a few seconds to wonder if it’s appropriate before he does the stupid thing anyway.

“Don’t worry — I’ve got it,” he says, stepping around you, pulling out the cash to pay for your order. You’re dumbstruck when you look  at him, head tilted to the side. The person stood behind the counter glances at you, then at him, and back at you; you don’t see this, however, because your eyes haven’t left Jihoon’s face since he appeared — as far as you’re concerned — out of thin air.

“I can’t ask you to…” you start to protest, but your hands have stopped fishing around and he’s moving the cash further towards the barista, who hesitates just a second longer. 

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. I’ve got you.” He says this with such finality that you quite literally can’t argue with him. The lady behind the counter accepts the cash and you nod, shyly, mouthing a thank you. He orders his own drink — an Americano, nothing exciting — and you both go to stand at the other end of the counter while you wait.

“Hi,” you finally say, and Jihoon can’t help but give a small chuckle. 

He doesn’t have anything hugely witty or creative in his arsenal, though, so he comes back with a matching, “hey.”

“How… have you been?” you ask. 

“Can’t complain, really,” he says. “Are you okay? I haven’t seen you around for a few weeks.” Oh, God — the second the words are out of his mouth, he wishes he could take them back. Why did he have to add that last part? Why didn’t he just leave it at the question? 

“Yeah — about that,” you breathe, ducking your head to conceal the heat that’s spreading over your cheeks. “You know how I said I was staying with that friend?” He nods, and you continue. “I was waiting for some stuff to get sorted out with an apartment and it all finally got resolved, so… I’ve been moving my stuff over to a new place.”

Jihoon feels his heart sink for a moment, but he keeps his expression pleasant and engaged. His fingers threaten to give him away as they fiddle with the aglet on the drawstring of his sweatpants. 

“Sounds tiring,” he says lightly, and you laugh again, nodding. It’s odd, having his heart taking residence low in his stomach and somehow also in his throat, all while hammering away at a mile a minute. All the caffeine in the world couldn’t have this effect on him. “Is it going okay so far?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “It’s a process, but… it’ll be worth it.”

The barista behind the counter announces herself by clearing her throat and slides your drinks across the marble surface with a little glimmer in her eye. Jihoon picks them both up, extending yours out to you. There’s a pause (in which he swallows a large helping of self-doubt) as he glances to the door, working through several combinations of his next words in his mind before he looks back at you. 

“Do you… maybe have ten minutes to sit with these?” He asks. You light up immediately, not even checking the time on any of your devices, nor the wall clock behind your head. He doesn’t let himself think about why it makes him giddy that you’re accepting the offer, just like that.

“Yeah — yeah, sure.” You smile, walking through the lines of tables and sliding into one of the big, comfy chairs by the window. He unzips his jacket and slings it over the arm of the other chair before settling in himself, his long fingers wrapping around the to-go cup. The drink warms his perpetually cold palms and he sighs sweetly.

“You must be excited to get into the new place, then?” he asks after taking a sip, letting it heat him up from the inside. It could be argued that this job is already being taken care of, but Jihoon is not about to go there.

“Oh, God yes.” You nod, relaxing back in the seat with your own cup. Jihoon subconsciously leans a little forward in tandem. “It’s been fun staying with my friend, but…” You pause, lips slightly parted, before going on. “Okay, a warning: I’m a terrible person for this, I know. She’s done me a huge favour, letting me stay there — but I can’t deal with how untidy she is. It’s driving me nuts.”

A chuckle bubbles in Jihoon’s chest, cheeks starting to ache as his smile grows and grows. It hasn’t fallen since he sat down opposite you, and doesn’t seem to be going anywhere, any time soon. “That bad?” he asks.

“You have no idea,” you groan, covering your face with one hand. He wishes you hadn’t — he thinks you look quite lovely when you’re all lit up like this. “She doesn’t clean her dishes after she eats — she piles them up in the sink for like, three days. I don’t think she’s used the vacuum the entire time I’ve been there. I keep finding wrappers and packets and mismatched socks everywhere —” 

His snort of laughter rolls off the back of his throat rather ungraciously and he settles back into his chair. You gently bump his ankle under the table with your foot, beaming at him. “I’m serious! I can’t live like this, Jihoon. I can’t!”

The more you speak, the less he can control the fits he’s descended into, and his abs start to ache after a while; there’s desperation in your voice but it’s just wrapped up so cutely in your lighthearted frustration and decoratively tied together with your sunshine smile… he can’t help it — he’s in pieces. It’s okay though, because you’re laughing too: it makes him think of fairies again, and he can picture you with dainty, intricately patterned wings under the soft lighting in the café. He wipes the corner of his eye with the heel of his hand as he starts to calm down, taking a few deep breaths all the way into his stomach.

“You’re so much stronger than I am,” he says.. “I couldn’t deal with that.”

“You know, I had a feeling you’d be a clean person, too,” you say, sipping at your coffee again. “I mean… I’ve never seen you use the gym showers, so I wasn’t sure, but…”

“Hey,” he says, mock-defensively. “I don’t trust the locks, okay? I shower at home!”

Your cup is lifted to your mouth and he can only see you from the nose upwards, but by the creases at the corners of your eyes, he knows you’re concealing a smile behind it as you nod back at him.

Ten minutes turns to twenty and then somehow becomes thirty — Jihoon starts feeling like you’re someone he’s known for years, and not just the person he accidentally ended up paying attention to in the gym just a couple of weeks ago. He bounces off you and you bounce off him. Both of you have long-since finished your drinks, too: there’s no real reason for either of you to still be here.

Except the obvious. 

“So, the apartment,” Jihoon says, leaning forwards again with his elbows resting on his knees. “Is it…?” He makes a few circular gestures with his hands with which he tries to imply something to the effect of ‘local’, or ‘nearby’, but he can’t quite bring himself to say that out loud. You seem to catch on though. Somehow.

Then again, you did say — a few subject changes ago — that Jihoon is on your wavelength. Maybe that’s it.

“About… a fifteen minute walk from here? Give or take,” you say, and his eyebrows shoot up his forehead so fast it’s like they’re on strings, being controlled by someone else. He doesn’t realise for a few seconds, by which point he isn’t even sure how to relax them. 

“No way?” he says, trying to feign nothing more than an idle interest. Obviously, he’s soaring. 

“Yeah. I’ll want to get back training soon, too, so there’s some incentive to get this done quickly. I miss it,” you tell him.

Jihoon comes out with what he says next without thinking. His mouth is moving before fully engaging his brain. It’s the coffee jitters. Apparently.

“Well, if you need any help with anything, I’ve got a car.”

“You’re too sweet,” you say. “I really couldn’t put you out like that, but…”

“You wouldn’t be,” he assures you with a shrug. “If I’m not working or in the gym… I’m never really that busy. It’s up to you, but-… I’d be happy to.”

You bite the inside of your lip for a moment, apparently mulling this over, before wiggling in your seat to pull your phone out of the front pocket of your jeans. You unlock the device and hand it over on a ‘new contact’ screen. 

Jihoon goes completely stupid: he thinks his brain stops functioning as he takes it to put his number in — for a moment, he’s staring dumbstruck, struggling to even remember the order of the digits now he’s under pressure, but it comes back to him eventually. His thumbs dart across the screen and he checks, double checks and triple checks that he’s typed it right before placing it back in your waiting palm. 

His fingertips brush against yours and it tickles, sending small shockwaves up his arms and straight into his chest. You smile down at your phone before glancing up at him.

“You need an emoji,” you tell him, and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Huh?”

“Everyone in my contacts has one — I’ve been doing this since I was in high-school. You need to pick one, too.”

“Oh, uh-…” Jihoon swallows, and for some reason he’s completely forgotten every single little emoticon option there is. He draws a blank. “I can’t — you pick one for me. I don’t know.”

You narrow your eyes at him for a second, pouting your lips as you seem to scroll through the endless options. Now and again, you look up at him, as if trying to see what best fits him before you continue your search. He waits. And waits. And waits. He’s about to throw in an admittedly useless suggestion of some sort of boring animal when you turn your phone around to show him what you’ve chosen.

Jihoon, the contact name reads. And there’s the little angel face next to it.

“Oh, come on,” he says, blushing deeply. “You can’t be serious.”

“I totally am,” you say proudly, turning it back and pressing to save it. He hides his face in his hands. “If you won’t pick your own, you get what you’re given. You did this to yourself.”

“Wow,” he chuckles weakly, sliding his hands up into his hair and raking it back off his face. Your eyes move quickly across every inch and boy, does he notice. You shrug in response and test it, sending the same little emoticon to him. He blushes harder when it comes through and he saves your number into his own phone before placing it face-down on the table. 

More than an hour after buying your coffee, Jihoon stretches his arms above his head and checks the time on his watch. He frowns slightly, not sure how the afternoon got away from him so fast, and lets out a sigh.

“I think I need to get going,” he says reluctantly. Leaving you is absolutely the opposite of what he wants to do, actually. Alas, “I have some friends coming over tonight.”

“Yeah — yeah, of course,” you smile, leaning to one side to pick your bag up off the floor. “No worries.”

You both move to stand up and he throws his coat over his arm, leading the way out. He holds open the door for you to leave first, then follows you outside into the afternoon sun. 

“It was really nice to see you,” you say, turning to face him. 

“You too,” he agrees. “Text me if you need anything, okay? But actually do. Don’t just say you will?”

You laugh sweetly. Fairies. His ears might have actually caught fire this time. “Okay, okay. I promise. I’ll text you — thank you.” There’s a pause, but only a tiny one. “And for the coffee, too.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he insists, waving it off. You shake your head. He thinks your hands are twitching when you stuff them into your pockets but he can’t be sure. Your breath definitely stutters, though. 

“No, really. Um… next one’s on me?” 

He blinks, and blinks again. Next one? The next one? He feels like he’s malfunctioned and been forcibly rebooted. The next one? 

“I-…” he starts, his throat dry. “Yeah, okay. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” You nod, smiling with — what he doesn’t realise is — relief. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah — I’ll see you, y/n.”

—————

Jihoon has no choice but to admit defeat to the group chat that night when Seungcheol and Jeonghan come over for a takeout.

Within minutes, his oldest friend is asking about the girl from the gym — he’s been just as relentless as Seokmin and Soonyoung in quizzing Jihoon, except it’s slightly harder to deny to Seungcheol because he did witness, first-hand, the way you had his friend tripping over his own feet with a single smile. At first, Jihoon tries to shrug it off. Play it down. Change the subject. He doesn’t mention that he’s actually spoken to you since he and Cheol trained together, or that he accidentally bumped into you and paid for your coffee, or that you stayed talking with him for as long as you did. He definitely doesn’t say that you exchanged phone numbers. 

He absolutely won’t confess to being smitten. 

All Jihoon willingly admits to is that from what he’s seen of you around, you seem nice, and with a roll of his eyes he does agree that he thinks you’re attractive. He gets a bit of a glare later in the evening when  Jeonghan asks if he’s thought about where he wants to take you on your first date, and Jihoon tells him to stop asking stupid questions and eat his chicken before he eats it for him. But all in all he thinks he evades the worst of it pretty well. For now, anyway — he knows their pestering isn’t going away any time soon. 

Especially not when, on their way out, Seungcheol leans close and whispers that whatever is going on with his gym crush, it suits him. Jihoon jabs him on the arm and the two men leave, laughing brightly.

It’s about an hour after his friends have gone home, having washed the dishes and cleaned up his apartment that Jihoon is sitting on his living room floor doing a few lower body stretches before he turns in for the night. He finds himself tapping into your text thread — not for the first time this evening — and skimming over the short conversation you had earlier. You messaged him when you got back to your friend’s place to thank him for the third time, and Jihoon replied back telling you that if you didn’t stop being silly, he was never going to respond to you again. Your reply came in the form of a “:(“ and his was a simple “:)”. That was it, but he’s been thinking about the exchange ever since. 

He’s not sure why. Nor is he certain what about that has him looking down at the messages and grinning like a fool in his apartment, alone, at 10:30pm on a Sunday night. He could probably take a stab in the dark at what it means, though. He rubs at the back of his neck with one hand as he changes conversations and types out a short message with the other. 

jihoon: fine. you’re right. 

seokmin: ?

soonyoung: probs true, does need context

jihoon: about the gym girl. you’re right. 

soonyoung: OH

seokmin: Hahahahahaha

seokmin: Yeah, you’re definitely the last to know, dude

soonyoung: fr even chan and hansol know atp lmao 

jihoon: they what?

jihoon: how do they know?

jihoon: they don’t go to my gym! i haven’t seen them in weeks!

soonyoung: because we told them????? 

seokmin: So, we might have told everyone

jihoon: blocking both of your numbers immediately.

seokmin: Hey! We’re just glad you’ve accepted it

seokmin: When do we get to meet her?

jihoon: blocked.

Well, great, Jihoon thinks as he fights the urge to lay face down on the floor and let the laminate cool his searingly hot cheeks. 

At least he’s admitted it now. 

He’s vaguely confirmed in writing that maybe he has a bit of a thing for you — it’s out in the open and at minimum, two of his friends know that it’s real. Straight from the horse’s mouth. Fingers. Whatever. No doubt by morning, all of his friends will have found out. The point stands that he hasn’t confessed to something like this since he was approximately sixteen years old, so whatever you’re doing to him, whatever this… is, it matters. 

So, he asks himself, standing up off the hardwood floor and stretching his spine, arms locked behind him and pushed back as far as they can go. He turns off all the lights, checks the front door, goes through the motions to get himself ready for bed. So… what the fuck am I supposed to do now?

—————

Come Monday evening, he’s about ready to hit the roof.

As far as bad days go, Jihoon thinks he’s in the running for one of the worst ever. He slept awfully, tossing and turning through the night despite the usual winning combination of freshly washed bed sheets and his white noise machine drowning out the occasional disturbance from the street below. He wakes up two minutes before his alarm is due to go off, only to discover he fell asleep before plugging his phone in to charge overnight, and it’s sitting at a very risky 13%. The gel he uses to keep his hair off his face at work has gone weird and only does half a job, strands tumbling back in front of his eyes the second he goes to leave his apartment, very nearly forgetting his keys. Then, to really put the cherry on top, he sees that — at some point between getting home yesterday and now — someone has scraped his car while parking up next to him. There’s a large scratch right down the passenger side, with no note nor reliable CCTV in his apartment’s parking lot to confirm who it was, and of course, the space is currently empty. 

All this before he even gets to work.

He fundamentally knows that starting the week off with a bad attitude will only lead to a really shitty remainder, but when Vernon sends his routine ‘Monday Motivation’ booster message — “you’re going to have a great day, today!” — into the group chat, Jihoon responds with a crude photo of his middle finger, right in front of the massive scuff on the bodywork of his Hyundai. Jeonghan replies with an ‘oof’, Wonwoo with a ‘yikes’, and Joshua, ever the comedian, sends a picture of Garfield lying face-down captioned ‘Mondays’ that nobody replies to. All responses feel kind of appropriate. But he pockets his phone without sending anything else, sighing again; he locks the car and checks the handle just in case before he finally heads into the building.

It’s going to be a long day. He just has to get through it.

Things don’t necessarily improve. He ends up in and out of meetings all day, so when 5 o’clock rolls around and he’s on his way out the door, he’s feeling a bit like he’s done nothing of actual value. Just, for some reason, thinking about you and tapping out a catchy beat on the top of his desk as he pretends to pay attention to useless presentation after useless presentation. But it’s still somehow been exhausting on his brain and on the drive back to his apartment, Jihoon feels so drained that he contemplates skipping the gym altogether and going straight to bed. This internal argument takes up most of his journey, but it does keep him occupied during the rush-hour traffic if it does nothing else. 

Nothing has ever been fixed by ruining a perfectly good routine, however — so no sooner than he’s back in his apartment, he changes out of his button-down and trousers and into his regular gym gear. His protein shaker is ready on the counter for when he’s home again, the lights are off, his bag is on his shoulder and the door is locked. He pushes against it a few times, checking out of habit, despite the fact that his only neighbours on this floor are Soonyoung, Seokmin and an elderly couple with a cat they’re not technically supposed to have. Nobody tells, though, because Boots has become everyone’s emotional support animal. The only actual security threat is Seokmin maybe stealing something from his fridge, but he’s only ever satisfied after the third test anyway. 

A quick warmup and a few easy stretches later, Jihoon sets about his business. Mondays are for training legs (and often, as a result, incapacitating himself for the rest of the week), and these workouts are always some of his most intense.

So intense, in fact, that he’s sweating buckets and cherry red when he steps away from the squat rack, tugging up the hem of his t-shirt to dry his face, a brief flash of his toned abdomen on full view. He’s just about catching his breath when he glances in the mirror, and his knees nearly give out when he sees you walking in. You lock eyes and smile at him in the reflection as you start to walk towards him.

It’s not just any smile, but he’s way too flustered to notice.

He spins around to face you, mortally embarrassed that you definitely just saw that, but in a weird way… kind of elated? You drop your headphones to sit around the back of your neck to greet him as you get closer. He pushes his hair back off his forehead and tries to act as cool as he can, but Jihoon suddenly becomes incredibly aware of everything about himself in this moment: his posture, how his arms hang by his sides, the exact positioning of his feet. The fact that he’s breathing pretty deeply, that his pulse is so loud in his ears that he can see your lips moving but can’t quite hear what you’re saying.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit — you’re talking. Focus. He needs to focus. 

“Sorry — what was that?” he asks, eliciting a soft laugh from you.

“I like your shirt,” you repeat, a fraction clearer. Jihoon glances down at himself, at the same sweatpants and tight black workout top he wears in here several times a week, and looks back at you with a raised eyebrow. God, he lets himself think for half a second, entertaining his own stupidity with the idea that you’re finding this as hard as he is, too. Maybe I’m not alone in this. 

“Oh?” he says. “Um — thank you?”

“How’d it go with your friends last night?” you ask, hardly skipping a beat, and he’s a little thankful that you skim over his poor attempt at gratitude for a compliment he isn’t sure he deserves. Instead, his confusion wraps itself around the fact that you actually remembered what he was doing last night. Hell, even he’d forgotten in the heat of the day he’d had, but you remembered. He’s sweating over it a little and briefly wonders what the chances are of the gym floor opening up and swallowing him whole.

Slim, he decides. But not zero. 

There’s hope.

“Yeah — yeah, it was nice,” he says, internally kicking himself for overthinking this so much that he’s apparently lost his ability to speak. In the space of 24 hours, he’s gone from giggling over coffee with you to completely weak just at the sound of your voice. It should be easier here, if anything — this is home turf for him. His comfort space. He supposes the tight fit of your gym clothes accentuating your hips and thighs isn’t helping matters, and neither is the wide neckline of your own t-shirt exposing your throat and a collarbone. But still. He’s not a teenager. He should be able to handle a little bit of skin. 

He clears his throat, rolling his head side-to-side. Focus. “Sorry — I’m-… I just didn’t expect to see you back here so soon.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “I-… couldn’t stay away. Missed it a little too much.”

“I get that,” he concurs, willing his eyes not to drop down your frame to a newly exposed area of skin just around your waist, your t-shirt riding up as you adjust your bag on your shoulder. “It’s good to-… have you back, anyway.”

“Good to be back,” you agree. “Hey — can you leave that set up for me, when you’re done? I’m on legs today, too.”

Jihoon doesn’t want to say that he knows Mondays are your leg days, as well, so he doesn’t. Even if it is true. He wonders if you would find it odd that he’s remembered. “Sure,” he says with a small smile, which you return. Just as you’re about to walk off to drop your things into a locker, he pipes up again. “I mean — hey, if you wanted a spot, or to-… do, you know… anything…”

“Are you asking me to train with you?” you ask, eyes bright and smile wider than he thinks he’s ever seen it. This is torture. He’s not even lifting anything and his heart is about to burst out of his fucking chest — God, maybe this was a bad suggestion.

“I-…” he starts, but he lets the breath out of his lungs and shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah. I am.”

“Give me two minutes,” you agree, hurrying off to put your stuff away and fill up your bottle.

He manages to squeeze another set of squats in before you get back, which is sort of a miracle seeing as how his knees have gone completely weak ever since you arrived. He’s scrolling through his playlist as you cross the gym floor on your way back to him, but he looks up and smiles as you approach. 

“You go ahead — I’ve just finished.”

He knows he’s really fucking done for when, after the first round, you add plates onto the bar to out-lift him. All before he’s even positioned himself behind you to be a good spotter.

Jihoon doesn’t go down without a fight though, and things get a little competitive from there. Both of you throw some of your favourite (see: most agonising) exercises into the mix over the course of the hour, taking it in turns on the equipment and creating a session that just about has him able to move by the time you’re finished. You talk to each other when you’ve got the breath to do so, otherwise focussing on your workout with more intensity than either of you remember training with for a long time. 

And so what if he has to turn away from you once or twice to compose himself when breathless whines spill from between your lips on your last few reps, the sheer effort of the movements pushing your muscles to their absolute limit? So what if he feels his entire body run a thousand degrees every time you sweetly encourage him to manage just one more? So what if his palm stays tingling for fifteen seconds every time you high-five him for a set well done?

You slide out of the hamstring curl machine with a deep breath and legs like two sticks of jelly at the end of the session, and he holds a hand out to steady you as you regain your ability to weight-bear.

“You okay?” he asks, and you nod, patting what’s exposed of your chest and neck with your towel. 

“Yeah. Yeah — just… fuck.” You laugh, laying your hand over the top of his and squeezing. Only for a second — not even, only for a breath — and really just to let him know that you’re okay to stand on your own, but Jihoon feels a bit like he’s been electrocuted straight up his arm all the same. “You don’t come to play, do you?”

“Says you,” he scoffs, only now moving his hand from your upper arm. “I was wrong about you — you’re insane. Clinically insane.” 

Using the paper towels he went to gather while you were finishing up, he wipes the machine clean as you stretch out your now slightly exercise-swollen thighs. 

“I was just gonna finish up on one of the stairmasters,” you tell him, taking a long sip of your water. His eyes widen to the point of comedy, eyebrows high on his forehead. You snicker at his horror, the rim of your bottle hovering tantalisingly over your bottom lip. “What?”

“That’s-… got to be a form of masochism,” he says, exhausted just at the idea of marching up the never ending staircase even for a minute. You almost choke on your mouthful of water, only just swallowing it in time before a sudden, uncontrollable laugh erupts from your chest. 

“How?!” you ask, covering your mouth with your hand. Just like yesterday, the urge to pull your arm away, to reveal your hidden smile strikes him. He doesn’t act on it, but he wants to.

“What do you mean, how? Why would you put yourself through that after what you’ve just done?” It’s completely lighthearted, and the rush of heat on your cheeks intensifies at the cocktail of shock and awe in his gaze.

You shrug your shoulders once. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just better than you.” The way the tip of your tongue teasingly sits between your teeth as you grin at him sends bullets of adrenaline through his veins and Jihoon runs his hand over his face.

For about three seconds, he tells himself he isn’t going to take the bait. He’ll lose, he’ll admit it — he’ll put his hands up and say you’re absolutely, definitely better than he is, if it means he doesn’t have to push through a round of cardio after surpassing every single one of his physical limits. But God, he thinks you look completely irresistible standing there challenging him like this, your hands on your hips. His eyes don’t leave yours and yours don’t leave his; both of your chests stutter, just a little bit, and he can see your smile grow in his periphery.

How the fuck is he supposed to walk away?

“Ten minutes,” he concedes, matching your footsteps as you start to walk backwards towards his least favourite line of equipment in any gym, ever. “And you’re definitely getting the next coffee, now.”

——————

That Friday, you finally text him again.

His muscles have just about returned to a working state and Jihoon is quite proud to say that he has regained the ability to sit down without needing something to hold onto. He got home from work, showered the day away and has just settled down into the sofa to start on the book Wonwoo has been on his ass about reading when his phone vibrates on the side table. He reaches over for it, trying to figure out which of his friends might be trying to get hold of him early evening on a Friday, and already going over excuses in his head as to why he can’t go out to do whatever they’re inviting him to. But when your contact name flashes up on the screen, every single thought disappears from his brain.

y/n: hey :)

y/n: just out of interest, how good are you at assembling furniture?

He furrows his brows at this. There’s a very obvious answer, which is that he’s not. He doesn’t want to reply saying so, though, so he goes for what he thinks is the next best thing.

jh: well…

jh: what are you trying to put together?

y/n: a bed :(

y/n: today’s your rest day, right?

y/n: can i bribe you with dinner after? :)

Oh? His brain stalls, fingers hovering over the keypad. He can literally see your face forming a little pout before growing into a hopeful grin in his mind’s eye. He doesn’t see how he could ever say no. 

jh: apparently yes, you can.

jh: text me the address? i’ll leave in 5.

He changes out of his basketball shorts and hoodie in record time, abandoning Wonwoo’s book on his couch in favour of attempting to look at least somewhat presentable for you. He tugs on a pair of jeans that he hasn’t touched in about 6 months and one of his nicer t-shirts instead, even going as far as to spritz aftershave on the column of his throat. You’ve sent him your address and he makes to leave, doing his regular essential item pat-down on his way out the door. He puts your new apartment into his phone as he crosses the parking lot, stupidly delighted to discover it’s only 7 and a half minutes away from where he lives, and settles into his car with a series of deep exhales.

The breathing exercises don’t achieve much. His head is still spinning when he parks up in the street by your new place and lingers just outside the building. He sends you a text to say he’s arrived and you reply saying you’re on your way down. You appear in the lobby just a few minutes later.

“Hey,” you greet him warmly, crossing the space and putting your arms around him in a hug. He goes limp for a fraction of a second before his arms slide around you, too. God, he hopes you can’t feel his heartbeat right now. He thinks that the effect you have on him should be considered dangerous. But whether you can or not, you tighten your arms to squeeze him once before you unwind them from around his neck and step away. 

“Hi,” he says, feverish from the tops of his ears all the way down to his toes. His hands find his pockets as you take a few more polite steps back.

“Thank you so much for this.” Your bottom lip finds temporary home between your teeth before you’re nodding back towards the stairwell. “I’m on the third floor. Follow me.”

He does. He walks up the stairs behind you as you ask about his day at work, and he tells you that he thinks today has probably been one of the best he’s had in about 2 months. When he asks how your day went, you turn your head back to look at him and stumble on the next step, gently laughing and saying that you think you’re at your tether’s end with D.I.Y, but it’s been pretty good otherwise. By the time you reach your floor, his thighs are aching, a bit of residual fatigue from your session earlier in the week making it a little harder than it ought to be. He can’t imagine how you’ve coped every day since then; if his own building didn’t have an elevator, Jihoon thinks he’d have been sleeping in his car.

You give him a little tour of the apartment, and he stands next to you at the window as you point out where you were staying with your friend a few blocks away. He thinks the view is seriously pretty in the evening light, enchanted by how he can see the tops of the slightly lower buildings and the street below, lined with neon storefronts and currently alive with shoppers and bar-goers, but… He cringes at himself for thinking it, but the view through the glass is nothing compared to the one he has inside. 

You’ve started to put up a few decorations and knick-knacks around the place too. He doesn’t know you very well, but he still thinks it’s very you — all of it, and he likes them. Even with the room full of boxes and half-unpacked cases, there’s so much personality in it already. Charm. He brushes off your attempts to apologise for the ‘mess’, as you called it, despite everything being neatly pushed out of the way of the main space. It’s easily tidier than any other mid-move apartment he’s ever been in. 

“Did you want a drink?” you ask him, walking over to the refrigerator and resting a hand on the door. “I’ve got wine, or-… anything, really.” 

“Just some water would be great,” he says appreciatively, and a few seconds later you’re handing him a bottle, turning another one over in your hand. “I really wouldn’t be much help after a couple of glasses, trust me.”

“Does this mean you are good at it, then? Before a drink?” you ask him. Is it hope in your voice? Or do you somehow know how hopeless he is, and are you teasing? He can’t tell. Regardless, clearly his evasion earlier wasn’t quite as successful as he hoped it would be.

“About that…” He chuckles, taking a sip from the bottle and glancing sideways at you. “I’m sure between the two of us, we’ll figure it out.”

“My knight in shining armour,” you say with a laugh, closing your fingers around his wrist and leading him through the door to your bedroom. You’ve managed to separate all of the individual pieces, but you haven’t made any real progress otherwise. He settles himself down on the floor and reaches for the assembly manual, pursing his lips as he looks at the little baggies of screws and bolts and various other things he doesn’t know the names of.

“Okay.” He frowns, looking back up at you where you’ve kneeled down a couple of feet away. You’re grinning innocently back at him, but Jihoon’s lips are more aligned with a pout. “You maybe should have mentioned that the instructions are in Swedish.”

——-

Ignoring the fact that you can’t understand the directions printed on the flimsy little pieces of paper, you get to work. It’s… an interesting process, but somehow between the pair of you, you successfully manage to assemble the bed in just under two hours by mostly following the diagrams (and having to backtrack several times because Jihoon managed to miss a few steps). At three minutes to nine, you’re both finally standing up off the floor, stretching out stiff joints and tight muscles; the bed is fully assembled and made up with your sheets in the centre of the room, headboard against the back wall, the lamp you set on the dresser casting a pleasant orangey glow on every surface.

“We did it,” you say, a little in shock, a lot exhausted, and absolutely starving. At least, that’s what he assumes you’re feeling, because it’s what he is. “We actually did it.”

“I mean, you did most of it,” Jihoon says. It’s true; at a point, he was just handing you the pieces you asked him for and holding parts steady so that you could fit them together. But if you want to call it a joint effort, he isn’t going to stop you, and the roll of your eyes tells him that you do want to call it that. 

“Shh. You helped,” you scold him, bumping his upper arm with your elbow. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“If you say so,” he chuckles, taking another sip of his water. Jihoon isn’t sure he believes you, but the way you’re challenging him to argue further with your tongue pressed against the inside of your cheek scrambles his brain. Any remaining argument dies on his lips. “We make a good team.”

“We do,” you agree, expression shifting into a shy smile, bumping his arm again, your elbow lingering against him for a second longer. “Come on, I think I promised to feed you, too. What are you in the mood for?”

A movie has been playing in the background for about an hour by the time your food arrives and you’ve eaten everything. Jihoon relaxes back against the cushions of the couch and you’re settled comfortably next to him: there’s plenty of space on either side of you both, so there isn’t really any need for you to have your upper arm basically pressing against his, but Jihoon is too comfortable to say anything and you certainly aren’t making any attempts to move away. You shift your legs after about ninety minutes, bringing them up underneath you so your thigh is pressed against his now, as well, and you’re twisted slightly so you’re physically facing him but your head is still turned towards the TV.

Everywhere your clothed body touches him is scorching, and he wonders if maybe he should’ve worn a thinner t-shirt, or at the very least something a little less heavy on his legs. His jeans, slightly tighter around the thighs than perhaps would be their peak level of comfort, are clinging to him everywhere and he’s so aware of himself, so aware of you, of your sweet body wash, your fruity shampoo, every single one of your breaths… He’s cursed people out for breathing too loudly around him before, but he thinks he could replace his white noise machine with an eight hour track of just this and he would sleep like a fucking baby.

One of your elbows is propped against the top of the cushions behind you and you’re resting your head in your palm, and (not for the first time this evening) he glances sideways to look at you. They’ve been fleeting glances thus far, only stealing fractions of a moment before he turns his attention back to the TV. But this? This is the wrong moment. Entirely the wrong fucking moment because as his head turns, so does yours, and you catch him in the act. Fuck, if he thought he was burning up, before? He’s pretty sure he’s somehow just descended straight to the second circle of hell, greeting all the other lusty sinners like old friends. Several of his thoughts tonight have been considerably impure, and in this half second of blistering eye contact, they all come rushing back.

The universe is really testing him this evening, and Jihoon is stumbling. It feels like any minute now, he’s going to explode.

He straightens his spine and looks back at the TV, trying to force his eyes to focus even though he’s completely swallowed by the feeling of your arm straightening across the back of the couch, your fingertips grazing over the skin at the bottom of his hairline. He can feel your eyes still on him, your gaze burning into his cheek, no doubt following as his tongue darts out subconsciously over his lips. But he can’t quite help himself, can’t get the image of how sweet you looked out of his head; he clears his throat quietly and looks over at you again, coming over almost completely blank the second he notices the glimmer your eyes hold when they’re trained on him. 

Any. Fucking. Minute. 

“Jihoon, I-…” you start to say, and he turns himself a little bit so that he’s facing you better, completely forgetting about the movie now. That’s not a great loss: he couldn’t explain the plot even if he tried. “I don’t know if-… you can tell me if I’ve read you wrong…”

“You haven’t,” he hurries. Relief starts to ease the tension between your brows, before you scrunch them again and cock your head to the side. “I’m sure you haven’t, I mean.”

In this new position, one of his legs is bent and sitting up on the couch beneath him and you’ve adjusted your own posture to accommodate. Your knee sits just over the top of his, more of your impossible body heat radiating through his clothes, and he glances down at the site of contact before he looks back at you. 

“I just-... I don’t know, I think I knew I was interested in you from the first time I saw you, but the last few weeks especially…” You’ve been rehearsing this. He can feel it. It’s written in your eyes, holding the weight of the words you’re struggling to say, and behind them he can see cogs turning as you try to get the words in the right order. (He knows how that goes, because he’s been trying to figure out how to tell you, too.) He nods, urging you to keep going.

“I can’t get you out of my head. I really like you.”

He short-circuits, then. Even though part of him knew what you were going to say, hearing it out loud flips a switch inside him and he stops functioning. Blinking at you slowly, lips parted, heart racing – he feels as if his brain has been sucked clean out of his ears and is floating somewhere way above his head. Way outside of a contactable range, way beyond any level of rational decision-making. Jihoon knows what he wants to say, of course – he knows that he wants to say that he likes you, and that he has for a while, and that maybe you should let him take you out on a date or something, but all of that sits just behind the barrier of his teeth, so…

He leans forward and kisses you, instead.

He almost can’t believe that he’s only wanted this for as short of a time as he has; it feels like it’s been building inside him for so much longer. Relief floods through his veins, the emotional dam finally breaching. It only lasts a few seconds, but with his lips pressed to yours and yours pressing back, the static in his brain goes quiet, the movie falls silent: everything stops, except you. He thinks you could’ve been carved from stone around each other — he thinks something just feels so inexplicably right. Your hand tightens in his hair and he gasps softly as he pulls an inch back, eyes heavily lidded and looking straight at you through his lashes. You move forward, leaning your forehead against his, and the feather-light hold he has on your chin slides up to your cheek instead. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how to-…” he says after a long, long moment of remembering how to breathe, how to blink, how to exist in your space without combusting on the spot. He still isn’t sure he knows how to do any of those things, especially not now he can see every single line of your face this close. He’s trying, though. “But — shit, I’m crazy about you.”

You kiss him, then, harder than before, colliding in a mess of half-finished breaths and bumped, stinging noses. His other hand comes up to sit against your rib cage, yours pressing into the material of his t-shirt over his chest. He smiles and parts his lips as yours move against them, your tongue gently sweeping into his mouth, finding his own; a soft, low moan tickles the back of his throat, his fingertips curling slightly to tighten his hold. 

Jihoon isn’t sure how you end up on your knees, straddled astride his legs with one of his hands tucked between your thigh and calf, the other on the curve of your ass — he just knows that he doesn’t mind one bit. You’re warm and comfortable, the arch of your back pressing you into him deliciously. He’s kissing you like his life depends on it (he really fears that it might), and you’re doing the same back, licking against his tongue and rocking slightly with every separation and reconnection of your lips. He feels your fingers brush at the hem of his t-shirt and slip just underneath at the same moment as you pull away from him, and he’s so dazed, so fuzzy, so lost in you that he can only tilt his head back to stare up at your face. In your current position, you’re towering over him. It’s easily the best view he’s ever had.

“Can I-…?” you ask breathlessly. The new roughness to your voice goes straight to his cock and he has to restrain himself from bucking his hips upwards.

“Yeah,” he says, leaning forward slightly to try and aid you. Your hands tug at the bottom of his shirt and peel it up over his chest: he raises his arms slightly and soon, you can toss it to the unoccupied side of the couch. He shivers slightly as he relaxes back, both at the chill in your unheated apartment and upon noticing the way you’re staring down at him. It’s addictive. 

“Oh my God,” you whisper, jaw a little slack, smoothing your hands over his shoulders to feel every ridge of hard-earned muscle. You travel down his arms, over to his chest, down his stomach… Jihoon sucks in a breath, your warm hands absolutely searing against his skin, and his abdominals tighten beneath them. Tilting your head, you press a line of kisses down the side of his neck, your lips brushing against one almost unbearably sensitive spot when you continue. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

He smiles bashfully, rolling his head to the side and giving you all the access you want. Your lips tickle euphorically against him as he tugs you flush against his chest, both his hands now tightly pressing against your ass, fingers kneading the muscle concealed by your pants. You’re sitting right over his clothed cock and he’s reasonably sure he can feel your pulse between your thighs, letting out a soft grunt when you roll your hips deliberately down into his own. Your kisses travel to the swell at the curve of his shoulder before moving back up to his lips, where he meets you with a fire that he’s never kissed anyone with, before.

“Says you,” he murmurs into your mouth, your teeth clashing, his hips pushing slightly up off the couch. Just enough to make you sit back from him, just enough for Jihoon to open his eyes and look at you. His hair, thoroughly scrunched up and pulled around by your desperately gripping fingers, fans out at all sorts of angles and his chest has taken on a rosy hue since you last looked at it. With swollen, shiny lips, glossy eyes, breathing deep, he looks completely blissed out, like a man who could unravel beneath you if you moved just right. All from a little tongue action. He’d usually feel embarrassed, but it’s hard to when you’re the person on top of him; to be honest, neither of you would mind much if he did.

You’re pushing yourself up and off him before he can really get his bearings and an audible whine of despair parts his lips at the loss of your weight against his cock. Fuck, these jeans were a bad idea: he’s straining against the denim so much that it hurts, and there’s a near perfect outline of his hard-on. He stops pouting the second you take hold of his hand and tug him upright, though, your eyes dark and determined and intense. He thinks he might faint, actually: from standing too fast and feeling as though all the blood in his body is pulsing through his aching dick, he has to take a moment to stop the edges of his vision going dark before you’re pulling him through to your bedroom.

Something flips inside him the second you have him there. Jihoon, who was more than happy to sit beneath you and let you take all the control in the living room, is pushing you back onto the mattress by your shoulder and slotting himself between your parted thighs the moment the door is closed behind him. He’s past the point of wanting you, now: he needs you, and he needs you to need him, too. 

And God, do you. You prop yourself up on one elbow, staring at where he’s now leaning over you with wide eyes and your bottom lip drawn between your teeth. He bends down and kisses along your jawline in response, nipping gently just below your ear. Your back arches up and in a flash, one of his hands is beneath you, snapping open the clasp on your bra with a few slides of his fingers.

“Wh-…” you start, giggling and panting at the same time. He smirks against your pulse point. 

He flattens his tongue against you and licks a salty bead of sweat off your skin. “What?”

“Had no idea you could-…” You’re cut off by a gasp as one of his hands slides under your sweater, slipping beneath the garment he just unfastened. His fingertips graze over your breast and a pleading sob escapes you. His smile grows even wider. “You were so…”

“So what?” he prompts, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Another one of those beautiful sounds breaks the air above you. He does it again, massaging your breast with the palm of his hand. “Come on… talk to me.”

“So good,” you gasp, lying down flat and tilting your head back against the pillows. He rocks forwards to press his cock against you again and your thighs tighten around his hips, one leg hooking around his to keep him there. “So-… fucking good.”

You’re so impossibly irresistible to him, especially like this, and he sits up, settling on his knees to look down at you. Jihoon doesn’t even get the chance to move his hands towards the hem of your sweater to tug it off you though: you’re already grabbing it yourself, crossing your arms to pull it over the top of your head. He can see your bra now, and hell, it’s pretty even if it is just hanging off you. Baby pink and lacy. He thumbs over the material as he helps you pull it down your arms, briefly letting himself wonder if-…

“If only you’d been patient enough to see the set together.”

Oh, so you can read his mind now, too? 

You glance down to the small space between your bodies and his eyes follow, lips slightly parted, a heavy sigh on his breath. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck — he wishes he had. Even imagining it, he’s throbbing.

“You wear all this for me?” he asks, hands creeping up the insides of your thighs. You nod up at him and he smiles down at you. “Fuck. I bet you didn’t even need my help tonight at all, did you?”

You’re bucking your hips now as his thumb brushes, agonisingly slowly, over your clothed cunt. One arm has come up to cover your face: for the first time, he acts on his impulsive need to see you shy, see you needy, and leans over you to gently pull it away and pins your wrist down against the mattress. He kisses you, his fingers on the other hand pressing slightly more firmly to where he’s pretty sure your clit is.

“Y/n, you’re so pretty. Let me see you.”

“I didn’t,” you admit, voice wobbling as he works you up so much you’re actually soaking through not just your pretty underwear, but the leggings you’ve had on all night, too. He can feel it against the pad of his thumb and he raises his eyebrows for you to continue. “Just… really wanted you to come over…”

“Mhm. I know,” he soothes, bending low again and kissing down towards your chest. His lips purse over one of your nipples and he sucks it up into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the bud. He releases your wrist with the hand currently taking most of his weight and leans on his elbow, teasing your other tit with his fingers. The weight of it in his palm has him murmuring soft praises against your skin, telling you over and over how good you feel. You push up onto your elbows to try and press him closer — when his teeth tug just slightly, you’re about ready to beg.

“Jihoon, please,” you murmur. He short-circuits, again. Goes blank. His name has always sounded so much sweeter on your tongue, but this? This? Oh, he doesn’t know if he’s ever going to recover. That sound is going to stick in his head for days, months, forever, if he has anything to say about it. But even if his brain isn’t working, his body moves on autopilot: he sits up and hooks his fingers under your waistband, pulling your pants down your legs and discarding them onto the floor. 

He’s staring between your thighs with zero functioning brain cells and literal galaxies in his eyes, trying to figure out what cosmic miracle brought someone like you into his life, how on Earth he’s ended up between your thighs. The question is so overwhelming in his mind that he barely notices that you’re moving, at first. Jihoon doesn’t know what causes you to try and bring your thighs together — if it’s shyness or arousal, desperation, a search for friction? — but he stops you as soon as he realises, laying a hand on each of your legs, pinning your knees down now, instead.

“Keep your legs wide for me?” he asks, to which you punctuate a nod with an assenting hum. “Good girl.” 

You’re so wet that when he strokes two fingers over your covered pussy, pressing the fabric of your panties into your heat, they come away thinly coated in the arousal that’s seeped through them. He brings his fingers to his lips then, eyes fluttering as he licks your slick off them. You taste otherworldly and he doesn’t hesitate to tell you so with a groan.

“God,” he murmurs, tugging at the waistband of your panties with his other hand. His eyes ask if you’re ready — if you���re sure, and when you nod down at him, he pulls them off completely too. His middle finger slips between your folds, collecting the wetness dribbling out of you, and he drags it slowly upwards towards your clit. He repositions himself again, leaning down over you with his head at your neck, the heel of his hand resting against your lower abdomen. He draws small circles over the bud, laying open-mouthed kisses at your collarbone and listening to the gorgeous sounds you make, learning what you like, following each gasp and moan and chasing as many of them as he can draw out of you.   

At the same time as you start rocking your hips up to meet his hand, your nails scratching gently against his scalp again, Jihoon slips his finger down from your swollen clit to press it inside you. You gasp, high-pitched and needy, your cunt spasming around his finger and pulling it in deeper. He’s only in up to his second knuckle but the way you keen for him has him pushing further until it’s buried inside your pussy completely. 

“S’this okay?” he asks, but he knows your answer thanks to your vocal responses to him already slowly easing his finger in and out, in and out. You nod your head almost aggressively as he glances up at your face, your eyes squeezed tightly shut, jaw tense, throat bobbing as you swallow hard. 

“More — please,” you say not long after. A breath hitches in your throat when he does exactly what you ask, pressing the heel of his hand against your clit and positioning another finger at your entrance. He flexes his wrist slightly to get comfortable, pumping both fingers into you now, and he curls them upwards at just the right time to make your back arch off the bed. “Fuck — mhm, just like that—…”

He moves down your body slightly, reattaching his lips to one of your nipples as he fingers you deep and slow. He’s in no rush: Jihoon thinks he could do this all day and just deal with the RSI later on. You look so unbelievably hot with your face scrunched in pleasure, your thighs quivering as you fight to keep them apart like he asked you to, with your hips twisting down against his hand to try and get his fingers deeper and faster. When he lowers himself all the way down, settling completely between your thighs, he flicks his tongue out over your clit and your back arches up off the bed with a gasp.

“Don’t stop,” you whine, all high-pitched and rushed, both syllables merging into one hurried sound. “Fuck, fuck — please, don’t stop.”

“I’m not going to,” he murmurs, keeping pace and rhythm as he works you towards your high. God, he thinks there couldn’t possibly be anything in the world more sexy than watching you come undone from this angle. Your chest rising and falling in stuttered breaths, your hips rocking down against his hand, your pussy right on his mouth. Just the thought of it has his cock jumping in his boxers. “You gonna come for me, huh?”

“I-…” you start, releasing your death-grip on the bedsheets to bring a hand to cover your face. He clears his throat deliberately — perhaps it’s sort of closer to a growl than a cough — and he thinks maybe you really can read his mind, or maybe you’re learning that he wants to see every inch of you (especially like this), because a second later, it’s tangled up in his hair and holding him in place. “Y-yeah, fuck, I…”

“Good girl,” he coos again, and that breaks you. Your pussy tightens around his fingers and you feel yourself convulse, muscles clenching and releasing as you go over the edge with a cry. He eases you through your climax, tongue laving over your clit, fingers slowing but not stopping inside your cunt until your thighs close around his head in your oversensitivity. He takes the hint, then, and he slowly pulls away, sucking his fingers clean of your arousal while you take a few breaths to recover.

“Oh, my God,” you sigh as he moves back up and starts pressing small pecks over your chest and collarbones, your fingers lacing through his hair again to pull him up to kiss you. You groan softly at the taste of yourself on his lips, and can’t blame you. He still isn’t over it, either.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he tells you in-between kisses, one hand supporting the back of your neck to keep you close. “So pretty. So sweet. So good.”

“Shh,” you giggle, but he doesn’t. Just about every adoring adjective Jihoon has in his arsenal is murmured against your lips until you’ve gathered enough strength to get up on your knees and push him back onto the mattress, fumbling with the button of his jeans. 

He groans at the relief as you tug them down over his hips and thighs. “We don’t have to do anything else if you’re—”

“Shh.” This one’s a little more insistent, and he makes a show of clamping his lips back together. “You wore the tightest jeans on the planet, had your cock on-fucking-display for me all evening, and you think I wanna stop now?”

His jaw falls slack at the words that come out of your mouth. The incredulous way with which you say them has him involuntarily bucking up into nothing. Your expression matches his when you finally get his jeans all the way off and his thin, black boxer-briefs are the only barrier between you. The outline of his cock strains against them, tenting the fabric: Jihoon doesn’t miss the way you lick over your lips before glancing up at him through your eyelashes. It’s your turn to give him the look, now, asking that this last part is okay, with your fingertips hooked underneath the elastic waistband. He nods feverishly up at your heavy gaze.

“Please,” he groans, lifting his hips so you can pull them off. His length springs free the moment they’re pulled low enough, slapping back against his abdomen, sitting pretty against his toned muscles, thick and veiny and red-tipped. Desperate. His underwear joins the pile of clothes down the side of the bed as you throw one leg over him; sitting across his thighs, you take his cock into your hand, giving it a few gentle strokes. He fucks up into your palm when you squeeze your fingers around it.

“I need you so fucking bad,” you murmur, head spinning, and Jihoon isn’t in much of a better state himself; he’s fighting to keep his eyes open, fighting to keep his breaths coming. He sits upright, one arm behind him for support, and kisses you hard as you continue to tug at his length. 

“Need you, too,” he breathes, shifting so he has both arms around you. In a swift movement, muscles rippling, he lifts you off him and turns you over so he has you sitting on your now impossibly scrunched comforter.

He finds home back between your legs as you reach over into the drawer at your bedside and fumble around for a few seconds. He hears a little clatter and a rustling and when your hand resurfaces, you’ve pulled free a small foil square. You don’t even give him a chance to lean forward and take it; you’re ripping it open and looking up at him with the biggest doe-eyed stare he thinks he’s ever seen. He nods at the silent question, a grunt tumbling free as you roll the condom down his length. This is the most pathetic little bit of contact and he’s fighting demons.

“Okay?” he asks, shuffling back a little and giving you space to lie down flat on your back. You nod up at him, already wrapping your arms around his shoulders. 

“Mhm, just-... take it slow?” you ask him, anticipation rendering you already a little breathless. “S’been a while.” 

A grin blooms all the way from his lips to his eyes and he leans down to kiss you again, positioning his tip at your hole and pressing forward just enough to tease.

Your thighs tighten around his hips and he pushes himself further inside you with a stuttered groan, agonisingly slowly, inch by inch. He stills every few seconds, both to give you the time to adjust and so that he can take a steadying few breaths and not collapse at how good you feel wrapped around him; he stops pressing his hips forward before he’s fully sheathed inside your pussy and you let a whine slip, the stretch slowly easing. 

“You can move,” you tell him, laying a kiss to his chest. “I’m okay.” 

Jihoon gives a soft laugh. Oh, he wishes this was just to be polite, but no. He’s in real danger of losing control any second. “Yeah, this isn’t for you, baby.”

“Oh?” you ask. You clamp around him and he gasps at the tightness, hips jerking forward until he’s buried up to the hilt. Fuck, there’s a bruised cervix if you’ve ever had one; a high-pitched whine erupts out of your lips and he ducks his head down to your ear.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “You just-... fuck, you feel so good.”

“Mm, says you.” 

It’s another moment before he thrusts with intent, though. But when he does? When he pulls out halfway before sliding all the way back inside you, losing and regaining the feeling of your heat enveloping him entirely, hearing your gasps against his collarbone? The invisible reigns holding him back unravel and he settles into a slow but intensely deep rhythm, guiding your legs around his waist. You hook your ankles behind his back and somehow, you suck him in deeper still, your bodies touching everywhere they possibly can, so impossibly close.

The arm not holding his weight slides beneath your hips and raises them just a little. Now, at this angle, every time he rolls into you he grazes against your sweet-spot and you’re reduced to an incoherent mess within a few minutes. Good, he thinks, because he’s not doing much better, himself.

You hug him tighter after one particularly well-angled thrust, sinking your teeth into the muscle of his shoulder. He hisses at the sting, and your lips part as if you’re about to apologise but he doesn’t give you the chance to; he bumps your nose with his own to ask you to lift your head slightly, before he bends down and kisses you hard.

“Do that again,” he gasps, almost all of his weight against you as the hand not around your hips comes up to rest on your cheek. When your brows tighten, he swipes his thumb over your spit-covered, swollen lips. “Please. ”

So, you do.

Maybe not as harshly as the first time, but your teeth find his collarbone and you suck a bruise into his skin, drawing from him the highest pitched sound you think he could possibly make. He squares his jaw, ducking his head back down, biting on his bottom lip before he has no choice but to speak.

“I’m close, y/n,” he confesses, fucking into you slower, trying to stave it off for a few more seconds, his hips stuttering. “Can-... can you give me one more…?”

You nod, the knot in your stomach already growing tighter and tighter with every movement he makes, and when one of your hands unwinds from around his back to slide between your sweat-slicked bodies, he moves slightly away, letting you reach down.

It’s the sight of two of your fingers finding your clit and rubbing your favourite movements out on yourself that takes him past the point of no return, his cock sliding in and out of you messily, desperately, chasing the high that he’s right on the brink of. He kisses and nips just below your ear, breathy groans tickling your neck, and your high-pitched whine tells him you’ve hit your orgasm just as he starts to spill his into the condom, gushing around him, your walls fluttering and milking him for all he’s worth. 

—

You offer for him to shower first – an offer he gratefully accepts. While you’re taking your turn afterwards, Jihoon hunts down a fresh duvet cover in your room; he changes it, grabs you a glass of water for when you’re done, and sits on the edge of his bed with just the towel wrapped around his waist, scrolling through his phone. He looks up with a bright grin as the door opens and you emerge through it in your pyjamas, glowing from the light behind you, stray droplets of water clinging to your arms. 

You pause gently rubbing your hair dry with the towel, eyes brightening when you see him. “You didn’t have to do all this,” you say, and he pushes a hand through his own still damp hair with a laugh.

“It was the least I could do,” he counters. You raise your eyebrows at him, crossing the room to sit opposite him. He drops his phone down onto the mattress. “I couldn’t leave and make you change them yourself.”

“Leave?” you ask, picking up one of his hands and playing idly with his fingers. 

“I mean, it’s getting pretty late, so…” he says. “I probably need to get going at some point.”

“Or…” you say, tongue darting out over your lips. “Maybe you don’t.”

Jihoon looks down at your hands, then back up at you. Are you suggesting what he thinks you are, or has he still not quite come back to himself from earlier? It’s hard to say if the look on your face is hope, or something else.

“Are you… asking me to stay?” he asks. 

“Only if you want to,” you tell him. He lifts your hands up, pressing a kiss to one of your knuckles, then using it to tug you closer to him until he can plant one on your own lips. “I’ve probably got an old t-shirt you could sleep in.”

“Of course I want to.”

So you slip away from him to go rummaging through your drawers, trying to find the promised article of clothing. The whole time, he’s awestruck. Jihoon can’t take his eyes off you.

——————

He wakes up next to you for the first time on a Saturday morning. His sleep-fogged brain registers lying on an unfamiliar mattress, tucked beneath new bedsheets, eyes fluttering open to take in a room he doesn’t quite recognise at first. Part of him wonders if he’s still dreaming. When he rolls over onto his side, and his eyes land on the curve of your shoulders, the fall of your hair down your back, he has to ask himself the same thing again. 

All of last night must’ve been a dream, he muses, smiling shyly to himself and watching your frame rise and fall with every slow breath you take. There’s no way you really told him you liked him, too. There’s no way any of it could have really happened.

“Y/n?” He asks in the gentlest of whispers, only wanting to stir you if you’re awake already. When there’s no response, he moves a tiny bit closer to you, hesitating before he slips his arm around your waist and settles with his chest pressed against your back. A wildly insecure part of his brain tries to argue that just because you wanted what happened last night, that doesn’t mean you want all of this now. Maybe you only wanted to sleep with him, or maybe you’ll have changed your mind somehow now the sun’s come up. He considers moving away again, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling until you wake up and he can have a real conversation about where both of your heads are at with everything, but he barely gets a chance.

Those thoughts are silenced almost immediately, his brain falling quiet the second you roll over in his arms. You bury your head in the valley between his pectorals, tucked away from the world beneath his chin. His arms tighten around your sleep-warmed body.

“What time is it?” You ask. He contains a shiver at the softness of your voice, bliss running the length of his spine. Jihoon thinks that he could get used to this.

“I don’t know. Early, I think,” he murmurs, and you whine softly, burrowing deeper against his chest. “Go back to sleep.”

“Not if you’re awake,” you say. He’s not entirely convinced you can stick to that promise, though, with the way you yawn and he feels your eyelashes fluttering. 

“Don’t worry about me,” he tells you, the tips of his fingers ticking against your side. He ducks his head, pressing a kiss to your hair. A soft hum rumbles in your throat and he can’t hold back the smile that spreads over his lips. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

True enough, you fall back asleep curled up against him and Jihoon, to the sounds of your slowing breaths, drifts off too. A few hours later, at a far more reasonable time, you wake him up with a press of your lips to the tip of his nose.

Innocent, exploratory kisses grow heated in the warmth of the sun that streams through your blinds. Hands start to travel, sleep clothes get discarded, and you have him lying on his back, pressing kisses down his chiselled stomach when his phone starts to vibrate on the floor next to the bed.

He groans at the distraction, again as you shuffle up to sit on your knees and look at him expectantly. 

“Are you gonna answer that?” you ask, the tips of your fingers grazing his thighs. He shakes his head, no. “Come on, Jihoon. It might be important.”

“Not important enough,” he sighs. 

“At least see who it is,” you laugh. Despite a huffed protest, he props himself up on one elbow, leaning over the side of the bed and glancing down at his phone screen.

Seungcheol.

The arrangement to go for a run this morning comes rushing back to Jihoon, who slaps a hand to his forehead and reaches down to grab his phone off the floor, looking at you apologetically.

“Give me two seconds,” he says, and you grin wickedly up at him, ducking low to press a kiss to one of the lines that disappears down into his boxers. 

“Take all the time you need.”

He answers the call frowning, flopping his head back against the pillows. 

“Hey, look – I’m really sorry,” he starts to say, but Seungcheol’s voice cuts him off almost straight away.

“Jihoon, where the hell are you? I got to your apartment and your car wasn’t here, and Seokmin said he didn’t hear you come home last night. We all thought you’d died,” he hurries. Jihoon can picture the expression on the other man’s face perfectly, which is pretty unfortunate seeing as how you’ve moved to start palming his hardening cock through his briefs.

“I stayed out,” Jihoon says, a little wobbly. “I can’t make the run, someth-... shit.” You press an open-mouthed kiss to the outline of his length, the heat of your breath through the fabric sending him into overdrive. “Something came up-...”

The line goes silent for a second, and his breath stutters as you do the same thing again. Each press of your lips is euphoric agony, and he’s really not hiding this as well as he wishes he could. One look down at you tells him that you’re very proud of that.

“Dude,” Seungcheol gasps, snickering suddenly. “Tell me you’re not with a girl right now.”

“Shut up. Go away,” Jihoon grunts. “I’ll call you later.”

“Oh my God, is it gym girl? Did you finally-...”

“Bye, Cheol,” he hurries, hanging up before his friend can say anything else. He drops his phone onto the mattress, fake-glaring down at you and shaking his head. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“Yeah?” you ask, pulling at the waistband of his briefs to tug them down his legs. “Let me make it up to you, huh?”

[paindivinemp3]

forget about work crush. kim namjoon is the one and only

[fairyhaos]

the small romantic gestures that seventeen would be

this has been in my head since april so it's really nice to finally!!!! be able to get it out :>

masterlist

seungcheol

maintaining eye contact as you talk. it's such a devastatingly lovely action and it shows how attentive he is of you, all the time, even if you're just telling him some silly story about something that happened at work. he pays attention to you, always, because he cares. he'll smile at you, looking you in the eye and silently encouraging you to continue talking even if the rest of the group isn't quite interested anymore, because he still is, because it's you, and he's always interested in what you have to say. 

jeonghan

sincerely complimenting your outfits. you quite like fashion. he likes being stylish, but he wouldn't exactly call himself the biggest fashionista, and you know this and are totally fine with that. but sometimes he'll look over at what you've decided to wear on your date, do a double take and very genuinely tell you what he likes about it. he tells you you're pretty every day, sure, but the fact he takes the time to notice your clothes even though he doesn't really care about that kind of thing? you feel touched that he's paying attention to something that you care about, too. 

joshua

holding doors open for you. he’s a gentleman, and also a little shit, and holding doors for you is the perfect way to be both. it's sweet, and helps you carry on your conversations without a hitch, and earns him a warm smile as you enter through the cafe doors he's held open for you. but he also holds the door when you're several metres away, just grinning as you glare and do that awkward hop-run towards him so he won't be standing there by the door for ages. nevertheless, the action is often mindless, natural, showing how much he always goes out of his way to help you, even with the little things. 

junhui

sends you pics and is like “this is us!!!!”. it's not ur typical romantic gesture thing, but it also shows how he just thinks about you, always. whenever he goes out anywhere you can bet he'll take a photo of two cats or two leaves or, one time, two cigarette butts on the floor and tell u how they look just like you two <33 even if you can't see any sort of correlation whatsoever, it warms your heart and you find yourself looking forward to the silly little pictures that junhui sends you. you have a whole album in your phone dedicated to them, in fact. he cries when he finds out. 

hoshi

giving you flowers. not the plastic-wrapped, fancily arranged flowers. just… flowers he finds. a pretty violet in the park that made him think of you. a sunflower from the girl selling flowers in front of her house because they're cute and he thinks you're cute too. sometimes the flowers are growing in someone's garden so he sends you photos of them, because flowers are pretty and it only seems right to send pretty things to the prettiest person he knows. and it feels more heartfelt to send you these ones, the real ones, rather than the perfectly picked flowers in the shop. because that's what you are. beautiful and real.

wonwoo

he becomes talkative when he's with you. this isn't rlly a gesture (most of these aren't tbh) but he just. he just talks so much when he's talking to you. wonwoo is quite introverted, and even with the others, he'll probably talk the least, but when it comes to you, it's like the words just flow out of him. you make him feel comfortable. he wants to tell you everything, to share every detail of his life with you, because there's just something about you that makes him feel lighter, softer, more relaxed. there are few who know wonwoo better than he knows himself, but he's more than happy with the fact that you're one of them.

woozi

smiling whenever he sees you. every time your eyes meet, every single damn time, the corners of his lips will twitch upwards and his eyes will crinkle just that little bit. most of the time, it's unintentional, and it makes you feel giddy to know you have such an unconscious effect on him. sometimes, he'll smile for your sake even when he's exhausted out of his mind, and that touches your heart, because he cares enough to put on a smile for you, to try and comfort you, to show you that he loves you even when he's like this. 

minghao

remembering small things about you. you swear that minghao probably had some secret file full of information about you, because you really don't know how he does it. you'll offhandedly mention something about your niche food preferences one time, but he'll remember it and randomly bring it up when you're out at dinner three months later. it's like some sort of magic, but when you comment on it, minghao just shrugs with a smile. of course he remembers these things about you. who do you think he is? 

mingyu

sending “goodnight” and “good morning” texts. every. single. day. it's so devastatingly sweet of him, and he always wakes up a little earlier than you, so you get to start each day with a brief, adorable morning update from your boyfriend. they're sometimes the only things that get you out of bed, and at night, you know you're guaranteed one last conversation with the love of your life before you go to sleep, and nothing is more comforting than going to bed whilst imagining mingyu murmuring a warm “goodnight” into your ears

dokyeom

holding hands. the action itself could be romantic enough, but he always has a specific intention, a specific reason that causes him to hold your hand. you never know how he knows, but when you're particularly stressed or overwhelmingly exhausted or simply feeling like you're at your limit, his hand finds yours, fingers interlacing, his touch warm and safe and grounding. it's like he always knows, like he's aware that he's your lifeline, that he's the one thing you need in order to keep sane. he holds your hand, and that small action speaks louder than any “i love you” he's ever said. 

seungkwan

“so, tell me how your day went?”. he's a yapper, he won't deny it, and firmly tells you that it's because gossip just loves him so he kind of Has to talk about stuff, Always. there's always something or other going on in his life at any given point and if he can, he'll 100% tell you every single detail. nevertheless, he's still aware that he can sometimes talk a little too much, so after a bit, he'll always settle down and turn the topic to you. regardless of how busy he is, he'll always find time to talk about you and what you've been up to, no matter what. 

vernon

tucking your hair out of your face. it's habitual, and he won't even bat an eye as he lifts a finger to brush a strand of hair away before it can get caught on your lips or fly into your eyes. it's sweet, but also a little unusual, so you ask him about it one day, as he's tucking loose curls behind your ear. and he says it's simply because he likes watching you talk, likes looking at your face as your eyes shine and you chatter animatedly, and he didn't want your hair getting in the way. he likes looking at you, he says. so he tucks your hair out of your face. 

chan

he's always planning “surprise dates”. it's so cute bc you always know when they're coming, because he's grinning ridiculously wide and looking so!! adorably!! pleased with himself before he asks you out but it's just so endearing that you always smile and laugh as you say yes. the fact that he never gets tired of planning things for you, for arranging days where he does things specifically for you and takes you out to do things that he thinks you will love… it shows how much he loves you, even without him having to say the words. 

request guidelines

reactions tags: @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @newgirlygirl @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @wonranghaeee @yonabutnotyuna @crackedpumpkin @wqnwoos @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @icyminghao @valenhui @sweet-like-caramel @odxrilove @kyeomyun @chansburgah @pepperonijem @jeonride @kellesvt @kikohao @astrozuya @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @all-american-fangirl @f1uffyjun @sea-moon-star @nonononranghaee @isabellah29 @mcu-incorrect @hrts4hanniehae @suraandsugar @pan-de-seungcheol @dokyeomkyeom @melodicrabbit @bananabubble

[luumiinaa]

The ending too, like that’s just ironical-karma 😭

Calico

Choi Y/N is pretty, smart, and funny and she knows it - mostly because she hears it all the time from the men (read: victims) she dates. She's about to get a taste of her own medicine.

Pssst... this now has a sequel called LMLY, if you're interested.

Pairing: Joshua x female reader; mentions of Mingyu x female reader, Woozi x female reader, Seokmin x female reader, Jeonghan x female reader Genres: (a little) fluff, (quite a bit of) angst, smut, college au

Word count: 31k

TW/CW: MDNI, contains smut with no protection mentioned (be safe please!!), mentions of alcohol, food, a whole lot of cyber bullying, mentions of some tough family dynamics such as divorce.

A/N: The way these characters are written in no way indicates reality as this is entirely a work of fiction. This was initially inspired by John Tucker Must Die, but took a left turn or two as it came together.

Recommended playlist: Calico by DPR Ian; Easy by Jaehyun; Lie to Girls by Sabrina Carpenter

Act One

Joshua carefully ties the black apron around his waist. He’s in a pair of black slacks, a black button down shirt, and a black tie - the required uniform that’s way nicer than some of the ones he’s had to wear before. It’s only his third week at one of the many upscale sushi places in town. Minghao, his new roommate, had recommended him for a job and the manager had blindly agreed without really looking at Joshua’s resume. The manager said they needed the help since school was going to be back in session soon and they expected an influx of foot traffic. That worked perfectly for Joshua because while the hourly wage left a little to be desired as a lot of waiting jobs did, the tips were good here and he didn’t mind eating sushi everyday on his break. 

This wasn’t Joshua’s first waiting job, so he didn’t need a manager to tell him what to do when he arrived for his shift. On his first day, he’d had exactly two hours of training before the shift leader said he didn’t need it. He found out which section he’d be waiting on tonight and when the hostess led a couple to one of his tables, he was right behind them. 

With a practiced smile, he greeted them. “Good evening. I’m Joshua, and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Have you been here before?”

The woman smiles and looks to the man she’s with. He shakes his head, an easy grin on his face. Joshua tells them about the specials and points out some popular items on the menu, before taking their drink orders. 

The thing is, this woman has definitely been here - just not with the man she’s with tonight. In fact, she was here last week and the week before with another man. He glances at them curiously while he waits for the bartender to fix their drinks. The man is handsome and clearly spends a lot of time in the gym. And the woman is beautiful, model-like even. Maybe they’re just friends, he thinks. Pretty people like that tend to flock together. Then he sees them reach out to hold hands across the table. They look like the picture perfect couple. Just like she did with the guy last week too. 

Minghao approaches the bar in a matching uniform and apron, giving his table’s drink orders to the bartender. Then he follows Joshua’s eyes. Joshua’s surprised when he chuckles. 

“Do you know them?” 

Minghao shakes his head. “Not personally. I’d kind of prefer to keep it that way. They go to school with us.” 

Joshua hums. Classes haven’t started yet, so he wouldn’t have known that. He’s a transfer student and knows next to nothing about his potential classmates, or campus yet for that matter beyond the dorm and the student union. He’s hoping Minghao will give him a tour in the next few days so he doesn’t look like a total freshman with a printed map from the Admissions office. 

“They’re cute together. Have they been dating long?” Joshua doesn’t mean anything by the question because he’s just curious and making small talk. Minghao’s nice but they don’t know each other well yet. He’s surprised at how amused Minghao looks at the question.

“Uh, no. And it won’t last either.”

Joshua gives him a perplexed look. “How do you know that?”

“Choi Y/N doesn’t stay with anyone for long. She even likes to see a few at once sometimes from what I hear, not that the poor bastards ever know it until it’s too late. I doubt that even Kim Mingyu will keep her attention for longer than a few weeks.” 

Joshua shrugs, gathering the drinks that the bartender slides him. As long as they were paying the bill at the end of dinner, he didn’t care too much who she came to dinner with. He delivers their drinks with the same practiced smile and takes their orders. He checks on them a couple times while they eat and when the time comes, he swipes Kim Mingyu’s card for the bill and they leave. He buses the table quickly and moves on with his night. 

Whatever Choi Y/N did was really none of his business, though he felt kind of bad for Kim Mingyu. The guy looked like he was already in love. 

~

“Are you out to ruin my life?” 

Y/N raises an eyebrow at Seungcheol in amusement. “Yes, literally since we were evicted from the womb.”

Her twin brother drops his back pack into a chair and slams the tray of food on the table across from her, plopping down. “First of all, you have to stop saying that. You’re a biology major, you know there’s a more appropriate way to say that.” 

“I’m just calling it what Eomma does! She reminds us every August,” Y/N says innocently. Their mother had even given them a cake with ‘Happy Eviction Day’ written on it in icing a couple weeks ago. It was their 22nd birthday and they were away for most of the year for school. She wasn’t kicking them out now because she’d already done that in the ‘most important’ way 22 years ago. 

Seungcheol is not impressed. “Second of all,” he says forcefully, “I’m trying to run a basketball team here! I’ve told you that you cannot mess with my players.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. Kim Mingyu had not taken her turning down another date very well. He’d taken her out a handful of times and he checked a lot of boxes or she wouldn’t have gone out with him otherwise. He was handsome, had a nice body, was intelligent, and was very giving in bed. But she didn’t really feel a spark, so Y/N declined to see him again this week.

“Is going on a few dates ‘messing with your players’ now? You didn’t complain before.” 

“That’s because he was a freshman. I wasn’t giving him any playing time anyway,” Seungcheol seethed, but Y/N knew there was something exaggerated about it. Call it twin telepathy. “Kim Mingyu, on the other hand, is one of my starters and he’s been sucking ass all week. Air balls every time, no defense to speak of, tripping over his own feet. You’ve ruined yet another one.”

“Ruined is such a strong word,” Y/N said lightly, picking at her lunch. It was spaghetti day at the student union and it wasn’t her favorite, but she didn’t have time to run back to the sorority house for anything between classes and office hours for her TA position. 

“Ruined what?” Jeonghan says, sliding into the seat next to Y/N with his tray. 

“She’s out to ruin my team again!” Seungcheol cries, putting emphasis on ‘again’, but he should know he won’t get any sympathy here. 

Jeonghan laughs, pushing his tray to touch Y/N’s. He plops two pieces of garlic bread on her tray before stealing half of her spaghetti. Y/N doesn’t try to stop him because this is such an old habit that there would be no point. They’ve been splitting meals since they first started eating solid foods as babies. Seungcheol had never been much of a sharer, but Y/N didn’t mind it. Plus, she really wants the garlic bread and Jeonghan knows it. He can sweet talk the lunch lady better than she can to get an extra piece every now and then. “Mingyu didn’t take it well, huh?”

“He did not,” Y/N answers in a sing-song voice. 

“I’m surrounded by monsters.” Seungcheol is full on pouting now, but Y/N and Jeonghan have known him too long for it to have an effect. 

“Eat your food, Cheol,” Y/N insists. He probably only listens because he’s hungry, but Y/N would like to think it’s because she’s a few minutes older. 

“What are you guys doing on Friday?” Jeonghan asks them. “I was thinking about going to see that new horror movie.”

“I’m free, but does it have to be a horror movie? Can it be literally anything else?” Seungcheol asked, swatting Y/N’s hand away when she reached across the table to pinch his cheek. Among them, Y/N and Jeonghan were the horror fans, and Seungcheol hid behind his hands the whole time. He had for years. 

“Yes, it has to be a horror movie. You picked a stupid romcom last time,” Jeonghan teased. “It’s my turn. Are you free?” He turns to Y/N.

Between bites of garlic bread, Y/N shakes her head. “No, I have a date. I’ll have to catch it another day.”

Jeonghan shrugs. “Suit yourself. We’re still talking about it after we both see it though.” 

“Who’s the next victim?” Seungcheol chortles. Y/N isn’t surprised that he’s already over his pouting. 

“You and these strong words,” Y/N admonishes. “Dating me doesn’t make someone a victim. Would you say the same thing about the girls Jeonghan dates?”

“Yes,” Seungcheol deadpans. Y/N and Jeonghan both show no reaction to the insult. “Now who is it? Please tell me it’s no one else from the basketball team. I already have to rethink my starters.”

“Lee Seokmin,” Y/N gives a dreamy smile. 

“Let me guess, he’s the one this time,” Jeonghan teases.

“Just like everyone else before him,” Seungcheol tacks on with a chuckle. “Where’d you meet the poor guy?”

Y/N is unfazed by their teasing. “Creative writing class. He’s so sweet, and funny, and have you seen his arms?”

They haven’t, but this sort of comment doesn’t surprise them. Y/N was a little bit of a hopeless romantic. She believed in love at first sight and seemed to feel it frequently, but she also seemed to fall out of love just as fast. But that pattern didn’t seem to matter because just about any straight man on campus would wait their turn patiently, and even some women. Seungcheol and Jeonghan both knew it. All she had to do is bat her eyes and smile sweetly and people were falling at her feet. She just had that sort of affect on people without even realizing it.

“Be gentle,” Seungcheol reminds like he knows where this is going to go. 

“No, I feel really good about this one, Cheol,” Y/N insists animatedly. “What’s not to like?”

“Whatever you say, angel,” Jeonghan placates. “I hope it goes well.” 

It did go well. Really well, in fact. Seokmin was a total gentleman as much as he was a total goofball. It looked like the waiter wanted to kick them out with how disruptive they were being during dinner, so they cut dinner short and went for a walk around the park. He held her hand and offered her his jacket when she got cold. When they arrive at the front door of the sorority house, he presses a kiss to the back of her hand and doesn’t move until she’s inside and has locked the door. Perfect. Gentleman. 

Y/N collapses into bed that night with a dreamy sigh. When her phone vibrates with a text from Seokmin, she immediately agrees to go out with him again. 

~

Lee Seokmin is riding on a high. Things are good. Classes only started a couple weeks ago, but they seem like they’ll be a breeze. This gives him plenty of time to prepare for his upcoming audition in the fall play that the Theatre department is putting on. He thinks he might actually have a shot at the lead role this time. His friend, Junhui, thinks so too after running lines with him. 

And then there’s Y/N. Seokmin sighs dreamily. She’s pretty, funny, and smart - the full package. They share a creative writing class this semester and when they were paired up to peer review their first assignment, he’s not sure what possessed him, but he just shot his shot. Amazingly, she said yes. And their date had gone so well that he didn’t hesitate long to ask for another one. And she’d said yes to that too! 

He’s been unable to wipe the dopey smile off his face as he walks into the library and finds his group members already there. They were asked to pair up for a semester long project in their psychology course and it was simple to look around and find the two guys sitting closest to him in the back of the class. Neither of them seemed to care who they were partnered up with either, so they exchanged numbers and agreed to meet this afternoon. 

He knew of Kim Mingyu, the star basketball player. He didn’t know of Lee Jihoon until this class. He was apparently a music major and spent a lot of time in the Fine Arts building. Both guys greet him as he sits down. They’re friendly, but not overly so, which makes sense because they’d never had a conversation before last week. “You seem way too cheerful,” Jihoon comments lightly, though Seokmin’s not sure he really cares for a response. 

“Just in a good mood,” Seokmin chirps. 

Mingyu is not nice, not today anyway. He sighs grumpily, opening his laptop. “I have some things to do in a bit. Can we get started?” 

They have to propose an experiment or case study in a couple weeks, which they will turn in by the end of the semester. It could be on any Psychology topic, which offers an overwhelming amount of options as they flip through the textbook. After a few internet searches, they start offering suggestions. Jihoon proposes that they do something with music - maybe how someone’s music taste correlates with their personality. He says there are already so many personality tests out there that they can use and they’d just have to build a simple survey for music tastes. Mingyu recommends something to do with testing short term memory, like a brain game of some sort which they can just recruit their friends for. Something easy to set up, time, and pop into a graph. Seokmin is intrigued by the idea of peoples’ perceptions of beauty and how facial symmetry impacts it. It’s admittedly less thought through than the other ideas because he doesn’t have any idea how to carry out an experiment like that - but give him a break! He’s a theatre major! He wouldn’t be in this class at all if it wasn’t a requirement!

“Do you have a model with perfect facial symmetry that we can borrow for that experiment if we choose it?” Jihoon asks and Seokmin knows he’s not asking seriously. 

Still Seokmin says, “Yes!” Then, he hums. “Well, I don’t know if she’s ever modeled, but I think she’d fit the bill. It’s the girl I’ve been seeing.” 

Jihoon and Mingyu don’t look totally displeased with the idea. “Oh? Let me see,” Mingyu insists. Seokmin feels really proud to show off Y/N’s latest Instagram photo. That is, until Mingyu takes one look at Seokmin’s phone and spits, “Oh, fuck no!”

Jihoon grabs the phone and Seokmin is hoping for a better reaction. He doesn’t get it. Jihoon scoffs, rolling his eyes so hard his head rolls back. 

“What? You guys don’t think she’s pretty?!” Seokmin says loudly, almost forgetting he’s in a library. It’s such a crazy concept to him because she’s not the campus it girl for nothing. He’s known her name for two years now for a reason.

“Yeah, she’s pretty, but she’s a raging bitch,” Mingyu says heatedly. Seokmin is taken aback. Y/N seemed so sweet, Mingyu must have the wrong idea. 

Jihoon snorts. “Yeah, something like that.” 

Seokmin locks his phone, confused. “Have you guys met her or something?” 

“Who hasn’t?” Mingyu rolls his eyes. 

Jihoon shakes his head, looking at Seokmin with pity. “Man, take my word for it. That’s going nowhere fast.” 

“No? She seems so sweet.” Seokmin sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. 

“Mhm,” Jihoon hums. “Tell me, where did she want to go for your first date?” 

Seokmin frowns. “What does that have to do with anything?” 

“Let me guess,” Mingyu looked at Seokmin pointedly. “That sushi place on the north side of campus? Near the hospital?” 

Seokmin frowns deeper, voice turning small. “How did you know that?”

“That’s where she and I went a few weeks ago, before she dumped me. I got exactly three dates with her,” Mingyu snapped. Seokmin couldn’t tell if this anger was directed at her or maybe directed at him for being the next guy she dated. 

Jihoon laughs coldly. “Same, except it was over the summer.” 

Seokmin huffs defensively. “There’s nothing wrong with dating around. Besides, things are going well. We really clicked!” 

“How many dates have you had?” Mingyu asked. Seokmin meekly answers and Mingyu nods, lips pursed. “Then you have two more at the most. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Needless to say, we can do your idea, but we won’t be using her as a model,” Jihoon tacks on. 

Now, Seokmin isn’t one to be deterred. He really likes Y/N, so he agrees with Jihoon’s experiment idea if only to move on with the day. He's sure that Mingyu and Jihoon have it all wrong. They’re just bitter that it didn’t work out with someone as perfect as her. Seokmin had forgotten to ask, but he’s so sure they must have done something to run her off. 

The next night, he picks Y/N up from the sorority house and they have a great time going to see a musical at the community theatre. She seems tired by the time they get back to the sorority house, so he kisses her on the cheek and lets her go in. After all, she said she’d had cheer practice earlier that afternoon. He keeps that in mind for scheduling future dates. 

For their third date, Seokmin finds himself at the movie theater watching the latest horror movie. He is not a horror fan by a long shot, but he’s not brave enough to tell her that when she suggests it. She seems totally unfazed by every single gory scene and jump scare, while Seokmin is doing everything he can to keep it together. Not his best night. 

But she’s sweet and holds his hand throughout the movie. He shyly apologizes when they stop in front of the sorority house and says that horror is not his typical choice. She shrugs and kisses his cheek before going inside. 

A few days later, Seokmin sends Y/N a message asking if he can take her out again. He’s walking to the library to meet his psych group members when the fated text comes through. ‘Hi Seokmin! Thank you for the offer. You’re so sweet, but I don’t think I’m interested in pursuing anything further with you. I’m sorry and I hope you understand!’

Seokmin hates how smug Kim Mingyu looks when Seokmin slumps in his chair with none of the cheerfulness he had last time they met. “We were right, weren’t we?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Seokmin mumbled. He thinks he might cry so he busies himself with his laptop. 

Jihoon pats his back a couple times. “That’s tough, man. I wish we hadn’t been right, but you know…”

“No, I don’t know. I have no clue what I did wrong,” Seokmin lamented, frustration bleeding into his voice. 

“That’s just what she does,” Mingyu shrugs. He’s not so angry now, maybe because misery loves company. Maybe because the guy after him also got dumped. 

Jihoon cursed. “Speak of the devil.” 

Mingyu and Seokmin follow Jihoon’s eyes and Seokmin really thinks he might cry. Y/N is standing with Jeong Jaehyun near the History section half way across the second floor balcony, but they aren’t really looking at the books. He’s leaning way too close to whisper in her ear and Y/N’s hand lands on his chest. Seokmin hopes it’s to push him away, but it’s not. She gives him the same sweet smile when he pulls away from her ear.

“Damn, she moves fast,” Jihoon mutters. “When did she break it off with you?” 

Seokmin’s head is in his hands. “She sent me a message on my way here.” He doesn’t have to look up because he hears the hiss of sympathy both of them let out. They’d at least had a few days to breathe before they found out she’d already moved on to someone else. 

“Come on,” Mingyu says, standing up to pack his bag. “We can do this over drinks, right? You look like you need one.”

Seokmin doesn’t have much to say, even when a glass of liquor is put in front of him, along with a plate of greasy bar food. Mingyu and Jihoon have plenty to say though. 

Jihoon met Y/N over the summer at a bar. His friends wanted to get him out of the house and he’d begrudgingly agreed. He met Y/N while he was getting himself a drink and he thought she was gorgeous, but he didn’t say anything to her initially besides a simple ‘excuse me’. While he was waiting for his drink though, she gave him a heart stopping smile and introduced herself. Now, Jihoon admits that he’s not the warmest person, but Y/N is and it was totally disarming.

However, after three dates, she said he was sweet, but she just wasn’t interested in pursuing anything further with him. 

Mingyu knew her through his captain from the basketball team - she’s his twin. He had always been enamored with her but he saw a revolving door of men around her all the time and was just waiting for the right moment. That opportunity presented itself at the twins’ birthday party in early August. He gave her a little gift and she gave him a heart stopping smile. They hooked up that night and then went on three subsequent dates. 

But just like Jihoon, she said he was sweet, but she just wasn’t interested in pursuing anything further with him. 

Seokmin could openly weep now with how obviously he’d been played because she’d used that exact phrase in her text. Mingyu and Jihoon seem genuinely sympathetic. “Don’t take it personally. We’re far from the first victims,” Jihoon insists. “If it makes you feel any better, Jaehyun is just next in line for the slaughter.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m sure of it,” Mingyu adds. “Maybe one day she’ll get a taste of her own medicine.” At this point, they’ve all abandoned the idea of working on their project, backpacks sitting on the grimy bar floor under the table. This little therapy session is more important to them it seems. 

“Wouldn’t that be nice? Someone to reel her in only to toss her out?” Jihoon chortled. It seems unlikely given everything he’s seen and heard now. She seems to do most of the reeling in and tossing out. 

Seokmin’s not sure that would make him feel better anyway. He finishes his dinner and drink, agreeing to meet them again in a couple days to actually do some work on their proposal. Seokmin goes to bed early that night.

~

“Jeong Jaehyun, huh?” Jeonghan raises an eyebrow at Y/N as they eat a late lunch. They’re sitting in the courtyard today to get some sun. Seungcheol is in class, so it’s just the two of them. 

Y/N gives him a big smile. “Yeah. He asked me out earlier this week. Isn’t he cute?”

“So cute,” Jeonghan snorts. She knows he doesn’t give a shit about how cute Jaehyun is. “What happened to Lee Seokmin? Or are you doubling up again?” He doesn’t mean it unkindly, just curiously. It would be hypocritical of him to give her a hard time about it anyway because he’s been known to do the same thing on occasion. 

Y/N’s smile dims a little. “He took me to a musical and he doesn’t like horror movies.”

“Ah,” Jeonghan laughs at her misfortune. “Did you tell him you hate musicals? And that liking horror movies is kind of a requirement?” 

Y/N sighs. “I was hoping the musical would be tolerable. He’s such a sweet guy and seemed excited about it. And he didn’t say anything about it when I suggested the horror movie, but then he nearly broke my hand. It wasn’t even that scary, was it?!” This last part is plea for understanding. 

Jeonghan agrees instantly, though he doesn’t really need to. They’d already talked about how bad it was for hours. “No, it was very lame and incredibly predictable. 3/10 at best.”

“Right?!” Y/N scoffs. “Anyway, I’m going out with Jaehyun on Friday. Don’t tell Seungcheol.”

“I’m sure I don’t have to… Jaehyun has been bragging constantly about it, and you know how locker room talk gets around, particularly with the basketball team,” Jeonghan explains. After a beat, he adds, “Maybe you should be careful with this one. Don’t put out right away at least. Make him work for it a little.”

Y/N hums. “Maybe. You know it’s never really about that though. Plus, you know I don’t care about the locker room talk.”

Jeonghan pats her hand comfortingly. “I know, angel.” He does know both of those things. He knows how she gets swept up in the romance of it all at first, or at least the idea of it, and if sex happens then it happens. And he also knows that she’s great at ignoring the locker room talk later because she’s already moved on by the time it gets back around to her. But the locker room talk bothers him and he regularly runs interference to keep it in check. He’s definitely not above making a few threats for his best friend. But as long as she’s happy, Jeonghan is too. 

~

Seokmin joins Mingyu and Jihoon in the courtyard in the early afternoon because none of them wanted to be in the dark and stuffy library. He sits between them at the round table and they immediately pin him with a look. “Do you want to move?” Jihoon asks, pointing across the courtyard. “We were debating on finding somewhere else to meet.”

Seokmin sees Y/N a few tables away but her back is turned to him. Seokmin has to get over this sooner rather than later and ruminating over her or whoever the guy sitting with her is won’t help much. He shares a class with her - one that he needs for his degree so he can’t drop it.

So he shrugs. “No, we can stay if you guys are okay with it. It’s nice out. New victim?” Seokmin asks, gesturing to the guy she’s with. The question comes out totally neutral because he’s feeling pretty numb about the whole thing.

Mingyu shakes his head. “No, that’s Yoon Jeonghan. She and Seungcheol have been friends with him since they were in diapers apparently. Jeonghan is basically the male version of Y/N from what I hear.” 

“A match made in hell,” Jihoon chuckles darkly. 

They all get out their laptops and textbooks to begin the proposal. Not a single one of them care much for this class, so it starts to feel like pulling teeth to get words on the shared document. For the thousandth time, Mingyu is reaching to his keyboard again, when dings and buzzes echo across the courtyard. Many people pick up their phones, including Mingyu. 

Except, while others start excitedly whispering, Mingyu sighs. “Forgot I turned that on,” he mumbles, opening something on his phone.

“You good?” Seokmin asks, glancing around the courtyard. He’s clearly missed something, and so has Jihoon, because both of their phones stay silent.

“The university gossip twitter. I had notifications on, which aren’t important anymore.” He’s pressing a few things and then he slides the phone to Seokmin and Jihoon. “That’s why.”

It’s a picture of Y/N and Jaehyun in the library, the exact sight the three of them had seen the other day, just from another angle. The caption said, ‘Choi Y/N and Jeong Jaehyun? How does the captain feel about this?’

Jihoon chuckles. “Tasteless. Not like she has any shame anyway,” he says, pointing a few tables over. Y/N and Jeonghan are giggling at something on his phone, probably the same thing they’re looking at. 

“Yeah, she’s a popular topic on there. The comments get kind of weird sometimes though. Look,” Mingyu says scrolling through them. “Everyone seems to love them together already. They always do. They liked you with her too, Seokmin.” 

Mingyu scrolls to a couple weeks ago. There’s no image, just a basic text post that says, ‘Choi Y/N spotted with Lee Seokmin. Didn’t know she was into theatre majors!!’ Under that post, so many people were gushing either about how cute they were together, or how jealous they were of Seokmin. There are even a few positive comments about Seokmin individually and he had no idea he had any admirers before reading this. Everything about it feels strange considering the way she dates around.

Seokmin huffed. “That’s a case study in conformity if I’ve ever seen it.”

He means it as a joke, but he catches Mingyu and Jihoon glancing at each other. “You… have a good point. Not that I care to get a good grade - no offense, but I just need to pass - but this basically writes itself,” Jihoon says slowly. 

“Conformity in social media. I don’t hate it,” Mingyu shrugs. “But it would have to be a case study. I don’t know how we’d manipulate what’s on here to make it an experiment.”

“No one knows who runs this account?” Seokmin asks curiously. He doesn’t really care what they write this paper about, or care to know who runs such an account, but it’s kind of intriguing when he sees the follower count. Half the student body must keep an eye on this single account and yet it’s still anonymous?

“Even if we did, what would our game plan be? I mean, we can’t hack it,” Jihoon laughs.

But Mingyu is suddenly chuckling darkly. “We can’t, but maybe someone else could.” Then he’s standing and Seokmin’s about to scold him for abandoning their assignment yet again. Mingyu waves at them to join, tossing his backpack over his shoulder. “Come on. This counts as work for the assignment, I promise.”

~

Wonwoo wakes up to a kick on his leg. He grumbles, blinking slowly and picking the book up off his face. He had been reading while laying in the grass in the quad, but the book was also a great cover to keep the sun out of his eyes for a little power nap. He blinks in the glare of the sunlight and then groans because he recognizes who kicked him, or at least the general shape. He’s seen Mingyu loom over him like this to wake him up too many times in their two years as roommates. 

“What do you want? I’m busy,” Wonwoo puts the book back over his face. 

Mingyu gets right to the point. “What would you need to know to be able to hack into a twitter account or find out who owns it?”

It’s not the weirdest question he’s ever gotten from Mingyu, so he stays under the book. “The username and free lunch for a week to start.”

“Done.” 

Odd. Usually there’s more of a fight for the terms of something like this. Wonwoo lifts the book, but there’s a phone shoved in his face. When he spots the username, he laughs. “Oh, yeah. Not sure how much luck you’re going to have with that one.”

“Why not? You can’t do it?” Mingyu asked curiously.

Wonwoo is back under the book. “I’ve never tried, but plenty of my classmates have. The power that account holds around here is legendary and a lot of people want their hands on it, but whoever runs it has incredible password hygiene and knows how to spot a phishing email. And the account uses a dead-end email address that connects back to no one in particular, so tracing it hasn’t worked for anyone so far either.” 

“So you can’t do it?” Mingyu presses. 

Wonwoo sighs, closing the book to stare up at his roommate. So much for his nap. “I didn’t say that. I’d still want free lunch for a week if I attempt it - keyword being ‘attempt’. Plus, you need to tell me why you need it. I believe in ethical hacking, remember.”

“It’s for a group project,” Mingyu says vaguely. Wonwoo now realizes it’s not just Mingyu standing around him. Two other guys are with him and they look pretty confused. 

Wonwoo sits up. “What the fuck kind of a project are you working on that you need access to an account like that?”

“Psychology.” Another vague answer. 

Wonwoo decides it’s not worth it to ask anymore questions. “I’ll see what I can do. But I have to do it at home. There are some things you shouldn’t do on university wifi, you know?”

“Great, thanks! Enjoy your nap. See you at home,” Mingyu waves, turning away. The two guys follow him, still looking terribly confused. Wonwoo isn’t going back to sleep now, so he picks up the book again and starts reading. A problem for another time.

~

“Him? Are you serious?” Seokmin asked.

“Not sure why, but I kind of expected some catty sorority girl,” Jihoon frowned.

Mingyu stared. “Wonwoo insisted he was sure.”

Late last night, Wonwoo had busted into Mingyu’s room, announcing that he’d done it. He said it wasn’t easy and it had taken a couple days, but he looked rather pleased with himself when he shoved his phone in Mingyu’s face. An Instagram account was pulled up on it. Wonwoo rambles something about IP addresses, cloud accounts, and traffic on the same network, which means very little to Mingyu who is used to mechanical and architectural engineering. When asked, Wonwoo says he’s 99.9% sure, with the remaining .1% implying that someone else could be using the same device on the same account and network. He unfortunately has no way of being totally certain that that’s not the case. Good enough for Mingyu.

“Sure enough to walk up and ask Boo Seungkwan for his twitter account?” Seokmin asks skeptically. The three of them are standing across the way from the Journalism and Communications building, watching Seungkwan scroll on his phone while he sits on a bench. 

“Is this really necessary? Do we need control of the account to do this? Like Seokmin said yesterday, the case study kind of writes itself,” Jihoon argues. 

Mingyu’s given this some thought. Or a lot, actually. “Hear me out,” he starts, because his two group members look so doubtful. “This could have a dual purpose. We could just write the case study… or we could try to gain some control over the account to start manipulating what gets posted and create an experiment. Plus… it might be a little bit of revenge.”

Seokmin nearly walks away. “Can’t we just do the music idea that Jihoon came up with? I’m not interested in revenge, I’d just like to forget those three dates and move on.”

“What kind of revenge?” Jihoon entertains, ignoring Seokmin’s argument. 

“I’m open to suggestions, but I was wondering what the response would be if the tone of the account changes. I mean, it’s never written as a bad thing if she moves on fast. I can’t imagine why it would when the account gets the kind of interaction it does. But I can’t help wondering what would happen if it was painted as a negative thing,” Mingyu explains.

Seokmin frowns. “You want to start a smear campaign?”

Mingyu looks at him with a mixture of confusion and anger. “What? You don’t think she deserves it?” 

Maybe she does, Seokmin thinks. Because here she comes, hand in hand with Jaehyun. Seokmin can’t believe that he can’t just avoid her on a campus this big. They’re chatting and smiling as they walk past the three of them. She even makes brief eye contact with Seokmin and has the gall to smile. Seokmin’s eyes are still following them when Jihoon sucks in a breath, hitting Seokmin in the chest to get his attention. 

Boo Seungkwan has his phone up now, taking a picture of them as they walk away, none the wiser. He taps a few times on his phone and then Mingyu’s phone dings. Mingyu looks pleased because Wonwoo was absolutely right, no 99.9% about it.

Seokmin huffs. “Fine. Let’s see what he says.” 

Mingyu takes the lead and Seungkwan looks at them curiously when they approach. “Boo Seungkwan?” Mingyu asks.

Seungkwan’s smile has a layer of something unsettling to it. “Kim Mingyu. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“We’d like to make a deal with you,” Mingyu says and Seungkwan looks intrigued. “We want access to your twitter account for a while. Name your price.”

“What twitter account?” Seungkwan says evenly. “I don’t even have one.”

“We just watched you take that picture and post it to the university gossip account,” Jihoon insists coolly. “I’d think you’d be more careful to not get caught since it’s anonymous.”

Seungkwan eyes the three of them carefully now. Finally, he says, “Say I knew what you were talking about, which I don’t; you’d have to make me a pretty incredible offer.”

“Name it,” Mingyu says simply. 

After a few more beats of silence, Seungkwan stands. “Follow me. This conversation  needs to be more private.” 

Inside the Journalism and Communications building, Seungkwan closes the door behind them in an empty study room. “How in the fuck did you know it was me? It wasn’t because of the picture I just posted. You guys had been watching me for nearly ten minutes already,” he snaps, totally losing the cool facade from outside.

“I know a guy,” Mingyu answers lamely. Seungkwan looked less than satisfied with the answer, so Mingyu continued. “He said your password was too good to guess anytime soon, but he was able to trace it back to you with quite a bit of certainty.”

“You tried to hack me?!” Seungkwan seethes. “Why on earth would you do that?” 

“It’s for a project. We’d like to use it to take Choi Y/N down a peg.”

Seungkwan reels back and laughs at Jihoon’s explanation, all the anger from a moment ago replaced by glee. “Oh, I see now. A few bitter exes wanting to get their lick back.” He plops down in one of the chairs, looking smug. “You know, you’re not the first to ask me that, but you are the first to successfully track me down in two years. Usually they just DM the twitter account, begging for a mean post about her.”

“As they should,” Mingyu insists. “You’ve seen what she does to men over and over.”

“And that’s really none of my business outside of this account,” Seungkwan answers diplomatically. “Y/N is a sweet girl that just happens to gets a lot of attention. She’s a favorite for my followers. No other subject does as good as she does on the account. Why would I want to ruin that?”

“Because she doesn’t just date around. She treats people like they’re disposable,” Seokmin finds himself snapping. He thinks it’s ironic when he defended her the same way Seungkwan is just a couple weeks ago, but that’s when he still thought he might be different. There was nothing wrong with dating around. But there might be something wrong if you make everyone you see feel special before cutting things off out of nowhere. 

“And I’m sure she’s sorry it didn’t work out,” Seungkwan said with such certainty that it made the three men look at him like he was crazy. “But I haven’t heard an offer yet. Or what this ‘project’ is for, for that matter,” Seungkwan folds his hands on the table expectantly. 

A lot of it is off the cuff because their proposal document is still very blank besides the headers, but they all explain, eventually sitting down at the table with him. Seungkwan is quiet for a long time. Seokmin thinks he might even look conflicted or that he’s getting ready to turn them down. But they’ve promised to give him plenty of content to post and that’s what finally makes him sigh.

“I’ll pull the plug on all of this as soon as I think it’s getting out of hand. And you guys will not have access to the account, but you can have a say in what gets posted.” His expression turns sly. “In exchange for the cooperation of your hacker.” 

Mingyu frowns. He’s not sure he can talk Wonwoo into anything more since he’s all out of IOUs. “Why would you need that? What do you have in mind?”

“I can explain if you make the introductions. I take it this person has some development experience?” Mingyu shrugs in response to Seungkwan’s question, not quite ready to reveal his roommate’s identity. “I have a little project of my own that he could help me with. And I think it could be of use in your project too.”

Mingyu, Jihoon, and Seokmin glance at each other. Finally, they all nod. “I’ll make it work,” Mingyu promises, desperately hoping it wasn’t empty.

~

Wonwoo folds in half with tears in his eyes. He’s sitting in the engineering building between classes having a snack when Mingyu approaches him with another request. The two guys from yesterday are with him again, but they look less confused now. Wonwoo has since learned that their names are Seokmin and Jihoon. Wonwoo’s not terribly surprised that Boo Seungkwan is with them today too. He assumes he didn’t track him down for nothing. 

Mingyu looks annoyed. “You owe me one,” he reminds and Wonwoo calls his bluff right away. 

“I don’t. Finding him,” Wonwoo points to Seungkwan while wiping his eyes, “was your favor. We’re even now. Besides, I’m swamped. I can’t possibly pick up another project on the side.”

“It doesn’t have to be pretty. Keep it simple. I just need to have access to an admin account,” Seungkwan smoothly says. 

“You know I’ve never built anything like that, right? Existing vendors keep a tight lid on how their algorithm works for a reason,” Wonwoo argues. 

“It doesn’t have to be complex. Plus, that’s why the admin account is necessary. I want to manipulate the matches on occasion,” Seungkwan insists. 

Wonwoo blankly looks between the four men because he can’t believe they’re so serious, finally landing on his roommate. “Tell me right now why you’re asking me to build a dating app. Is this for your ‘psych’ project too?” He asks jokingly, but loses all humor when Mingyu nods. 

“We should just tell him,” Jihoon insists to Mingyu. “Surely he doesn’t like her either.”

Mingyu frowns for a moment. Eventually, he asks, “How would you like to help us take down Choi Y/N?” 

Wonwoo did not want to. Don’t get him wrong, he didn’t care much for her, but he didn’t hate her and didn’t really care to give her anymore attention. “Sounds like some project… I’ll pass - on both your psych/revenge project and the dating app.”

Mingyu scoffs down at his roommate. “Please? What do you want for it?” 

“Money, at the very least. I’ll get very little satisfaction out of whatever you guys are planning, I’m sure,” Wonwoo says. He’s hoping they’ll drop it now. They’re all broke college students after all. Money is such a precious commodity.

So he’s amazed to see all of them shrug. “Name your price,” Seokmin says easily.

Wonwoo’s eyes are narrowed skeptically now. “Pay my part of the rent this month. I’m saving for a new PC.” He wants to laugh when they agree again. Those that aren’t his roommate don’t even ask how much it is. “Now, tell me what you guys were thinking.”

~ 

In the next two weeks, Seungkwan had changed his tone on the twitter account. It was subtle at first. A few words like, ‘Already?’ Or ‘She moves on fast,’ were peppered into a post occasionally. They wanted to see how well each post performed and what kind of comments they got based on the tone and word choices used. 

However, it became apparent that it didn’t matter that she was already done with Jaehyun and the guy after him, already spotted with another guy entirely. It didn’t seem like they were even getting the typical three dates. But the interaction stats stayed about the same, as did the comments. Encouraging, begging, and overwhelmingly supportive. The group is forced to rethink their approach while Wonwoo finishes the dating app. 

“Why does everyone fall for it?” Jihoon laments, scrolling through the account. 

“She’s charming,” Seungkwan replies easily. He’s not stressed about any of this because his account is doing well and his app is on the way. That means that anytime now he can start on his own plan to set up as many horrible matches as possible. He’s going to be writing a ‘bad date’ column in the student paper and while there are surely plenty of those out there already, a few more wouldn’t hurt. “You guys fell for it too.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Seokmin said solemnly. He had already drafted up the alternative proposal for their project in preparation for all of this to fail. It didn’t feel great to talk so much about Y/N either since it was still a sore subject for him.

“I don’t know. There has to be someone impervious to her charm,” Mingyu sighed, long giving up on scrolling. 

Seungkwan laughed and it made the three of them snap their heads to him. “Just pay someone for it. It seems that you guys aren’t above that and surely someone wouldn’t mind to make a buck.”

Seokmin looks doubtful. “You think we should find a plant?”

“Sure. When I have my admin account I can even make sure they match,” Seungkwan shrugs. None of them really have to ask if Y/N will even download the app when it’s available. They know she will because she’s on all of the other dating apps.

“Who would we even draft for that sort of thing? She doesn’t go back to people after the fact, so it would have to be someone that has never dated her. That might be a short list,” Mingyu insists. 

“I’d say find someone new to the university, like a freshman, but that’s not typically her style. But a transfer could work?” Seungkwan suggests. 

Wonwoo slides into the seat next to Mingyu, interrupting them. “Some of the logic you asked for has been a pain in the ass, but you’ll be able to try it out tomorrow with some test data,” he tells Seungkwan, who immediately looks pleased. 

“Wonwoo, would you know how to find a list of incoming male students? Not necessarily freshman,” Jihoon asks.

Wonwoo looks at him blankly. “This is getting very expensive for you guys. But yes,” Wonwoo admits, resigned. “My work study is in the university’s IT office. It’s all in a database.”

“Would you mind pulling us a list?” Mingyu asks, giving his most charming smile. 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, flatly saying, “Go get me lunch. I’ll see what I can do.” As Mingyu hops up, Wonwoo sighs, getting out his laptop. He’s beginning to regret whatever he’s agreed to and doesn’t wish to know anymore about what they’re using all of this for. 

But ten minutes later, he still slides his computer to them and they crowd around. He’s given them a spreadsheet with the student name, declared major, and current credit hours achieved. They’re meticulous about going through the list of approximately twenty people. They eliminate most for various reasons after looking them up and come back to one in particular. 

“Joshua Hong.  He has enough credits to be a senior. Isn’t that weird to transfer so late?” Seokmin asks. They all agree, but Wonwoo doesn’t have access to anything prior to him being enrolled here at the moment so it remains a mystery as to why Joshua’s transferred so late.

“He’s a biology major though. That could work in our favor because Y/N is too,” Seungkwan adds. “Plus, he’s attractive enough to be her type.” He shows them Joshua’s Instagram account and they have to agree. He’s handsome. 

“Worth a try…” Mingyu murmurs, before turning to Wonwoo to grin again. “Do you have access to his class schedule? And Y/N’s for that matter?”

Wonwoo stares for a long moment before sighing. “Go get me an iced americano.” He watches Seokmin jump up this time and Wonwoo really is regretting what he’s gotten himself into. 

~

Joshua feels eyes on him. He’s in the courtyard near the Science building, working on an assignment between classes, but he keeps getting this tingle up his spine that he can’t explain. He’s glanced around the courtyard but doesn’t see anyone that looks particularly interested in him. 

Until there’s a tap on his shoulder, that is. There are few guys there and he has no idea where they came from or how they snuck up on him. Joshua tries to smile politely but he’s confused. It’s not like people had been unfriendly, but being new means most people don’t approach you first. Everyone already has their cliques and it’s unlikely Joshua will be invited into the fold of any of them. It’s a completely expected hazard of transferring as a senior. “Hi? Can I help you?” He asks. His eyes widen when the three of them sit down at the table with him without an invitation. 

“Joshua, right?” One guy says, but he doesn’t really wait for an answer. “I’m Kim Mingyu.” 

Ah. That rings a bell because Joshua was wondering where he’d seen him before. Joshua had waited on him at work once before. “Uh, yeah! Nice to meet you.”

Mingyu gives a charming smile. The guy is charismatic, Joshua will give him that. “This is Jihoon and Seokmin. We were wondering if you could help us with something.” 

Joshua is starting to feel a little suspicious, but he nods slowly, “Maybe. What is it?”

No one says anything right away and his suspicion is growing. Finally, Jihoon speaks up. Joshua thinks he also recognizes him from serving him at work too, now that he thinks about it. “Have you had the pleasure of meeting Choi Y/N yet?”

Joshua’s eyes narrow because Jihoon doesn’t say it like it’s really a pleasure. “Not personally, no… we have a couple classes together, but I’ve never spoken to her.” 

“What do you think about her so far?” Mingyu prompts.

Joshua must look totally confused but they seem to actually be waiting on an answer. So he shrugs nonchalantly. “She’s pretty and seems friendly enough, but she seems like a bit of a flirt.” That earns three scoffs and his eyes widen. “I’m totally lost, guys. Why are you asking me this?”

“Just trying to get a read on if you’ll be willing to help us,” Mingyu says casually. 

“I’d prefer you not beat around the bush and just ask for the favor,” Joshua insists. He doesn’t care for their riddles or quizzes. Plus, he really wanted to finish this assignment because he works tonight.

When Seokmin speaks, Joshua’s jaw drops. Then he laughs at how absurd the pitch is. He can’t help it. “You guys can’t be serious.”

“Very serious. She’s played all of us and she’ll keep playing people until someone does something about it,” Mingyu snaps and the intensity of it surprises Joshua. Mingyu must not have taken it well when she ended things, much like Minghao said she would. 

“And you want me to, as you say, ‘reel her in and dump her’.” It’s not a question because he’s just repeating what Seokmin said a few moments ago. “Also, why me? There are a ton of guys that would be all over the opportunity to spend some time with her. I’ve seen it myself.”

“You’re new and just her type. She doesn’t go back to someone once she dumps them, so it has to be someone totally new to the scene,” Jihoon insists. 

“Uh huh,” Joshua says, totally unconvinced. “So, what? I ask her out, take her on a few dates, and then tell her I’m not interested?” 

“Yes!” The three of them cry like they’re thrilled he gets it and Joshua’s eyes go wide again. 

“You didn’t even ask if I was single,” Joshua laughs humorlessly. He thinks they must be clinically insane. 

“Your Instagram screams ‘single’,” Mingyu deadpans. Joshua doesn’t really have an answer for that because he is, in fact, very single. But he is increasingly disturbed by the thought they’ve put into this, including stalking his social media to know that. “Look, what do you want for it? We’re open to making a deal.”

Joshua can’t believe they’re so serious. Their animosity towards Y/N is overpowering and totally toxic. “There’s nothing wrong with dating around. She must not feel like she’s found the right person yet.”

“Yeah, you kind of have to give it more than a few dates to be sure of that though. She barely gets to know anyone,” Jihoon presses. 

It makes Joshua laugh again. “Have you ever considered that the guys that chase after her are walking red flags and she can see that within just a few dates?” He recognizes he could be offending all three of them, but he finds he doesn’t care much. Yes, she’s a flirt and seems a little flighty, but what they’re talking about doing in response is so… malicious. 

“I can’t believe you’re taking her side,” Mingyu looks stunned. “You should see the way she’s done this since she got here. I wouldn’t be surprised if she did it before, too. She’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing and she deserves to be exposed for it.”

“And how are you going to expose her for that? If I do anything, which I haven’t agreed to, it would be a few dates before I cut it off. That’s it. I’m not out to publicly humiliate anyone. How badly do you want to tear this poor girl apart?” Joshua asks sympathetically and he can see it burns all three of them up inside. 

“Show him,” Seokmin demands. Mingyu opens his phone, sliding it to Joshua. 

He wants to laugh because it’s an account on twitter. This feels a little too ‘Gossip Girl’ for him. But the more he scrolls, he sees that Choi Y/N is the Serena Van Der Woodson and Blair Waldorf of the account rolled into one. The post dates are alarmingly close, even occasionally overlapping, between sightings of her with a different guy nearly every time. Posts about her go back to early last semester and he stops scrolling because he’s sure there’s more beyond it. 

Joshua pushes the phone back to Mingyu with a sigh. “Look, I’m not totally unsympathetic about this. Getting dumped sucks. But this can only go wrong. It might hurt her, yes, and we can argue about whether she deserves it. But this could easily blow up in everyone’s faces. The collateral damage isn’t worth this. Just stop worrying about her or giving her attention.”

The three are silent and Joshua is relieved to see he has to go. He tells them it was nice to meet them, which feels a little like a lie, and packs up his things. Minghao would certainly laugh about Joshua’s weird afternoon later. 

~

Not for the first time, Joshua thinks that the world works in mysterious ways. He’s in his Biostats class, still reeling from the conversation in the courtyard, when the instructor announces they’ll be doing an in-class assignment with a partner today. And what do you know? He’s been randomly assigned to Y/N. 

He has to admit she’s pretty charming when she slides into the seat next to him and smiles. “Joshua, is it? Are you new? I haven’t really seen you around before.” 

Joshua nods, giving a polite smile in return. “Yes. I just transferred.” He busies himself with pulling up the dataset they would be working with today. They get to work and he can totally understand why she has men lining up. He was already aware that she was pretty, but she was incredibly intelligent and quick witted as well. He keeps a polite smile on his face but tries not to feed into it. He might think that those three insane guys were a little too intense about their plot for revenge, but he doesn’t want to be roped in. 

However, they’re such an efficient team that they finish their assignment with nearly ten minutes left of class. He kind of expects Y/N to turn and talk to one of her friends or one of the many guys that are dramatically letting their partner down with all the staring they’re doing. Or at the very least, he kind of expects her to pick up her phone that’s been buzzing on the desk the whole time with notifications. 

Instead, she smiles at him. “So, are you pre med?” 

Another polite smile. “Yes. Are you?” 

She’s grinning now. “Yeah! I’m actually going to do an internship at the hospital next semester in the ER.”

Joshua is entertained by her enthusiasm and it could certainly be totally disarming. “I’m jealous. Not of the ER, to be clear. Just the internship.”

“You should apply!” Y/N encourages. “They have openings in a few departments. I can send you the link, if you’d like.”

He recognizes this for what it is immediately. He has his laptop open still and she could just pull it up for him in a new tab. Instead, she wants some way to contact him. 

But he knows how to ignore a message or block someone, so he slides her his unlocked phone. He could actually use the link anyway. She’s practiced at this sort of exchange, because she’s handing it back in moments. “I’ll send it to you later,” she promises. 

Joshua is relieved when the instructor dismisses class. He totally gets now why she has so much power. When she sends him the link with a short message later, he just responds with a ‘Thanks,” and a thumbs up, shutting down any further conversation. 

He’s met someone like her before and he won’t be falling for it again anytime soon. 

~

Jeonghan is holding Y/N’s head to his chest at their usual table in the library, and normally that would be nice of him to support one of his oldest friends and arguably his best friend, except for the fact that it’s totally patronizing. “My poor baby, I’m sorry you’re having a bad week.” 

Y/N scoffs in his chest but doesn’t push him away. There would be no point because then he’d start pinching her cheeks and cooing in her face. “You’re the worst. You don’t have an ounce of sympathy for me.”

“I do,” Jeonghan lies through his teeth, stroking her hair. “It’s just really funny and I wish I’d been there for all of it.” 

It seems that Y/N had pissed someone off. She wasn’t sure who, but in the last three weeks she’d been pranked on no less than five occasions. The firsts two were at the sorority house, so she hadn’t realized she was the primary target yet. Someone TP’d their house one night and just when the university’s custodial staff had cleaned it up and they thought they were safe, there was a smell creeping into the house. It was subtle at first, just small whiffs of it every now and then when you walk through the house. They clean the drains, wipe down the kitchen and bathrooms thoroughly, and take out the trash more frequently. But the smell begins to permeate every room. 

Pest control comes out and finds nothing, despite crawling through the attic and the unfinished basement which includes a crawl space. The tech thinks it’s coming from the vents but finds nothing there either. So the house mother calls an HVAC tech to come take a look. He crawls around in the vents as well and doesn’t find anything… before finally finding a dead fish in the AC unit outside, roasting in the heat of late summer. The girls have to keep the windows open with fans at full blast for days to get the smell out. Inconveniently, their security cameras didn’t catch anything for either event. 

A couple days later, Y/N meets Lee Chan in front of the Science building and they walk in together. She’s tutored a lot of people in her time here, but he’s her favorite after just a few weeks, hands down. They’re idly chatting as they walk upstairs and into the TA office, which is empty with the lights off. They get unpacked and Y/N’s butt barely touches the seat when an air horn goes off. She and Chan are totally scared shitless at such a sound at 8:30 in the morning, but sure enough, there’s an air horn under her rolling chair, set to go off as soon as she sits. Chan helps her remove it along with the duct tape from the leg of the chair and they laugh about such a juvenile prank despite their hearts racing. 

A couple days later, she comes in for her office hours after lunch. She’s greeting the girl she’ll be tutoring in physics today as she pumps some hand sanitizer into her palm. When she starts to rub her hands together, something doesn’t feel right. It’s sticky in a way that the alcohol content in hand sanitizer shouldn’t be and then it’s quickly drying in chunks. She’s horrified to realized that the container has been replaced with glue. Even though she washes her hands half a dozen times in the bathroom down the hall, she still can’t touch the poor girl’s paper or textbook without it sticking to her. Her sorority sisters tell her that night that nothing like that has happened to them and Y/N realizes she must be the main target. 

The most recent thing happened just this morning. Chan had met her again outside and when they flipped the light on in the office, there was a present sitting there. It’s wrapped nicely and it even has her name on it. She’s immediately suspicious and finds out quickly she had every right to be. Chan hands her a ruler from her desk drawer and she stands at arms length to flip the lid open - only to suddenly be covered in glitter. 

It occurs to her that Jeonghan might be dusting some of that glitter out of her hair instead of nicely stroking it to soothe her and she scoffs, finally pushing him away. She’d had time to stop by the house and change clothes, but not enough to shower. She sparkles a little every time she moves. “It’s not funny, Hannie. I don’t know what I did to deserve this!” 

“I don’t know. Maybe you pissed off the wrong person. Want me to look into it?” Jeonghan offers. She knows he’s serious about looking into it despite the hard time he’s just given her. He keeps glancing around them at the library every now and then and she’s getting a lot of looks. That’s because somehow all of these events have ended up on that stupid gossip twitter. She’s not sure how that’s happened, but people seem to be enjoying her suffering. Some of the comments have turned kind of mean and she’s getting tagged in each post dozens of times with laughing/crying emojis. Jeonghan had quietly taken her phone from her hands and closed out of the app when he found her scrolling through it earlier. 

“I think you need to find a new guy to take the heat off of all of this,” he says and she can’t tell if he’s joking or not. He’s never discouraged her dating, but he’s never openly encouraged it either. He usually says good luck like any good friend would when she announces she has a date and that’s it. 

She groans, swiping a hand down her arm to dust a couple specks of glitter off. “Yeah, that’s not going well either.”

Jeonghan gives her a perplexed look. “What do you mean? Just pick someone.” She doesn’t answer him so he raises an eyebrow. “Is there someone in particular?”

Y/N can’t help the pout that falls onto her lips. “There’s a guy in a couple of my classes but he doesn’t seem interested.” 

This intrigues Jeonghan because he’s never heard of such a thing before. “Have you asked him if he is? Maybe he’s just shy.”

“I don’t think so. He’s easy to talk to, but every time I drop hints he either misses them or ignores him, but I can’t tell which. Besides, I’m used to being asked rather than doing the asking. He’s cute and smart and totally disinterested,” Y/N says, totally deflating now. 

Jeonghan snorted. “Unlikely. Give it a little bit for him to warm up. Now, help me with this stupid math homework. I definitely didn’t listen yesterday in class.”

~

Joshua is paired up with Y/N again in class. She smiles when she sits down next to him but it’s not the normal thousand-watt smile that he and everyone else usually gets. He doesn’t ask and they start with their dataset. He’s having trouble with a formula when Y/N offers to help. He lets her pull the laptop to her and he watches her fingers fly over the keyboard. Her confidence at this is impressive, but that’s not what gets his attention. 

“Doing some art projects lately?” He muses lightly. She glances down at her hands and then huffs, wiping them on her skirt. 

“No, someone sent me a glitter bomb yesterday. I don’t think I’ll ever get all of it off. I’ll be sparkling for years to come,” she answers with much less enthusiasm than usual. 

Joshua can’t help but laugh outright because it sounds so absurd. “A glitter bomb? Why in the world would someone do that?”

Y/N glances at him and he can tell she’s clearly faking her amusement, kind of like she doesn’t just know how to let herself frown. “I don’t know, but it’s one of many pranks lately.” She slides the laptop back to him but he doesn’t take it back. 

There’s this nagging feeling in his chest and he’s not sure why, so he asks, “Does this happen to you often?” 

Y/N laughs humorlessly. “No. First someone TP’d the sorority house and put a dead fish in the AC unit. Then the air horn under the chair, and the glue in the hand sanitizer bottle, and then the glitter bomb yesterday. I’m not sure what I did, but someone’s having a lot of fun. It’s all ended up on that stupid gossip twitter account too.”

“A little overboard, huh?” He says sympathetically, and he might not be her biggest fan but he means it. Someone’s got a vendetta against her, that’s for sure. 

That nagging feeling doesn’t go away as he’s walking back to his dorm after class. On a whim, he opens twitter. Y/N didn’t lie, every single event she mentioned is on there, some with photos or videos in which she looks mortified. When he opens some of the comments, he thinks it’s no wonder she seems so miserable, even if these are technically harmless pranks. Some people are really enjoying this. He gathers that Y/N is usually pretty refined and put together, not a single hair out of place. She doesn’t look very refined walking out of an office covered in glitter or holding her hands out in front of her while they’re covered in glue. 

Joshua pockets his phone and looks around campus as he strolls. He spots some familiar figures in the courtyard and that nagging feeling is back. Enough for him to stop In the grass and watch them. They’re laughing really hard about something as they’re crowded around a computer. 

Joshua takes the long way to them, creeping up behind their backs. They’re watching the video of Y/N after the glitter bomb. 

“I should have known,” he says sternly. They wheel around to him fast and Jihoon slams his laptop shut. “Having a little prank war, are you? Actually, it doesn’t really count as a war if she can’t fight back.”

“She deserves it,” Mingyu says smugly, not bothering to deny it. “Didn't you see it?”

“Sure did, as well as the aftermath.” Joshua refuses to elaborate. “I think you’ve made your point a few times over. You have your experiment results.”

Seokmin shakes his head in confusion. “Why are you defending her? You’ve seen the twitter account.”

“Yeah, which is trash from what I can see,” Joshua insists. They look so put out by the statement that Joshua frowns. “Don’t tell me you’re behind that too.” Their silence is answer enough. Besides, they’re focused on something else now. Joshua turns to see what it is. 

Y/N is walking into the student union with yet another guy. This one looks at her just as adoringly as the others. Jihoon is cursing. “Oh, come on. A freshman?” 

“You know him?” Seokmin asks.

“He’s in the same department as me, just as a dance major. He’s a nice kid. She’s going to eat him alive,” Jihoon huffed. 

The other three are ranting about it, but Joshua watches the couple closely. Whatever defense he had for her is fading fast. He remembers being the innocent freshman three years ago. He remembers getting eaten alive over and over by one girl - a pretty upper class man who could smile and bat her eyes to get whatever she wanted. He remembers having to move across the world and transfer schools to keep it from consuming him. The poor kid looks in love and he knows the look because he wore it for nearly three years while he thought things were going to get better. 

He’s also remembering the way Y/N tried to worm her way into a conversation the first time they had to work together in class. The charm was undeniable and it kind of felt like twisting the knife now that he thought about it because she was really just like Lily in so many ways. 

Joshua grits his teeth, turning back to the three guys. “Tell me your plan again?”

They all look shocked. “I thought you weren’t interested in helping us,” Mingyu starts. 

“I’ll consider it, if your plan is any good, that is,” Joshua snaps, sitting down at the table, looking at them expectantly. 

Finally, Jihoon opens his laptop again, clicking a few things. Then he flips it to Joshua. “This isn’t the version that we’ve submitted for our psych experiment. This more of an… unofficial document.”

Joshua scrolls and they let him. About thirty seconds later, he flips it back to Jihoon. “Where do we start?”

Act Two

Joshua downloads the app as soon as it hits the gossip twitter, which he now follows. He thinks it’s pretty rudimentary, but they assured him it just needed to be functional and they could pretty it up as their developer had time if it was really that important. 

Later that afternoon, he meets Boo Seungkwan, and Joshua is convinced he might be evil. Seungkwan cackles loudly when he sees that Y/N has already set up an account too. Then there’s the low maniacal giggling that he does when he gets into his admin app. Seconds later, Joshua has a match. 

Between all this evil laughter, the other three are grilling him on his dating experience. He’s vague about his answers. First, it’s none of their business, really. Second, Joshua already has an inkling that Y/N is interested and is just waiting to be asked out. He plans to make her work for it a little before he gives her much. 

The first message comes through within minutes of Seungkwan making the match and it makes Joshua laugh. The others try to crowd around his phone, but he pushes them away. They don’t need to know his methods. 

And his first method is to let the message sit there marked as read for a while. Two days in fact. At their next biostats class, they thankfully just have a lecture, but he can feel someone looking at him from across the room every now and then. 

Finally, he responds with something casual. ‘Hey Y/N, sorry I missed this message.’ It’s a classic get-out-of-trouble card and he knows it worked when she replies immediately with, ‘No big deal!’ She then proceeds to try to start a conversation and he stays ‘busy’ for the next couple weeks, only replying to her sparingly. 

During the next in-class project, Y/N slides into the seat next to him and smiles, but it looks a tad insecure compared to how it normally looks. Joshua grins at her when he greets her and she lights up like a Christmas tree. He’s pleased because it’s taken very little work to have her in the palm of his hand. 

He waits another week to make another move and it’s probably not the move that she wanted. At approximately 11:30pm, he sends her a message on the app that says, ‘You up?’ He cringes when he sends it, but the thing is, she needs to feel like a last resort, or at least one of many options. When she replies, he’s suddenly busy and doesn’t answer her back. 

He does this two more times over the next couple weeks, messaging her first and then dodging her. On the fourth time, he finally takes her up on her offer. He feels like an asshole when he shows up at the sorority house in the middle of the night on Thursday because he’s kind of winging this part. He considers showing up but acting totally disinterested in being there. Maybe he’ll even scroll through Seungkwan’s dating app in front of her, where he has other matches. 

He’s so busy thinking about his next move that he really doesn’t expect to be pushed against her bedroom door after she sneaks him in. Y/N has her body pushed flush up against his, lips attacking his own in a desperate kiss. 

Joshua decides he hates her. Hates how she’s pouted at his disinterest and stared him down in every class they share because he’s not giving in to her. Hates how he’s seen her shut down every single guy for two weeks because it seems like she’s actually into him. Hates how crushed those guys look when she politely turns them down.  Hates how if he really does give in to her, he’ll have to work faster than her.

He particularly hates how he immediately responds to her touch, rock hard in his sweats. She’s attractive and he’s not blind. And there’s something that lights his veins on fire with how desperate she seems for his attention. She’s not used to having to wait for what she wants and he has half a mind to make her wait longer. Maybe he doesn’t even have to date her. Walking away from her now, or even after he sleeps with her, would get the message across too. 

But he hates her and hates how nice she feels against him and there’s something really passionate about his hate. So he swings her around and it’s her turn to be pushed against the door. Her mouth opens and she looks like she’s holding back a moan. Joshua’s body is totally pressed against hers now and he leans down to her ear. “You know how to be quiet, right? Don’t want to wake up your roommates, do we?” 

The words are taunting but they have an immediate affect on her. Her eyes get wide, lips pouting. She kind of looks like she might cry and he’s enjoying that far too much. “Yes, I’ll be quiet.” 

And she tried really hard. He thinks it’s actually pretty cute how obedient she is. He tells her to strip and she does. He tells her to get on her knees in front of him and she does. He tells her to stick out her tongue so he can push his cock inside her mouth and she does. Somewhere deep down, he realizes he’s being unfair because she seems to really be into him, but he can’t resist the opportunity to have her at his beck and call like this.

When he has her bent over her desk, she covers her mouth to muffle the sounds that are spilling out. When he has her on her back with her legs pushed to her chest, she covers her mouth then too. She really tries, but he has to cover her mouth himself to keep her quiet when he has her face down on the bed. She comes hard and he hates her for it because it feels too good around him.

Joshua is gettting dressed when she finally speaks up. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” 

He finds himself casually agreeing because he’s already decided he’s going to enjoy this a lot more than he thought. 

~

Minghao is sitting in their dorm room, watching his roommate with a raised eyebrow. Joshua is dressed nicely and he’s just meticulously fixed his hair and applied cologne. “Going somewhere?” Minghao asks lightly. 

“I have a date,” Joshua says and Minghao quirks an eyebrow. He doesn’t sound overjoyed about this date. 

“Oh? With who?” Minghao asks. He doesn’t actually care much. Joshua seems like a good guy but he wouldn’t say their particularly close since moving in together. 

“Choi Y/N.”

Minghao nearly spits out his tea all over his computer. “Come again?”

“I have a date with Choi Y/N,” Joshua says easily. 

“Mhm,” Minghao hums. “So I did hear you right. How did that happen?”

Joshua is so casual when he says, “We have a couple classes together. She asked me out after we hooked up.”

“Uh huh,” Minghao nods slowly. “Be careful with that. She’s kind of like playing with fire from what I hear.”

When Joshua smirks at him, Minghao is kind of taken aback. Joshua is usually pretty even-tempered from what he can tell and is very friendly. There’s something a little dark about his look right now. “I can handle it. Besides, I don’t expect it to last.”

“Okay,” Minghao drags out. Joshua slips on shoes and says bye. Something doesn’t feel right about this, but it’s really none of Minghao’s business. 

~

Joshua joins the troublemakers as he’s affectionately calling them for lunch the day after his date with Y/N. They want the full rundown, even though they were creeping in a booth across the restaurant watching them the whole time. They said they wanted to get a picture for the twitter account, but they didn’t have a good answer when Joshua said not everyone had to go for that. They’re just nosy. 

A few things became apparent about Y/N quickly. The first is that her mood swings wildly depending on the type of attention she’s getting. She likes to be liked. When Joshua responds to her too casually or even coldly, she deflates. When he warms up and gives her a shred of positive attention, she re-inflates, smiling widely. Joshua thinks this is a good thing. Mixed signals may keep her on the hook for longer now that he sees how she responds. 

The second is that she is a hopeless romantic. She likes to hold hands as they walk, swinging them cutely. She beams at him when he does quite literally anything gentlemanly, like walking on the outside of the sidewalk next to the street or holding a door open for her. Joshua thinks this is also a good thing. Those things come naturally to him anyway, so if she’s ever worried about how casual or cold he appears, these little things seem to negate how she feels about that. Again, the goal is to keep her on the hook until he’s ready to let her go. 

The third thing is that she seems to have no clue that her actions have consequences. She’s still clueless about who is pulling the pranks, which have continued and Joshua has even participated in a couple, and she laments that she feels like she’s a nice person and doesn’t deserve any of it. Joshua does everything to bite his tongue and not give away how frustrated he is by her lack of awareness. She is totally oblivious to the effect her short-lived romances have on people and it solidifies the need to give her a taste of her own medicine. 

Because, not that Joshua tells the troublemakers, but there were a few moments during their date that he had to remind himself of why he was here. Those moments were usually when she grinned at him or laughed. She’s a charismatic person and, whether she realizes it or not, she uses it as a weapon constantly. Joshua has to make an active effort to not let it suck him in.

He’s the one that asks her out for the second date while they’re talking after class and he feels smug when she immediately agrees with a big smile. This date is on Saturday and he’s super sweet the whole time. He even wonders if he’s overdone it, but he realizes she’s turned kind of shy. Cute. Also, totally unexpected but will work in his favor. When they stop at the front door of the sorority house, she asks if he wants to come in. He gets a ton of satisfaction out of saying that he’s sorry but he can’t. He watches her face fall, before she’s smiling that slightly insecure smile again, wishing him good night. 

On the third date, he’s back to being mostly disinterested and he has to bite back a smile as she works overtime over dinner to warm him up. He gives her bits and pieces and they work flawlessly. Again, he declines her request to come inside when he drops her off. He’s not interested in sleeping with her again, though he did enjoy how eager she was to please. 

He considers cutting it off right there on the door step of the sorority house. The troublemakers that have dated her gave him a script and asked him to use it when he does finally cut it off. He thinks better of it and wishes her a good night. On the way back to the dorm, he decides to continue with this as long as he feels it’s going well. It’s feeding a need for vengeance as much as it’s healing an open wound of his. He wishes he could pull something like this on Lily, but he also kind of hopes to never see her again. Y/N was the next best thing.

~

Wonwoo joins Mingyu and his group members for lunch and immediately regrets it. They’ve been gossiping like hens for weeks now and normally Wonwoo would love to stay out of it. He’s learned to tune it out for the most part, but he’s kind of alarmed at the excitement they all have when a strange guy shows up. They introduce him as Joshua. 

“So how’d it go? When are you breaking it off?” Mingyu whisper-yells. They’re in the quad and they don’t want their little plot to get out. 

Joshua gives an unsettling smile. “I don’t think I will yet.” 

“So you think she’s still on the hook?” Jihoon asks excitedly. 

“Almost certain of it,” Joshua responds. 

Wonwoo watches and listens for the duration of lunch, a sick feeling settling in his stomach. Joshua describes in great detail how the last date went and they’re all thrilled. Y/N is certainly not his favorite person, but he feels like this has gone so far beyond a little taste of revenge. He understands that some of them were upset by being dumped, but they seem to want to tear Y/N limb from limb. 

He’s lost in thought when he shows up for his work study. His supervisor tells him there’s someone that needs help troubleshooting an issue on their computer, so Wonwoo shrugs and goes to the repair room. He thinks god must hate him when it’s Y/N that’s sitting there. She gives him an apologetic smile that lacks all of her usual flair. 

“I’ve tried everything. Hopefully you can help me?”

Wonwoo sits across from her, taking her laptop. “What’s the issue?” 

“It won’t power on. My power cord is fine because I tried it on one of my roommates’ computers and the outlet I was using works for a lamp.” Wonwoo is surprised at her answer, or rather how thorough it is. He’s used to the basic ‘I don’t know, it’s just broken’. 

He’s starts by trying a standalone power cord at the work desk and booting it up in safe mode. She’s right though. The screen stays dark. “Might need a new battery,” he mumbles. She sighs. Technically, he’s done everything he’s required to do. It’s not a university laptop and there are limitations to what the department will do for personal devices. But he finds himself saying, “I think I have a couple spare ones we can try though. If that doesn’t work, they can give you a loaner out front until you can get a new one.” She smiles, looking a little relieved at the news, so he tacks on,  “No promises about the battery though.”

He gets the spare battery and begins opening the back of the laptop. He would usually not chatter while he works on something like this, but he remembers how his lunch went and his stomach is still churning. “Is this keeping you from working on a lot right now?”

Y/N huffs. “Yeah, it’s really bad timing actually. Isn’t it always, though? I have a research paper due tomorrow and I hope it’s still there if we can get this back on. I also have a ton of assignments to grade for the class I TA for.” 

Wonwoo hums in sympathy, but then he frowns once he gets the back panel off of the laptop. The battery is just… gone. So are the prongs that would activate the battery. They’ve been ripped out. There’s not much he can do about that.

Y/N must be able to tell that things aren’t looking good. “What is it?”

Wonwoo grimaces, looking up at her. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but a new battery won’t fix it. Your laptop has been sabotaged.” She looks like she might cry when she sees the jagged spot where the prongs used to be. The crying isn’t a new thing here when they can’t fix something. It usually happens at midterms and finals when everyone is in crunch time. Wonwoo has had to give the bad news that someone’s laptop is shot more than once and he totally gets the reaction. 

Except he’s feeling a lot of sympathy for her because now she is crying. Sobbing even. Uncomfortably, Wonwoo reaches over the work desk and pats her shoulder a couple times. “It’ll be okay. Like I said, loaners are available until you can replace this.” He isn’t sure she even heard him at first, but then she’s wiping her eyes, makeup smearing.  He silently hands her a tissue. 

“I’m sorry. It’s been a tough semester so far. This is probably another in a series of pranks. The thing is, I can’t afford to replace it right now. It was one thing when it was glue in hand sanitizer or a glitter bomb, but I don’t have the kind of money to get a new computer.”

Wonwoo feels like he might be consumed by guilt now. He’s sat by idly all semester so far while his roommate and others have tormented her. He thinks she’s right. A little glitter (or a lot of glitter based on the video on twitter) is one thing. The custodians can vacuum and Y/N can shower and wash her clothes. But this is property damage that can’t be fixed. 

Wonwoo decides a few things at once. The first thing is that he’ll bend the rules for Y/N. The loaner laptops suck and most can’t last a single class on battery alone. Plus, they sound like a plane taking off when they’re on. But the department stashes new devices for staff and employees that can be issued by the university if they need it. He’s usually the one to keep inventory and no one with miss it. 

He gets up and comes back and places the laptop and power cord in front of Y/N. “This one’s better than the loaners. Just get it back to me when you can before it’s missed too much.” 

Y/N is still tearful when she thanks him profusely. He pats her a couple more times on the shoulder when she leaves. He also offers to dispose of the trashed laptop, but at the end of his shift he shoves it into his backpack instead. 

When he gets home, he sits down at his PC, making just a few clicks. This is the second thing he’s decided to do. The texts start to flow in quickly but he ignores them. However, he can’t ignore Mingyu when he busts into his room. 

“Did you get our texts?! The app is down.”

“I know,” Wonwoo says, not taking his eyes off of the video game in front of him. 

“What’s wrong with it? How long until it will be back up?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I took it down and I won’t be putting it back up.”

He hears Mingyu stutter. “Why would you do that? We had a deal.” 

Slowly, Wonwoo pressed pause on his game and turned to face Mingyu. He’s lived with him for over two years now and thought he knew him pretty well, but he doesn’t really recognize him anymore. “I refuse to play a role in torturing that poor girl anymore. I know I can’t do much to stop whatever else you do outside of the app, but you won’t be able to use it as a tool anymore.”

Mingyu stammers. “But we had a deal! And since when is she a ‘poor girl’? She’s a monster.”

“She’s a poor girl when you guys prank her over and over again, up to destroying her laptop. I’m doing you a favor by not reporting that, by the way. And then whatever you guys are doing with Joshua. You might not like her, but I don’t think she’d ever be as cruel as you guys are being,” Wonwoo snaps. He’s up out of his chair, dragging the broken laptop out of his bag and slamming it down on his bed. The back is still off with the battery still very much missing. 

Mingyu scoffs like he doesn’t feel guilty at all and it disgusts Wonwoo. Mingyu doesn’t try to deny anything about the laptop, barely glancing at it. “Like she can’t afford another one. All she has to do is ask her daddy for a new one.”

“Really? Because when she was crying her eyes out in my repair room earlier, she said she couldn’t afford to replace it. You guys are tricking her with Joshua and pranking her relentlessly - fine, get your revenge. But now you’re destroying property and jeopardizing her academics and work study. Where’s the fucking line, Mingyu?”

“There is no line,” Mingyu snapped heatedly. “We don’t need your help anyway. We’ve got it handled on our own.” With that, Mingyu marched out, slamming Wonwoo’s door. 

Wonwoo stared off into space before a long time before finally closing out of his game. The third thing that he decided was that he would be trying to take down that damned twitter account again. 

~

Seungcheol is concerned. 

He's always concerned for his sister, don’t get him wrong. She’s got such a soft heart that he’s always been protective of her. There’s also a little twin telepathy, so he knows something is up. He’s seen the pranks on the twitter account, and at first she’d laughed it off. She’s got a good sense of humor and can take a joke. 

He’s confused when he finds her at the gym, sitting in the bleachers with a new laptop. Well, maybe not new, but it’s different. They’d bought matching ones together a couple years ago when there was a deal and this is not the same one he has in his own bag. “New computer?”

She’s frowning behind the screen. She should really be getting ready for cheer practice in the locker room, but she doesn’t look like she’s moving anytime soon. “It’s a loaner. Someone sabotaged mine.”

“What?” Seungcheol hisses. “What do you mean someone sabotaged your laptop? Do you know who?” He should also be in the locker room now preparing for basketball practice, but he’s rooted in his spot. 

“No,” Y/N said glumly. “Probably the same person that’s done the rest of the pranks, if I had to guess.” She sighs, looking over the screen at Seungcheol. “Cheol, am I a bad person? Is that why this keeps happening?”

Seungcheol is sitting next to her immediately, hugging her. He feels her pain and he hates it. She’s usually so joyful. “No, of course not. I don’t know why you’re being targeted, everyone loves you.”

“Maybe not,” she laughs humorlessly. “I thought it was playful at first, but now I have to figure out how to replace this laptop so I can return it.” She says this into Seungcheol’s shoulder. 

Seungcheol hesitates, but finally says, “Why don’t you ask Appa? He’d send you a new one?” 

Just as he expected, she scoffs though, pulling away from him and wiping under her eyes. It looks like her makeup is long gone and it’s totally unlike her to be without it. “You know I won’t do that. I don’t want his money or anything else from him.” It has a bite to it that only comes out for this topic. Seungcheol is usually the one that is quick to anger, but he can’t hold a candle to Y/N’s anger when it comes to their father. 

“I know. You don’t have to be friendly. He likes to throw money at the problem though, and it could help here,” he says gently. 

“I don’t want a single red cent,” she huffs. A girl steps out of the women’s locker room and waves Y/N over. They must be waiting for her. She stuffs her things into her bag. “I’ll see you later. Don’t be late for practice,” she says as she starts climbing down the bleachers. 

He already is but it doesn’t matter. They won’t start without him. Most players are already out on the court, though they’re just goofing off. Seungcheol lets it slide, going into the locker room to change. He’s the only one in the aisle. He’s pulling on a shirt when he hears someone in the next aisle over. It sounds like Kim Mingyu and he must have answered his phone and naturally Seungcheol can only hear one side of the conversation.

“Hello? I can’t talk long, I’m late for practice… No,” Mingyu sighs. “Wonwoo wouldn’t turn the app back on. He’s being a prick, defending her. But it doesn’t matter.” 

Seungcheol is about to close his locker when something makes his blood run cold. He hears Mingyu say, “Joshua’s still got her on the hook. That’ll do for now until he dumps her.”

Seungcheol leans against the locker, clenching his fist. He’s pretty sure Joshua is the name of the guy that Y/N has been seeing. He debates on whipping around the corner to interrogate Kim Mingyu immediately, but he thinks better of it as his teammate hangs up and leaves. Maybe he’s misinterpreted the one sided conversation. He has no context, but he’s left unsettled. He knows Mingyu took Y/N dumping him hard. A lot of men do. But he’d never thought anyone would seek vengeance for something like that. 

While he debates on what to do during practice, he takes great enjoyment in making Kim Mingyu run laps. He always kind of hated the guy anyway. If Seungcheol’s right, this is just another reason. 

-

Y/N is elated when Seungcheol and Jeonghan invite she and Joshua for a triple date. She’s been on multiple dates with Joshua now and really likes him. When she tells her brother and best friend that, they say they’d love to meet him. 

So they’re at the movie theater on Friday night. The theater is running a showing of Night of the Living Dead and Y/N is so thrilled when Joshua smiles at her and agrees to go with them. She’s even more thrilled that he seems to enjoy the movie. He holds her hand but it’s not because she’s scared, or even because he is. The two sorority sisters, Byeol and Sora, that Seungcheol and Jeonghan are with don’t fare so well, but her brother and best friend remind her all the time that that’s the entire point. They want the girls to cling to them. 

They’re walking out of the theater when Joshua tells her he was reminded why it’s one of his favorite movies. Y/N can feel the heart eyes she’s wearing. 

Things seem to be going so well that she’s not even fazed when Seungcheol and Jeonghan start interrogating Joshua at dinner afterwards. Joshua is so poised and has an answer for everything. He’s a transfer student and is set to graduate next semester. He moved for a change of scenery. He’s pre-med like Y/N but he’s interested in internal medicine. He sheepishly says that Y/N got him in for an internship in that department in the hospital next semester. 

Y/N thinks it went so well that she’s totally stunned when Seungcheol and Jeonghan encourage her to break up with Joshua the following Monday. They don’t have any specific reasons, just that they don’t think he’s right for her. 

She’s staring at them blankly. They have to sit inside the stuffy library because it’s nearly November and it’s getting too cold. “What do you mean he’s not right for me? He seems perfect.”

“Too perfect, perhaps,” Seungcheol frowns at her, but there’s something about his eyes that give him away. He doesn’t like Joshua. 

“Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be? I mean if you find the right person, shouldn’t it be easy?” Y/N insisted. 

“Oh, you sweet summer child,” Jeonghan sighed and he actually looked like he was in a bit of pain at her naivety. “Look, Y/N, you know I love you right?” Y/N nods, because he might be a menace, but he’s always had her back and isn’t shy about telling her that. “You can ultimately do what you want, but something doesn’t feel right about this. I mean, can you name a single flaw of his?”

Y/N laughed. “Is being flawless a problem? You say you are all the time.”

Jeonghan doesn’t laugh though. He looks a little exasperated actually. “Yes, it’s a problem! I have a ton of flaws, starting with being in denial about having any flaws!”

Y/N frowns and finds she can’t look at them across the table. “I really like him. He’s nice, and funny, and a gentleman. What he wants for his future aligns with mine. And not that it’s important, but he’s great in bed.” Her eyes shoot up when the two men sigh. 

“Angel, when did you sleep with him? I thought we agreed to slow it down some,” Jeonghan asked, trying not to scold her. He was right, they had agreed that she’d be more careful. Jaehyun had talked a lot of game about how he would be getting with her and Jeonghan had insisted she break it off. He had said it was one thing if sex came with the admiration that most men had for her. But occasionally, some of them just wanted to hit it while they could because they viewed her as easy. Jeonghan and Seungcheol had worried for years that she’d eventually get taken advantage of because of her sweet, trusting nature. 

After the event with Jaehyun, Jeonghan had strongly suggested that she avoid sleeping with anyone that she was dating for a while. It seems that hadn’t mattered when it came to Joshua. 

“A while back, before we started dating,” Y/N finally admits. She kind of feels like a child when they both gave her admonishing looks and she can’t help but pout. “But then he agreed to go out with me when I asked!”

Another admonishing look for both of them, but increasing in intensity. Seungcheol’s eyes scream disappointment. “Honey, since when do you do the asking?”

Y/N didn’t really have a good answer for that, except for ‘never’. But they already knew that. She wasn’t even sure what had possessed her to ask that night. She was so excited that he’d come over that the words had just spilled out. She feels positively dejected now admitting all of this. 

Jeonghan doesn’t let her look like that long though. He stands up. “Come on. Let’s go get some coffee. I’ll even pay.” She follows blindly when Seungcheol asks if Jeonghan is paying for him to. She also ignores the subsequent argument. She doesn’t even order for herself when they get to the cafe on campus. Not like she has to when both of them know her order by heart. Jeonghan and Seungcheol drop the topic for now, but the insecurity she keeps feeling when it comes to Joshua is back. Maybe they’re right. Maybe she should cut it off. 

~

Joshua met the troublemakers for dinner on his night off. He didn’t think anything of it when Jihoon had insisted they all meet to catch up. He’d actually come to enjoy their company and they’d even started talking about things unrelated to Y/N. He kind of expected that this would be a casual dinner but he was wrong. He had to ask Jihoon to repeat himself a couple times. 

“You think I should be love bombing?” 

Jihoon nods insistently. “Yes. I happened to overhear her in the library earlier. Her brother and Jeonghan were trying to talk her into dumping you. And you’re right, she’s still very much on the hook, but I’m not sure how long she will be. She seemed upset by the conversation.”

Joshua isn’t totally surprised by that. It was obvious that Seungcheol and Jeonghan didn’t care much for him. Y/N had seemed none the wiser at dinner on Friday and Joshua was kind of banking on it staying that way. The thing is, it was painfully obvious how naive she was. He had moments where he started to feel bad because it was just so easy. At the same time, he thought it was funny for her to have dated like she had but still have no idea she’s being played. 

“Well, what do you suggest?” Joshua asks the table. They don’t have much to offer, but then he remembers that they all only got three dates, while Joshua is on date seven. He shrugs when there are too many beats of silence. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure it out.”

He starts simply. He starts visiting her in her TA office between classes to see her for a bit and have a snack. He turns down an Oreo when she offers him one for the open container in her desk drawer. She takes one bite into it and spits it out almost immediately. He plays the role of good boyfriend and babies her, asking her what’s wrong. When she tells him it was filled with toothpaste he pretends to be appalled as if he didn’t buy the tube himself. Nevertheless, she folds when he says he can’t believe anyone is still targeting her with their pranks. 

He also kicks up the PDA a notch when they are together. She seems to be enjoying it, even seeking it out sometimes, albeit shyly. He has to remind himself that he hates her. 

That’s been happening a lot lately. Today is Sunday, and he’s in the kitchen of the sorority house baking with Y/N. She’s got a little powdered sugar on her cheek and he thinks she looks cute. He even wipes it off her cheek without really thinking about it. She smiles up at him with a whisk in her hand and he has to picture a snake instead, because that’s what she’s supposed to be. 

They’re sitting in her room now, eating their desserts while they talk. The troublemakers had insisted he start spending time alone with her in private. He didn’t think it was a bad idea, but he hates how cute she looks in her hot pink pajama pants. Something about how comfortable she’s getting around him is unsettling. 

One of her roommates knocks on the open bedroom door and gives her a package. Y/N doesn’t look surprised by it but she doesn’t look totally pleased either. Joshua watches as she slices the box open, revealing a new laptop. “Ooo, that’s nice,” he muses. “What happened to your other one?” He already knows the answer.

“It’s busted,” she says shortly. “I’ve been using a loaner for a few weeks.” 

“This must have set you back some,” Joshua comments lightly. He’d heard from Mingyu that her father would probably be replacing it. That suspicion is confirmed when she sighs. 

“Yeah, my pride maybe. I had to ask my dad for help on it.”

“Generous dad,” Joshua says, still trying to keep things light, but he’s sensed something dark about her mood as soon as the package arrived. It’s so uncommon that it takes him by surprise.

Y/N laughs humorlessly. “He’s good at throwing money at a problem, that’s for sure. Wish I didn’t have to take anything from him, but I wouldn’t have been able to afford it myself and I really need to return the loaner.” 

This gives Joshua pause. Mingyu had painted her as a spoiled rich girl and Joshua had blindly accepted it because she did give off that vibe. Finally, he carefully asks, “Are… you guys not close?”

Another humorless laugh. “No,” she scoffs. “Not since he busted fifteen years of marriage for his secretary that’s half his age.” Joshua frowns and she must have realized what she said, so she gives him an apologetic look. “Sorry, that was probably too much. It’s just a sore subject.”  

“Y/N… that sucks. I’m sorry.” Joshua means it. He’s been blessed with two supportive parents that love each other and are the example of a nearly perfect relationship. He finds himself asking, “Are you close to your mom?” He kind of hopes the answer is yes, even though he hates her.

This lightens Y/N right up even though she’s handling the laptop she didn’t want now. “Yeah, she’s kind of my hero. She’s done everything for Seungcheol and I since the divorce, even if it was hard on her. I wish I could visit her more, but I talk to her nearly every day.”

Joshua’s chest warms. It’s sweet to think about. Unlike all the other things that are sweet about her that he hates, he doesn’t hate this one. He finds himself genuinely smiling at her. “That’s good. I miss my parents a lot, but our timezones never really work out now so it’s just the occasional text.”

Y/N’s expression is sympathetic. “I’m sorry. It has to be hard being so far away from them.” She bites her lip. “Can I ask… why did you move if you’re so close to them?”

He doesn’t know why he even thinks about answering. It’s something he hasn’t really answered for anyone here, though they’ve asked. He should be too busy hating her and plotting against her. Joshua laughs a little, sitting on the bed next to the box. “It’s kind of stupid, actually.”

“Try me,” Y/N says kindly, moving the box and sitting next to him. Their knees touch and Joshua feels so dumb for being momentarily distracted by it. 

He feels lame when he answers. “I ended a long term relationship and there were too many memories back home. I didn’t intend to move across the world initially, but when I was accepted here I took it immediately.”

He hates her again, because she’s giving him a sweet sympathetic smile. He hates her because it seems genuine. “I’m sorry. It must have been some breakup to need to get away like that.”

“Yeah,” he laughs but it sounds a little empty. “To the tune of being cheated on for three years straight with multiple people.” He hates her again because she hisses, face still kind and sympathetic. 

“Damn. I’m sorry. I can’t imagine that.”

He bets she can’t right now, but she’ll live something like it soon. 

She’s oblivious to his internal struggles and continues. “I might not be the best at dating, but if I had something good for three years, I wouldn’t jeopardize it like that. I wish I had something that lasted.” Awkwardly, she glances up at him. She looks a little embarrassed. “I know we just started dating so I don’t want to make any assumptions about how you feel. I do like you though, Joshua.”

She’s so disarming that it’s making him a little weak. He’s been here before, but now he’s aware that he might as well be staring down the barrel of a gun again.

Lily had that affect too. She’d smile or act cute and it had him folding at the snap of a finger. He hadn’t realized all the red flags until it was far too late. 

The whole point of this experiment, if they could even call it that anymore, was to bring Y/N down and Joshua agreed because she’s just like Lily in that way. She bats her eye and smiles and gets whatever she wants. 

And yet, Joshua is weak for her just like he was for Lily. Maybe because he’s seeing things in Y/N that aren’t like Lily at all. Lily was materialistic, while Y/N has very little decor around her room, likes thrifting, and hates accepting gifts from her father. Lily thrived on the way people admired her but Joshua now recognized it was because they could be manipulated because of it. Y/N seems shockingly innocent in that regard. Oblivious maybe, but she’s not malicious. And whereas Lily would use tears and guilt tripping to get what she wanted, Y/N has just carefully admitted her feelings without putting pressure on him.

Joshua is staring at her while he thinks of all this and he doesn’t stop her when she leans in to kiss him. It’s very careful compared to the last time they kissed, way back before she’d asked him out. 

He really hates her because he folds just like he would with Lily. He holds Y/N’s face and returns the kiss without much thought. It’s Joshua who begins to escalate things this time, starting with a hand on her upper thigh. He feels the tension in his body getting tighter because he hates how his heart races and how good it feels when he tugs on her waist and she climbs into his lap, straddling him. 

He’s about to push her back on the bed when she gets up and locks her bedroom door. She told him earlier that it’s against the house rules to lock your bedroom door with a guy in here but it seems she’s willing to break them for him today. When she’s back in arms reach, he pulls her to him gently. This is so different than the first time they were together. It’s all soft touches and kisses. He’s soft when he asks if he can undress her unlike his commands the last time and when she says yes his movements are also slow and gentle. When he’s inside of her, her breath is gentle on his neck and lips as are the soft noises she makes as he slowly fucks into her. If you could call it that. It feels far too romantic to be fucking this time around. 

He finds he likes it more like this and yet he hates it. 

He’s got to get out now. This can’t go on. 

~ 

Joshua watches the troublemakers deflate when he tells them he’s going to break thing off. They were enjoying the chaos they were causing and don’t want the primary method for that to stop. Joshua knows they’re still enjoying the pranking - they have rolls and rolls of Christmas wrapping paper to prove it for their next idea and Joshua doesn’t ask because he doesn’t want to know. 

And he knows they’ve enjoyed this vindictive game that Joshua has been the pawn for. But he won’t budge on ending it ASAP. They seem to let that go until they find out he’s going to break things off quietly. 

“What was this whole thing for if it all ends quietly?” Mingyu looks so confused. 

Joshua is staying firm. He answers Mingyu through a bite of his stir fry. “Don’t you think we’ve done enough? I break it off quietly, she knows what it’s like, and we can all call it a day. Or a semester really.”

“But what about my twitter account?” Seungkwan laments. “Can I at least get some details to post about after you do it?” 

Joshua sighs. “Sure.”

Jihoon narrows his eyes. “Why are you so eager to stop everything? We haven’t even been feeding you ideas lately. That’s all been you.” Joshua doesn’t answer and he ignores Jihoon’s scoff. “Don’t tell me she got to you.” 

“No, she didn’t get to me,” Joshua said firmly. “But the job is done. She’s hooked. She’s admitted she likes me a lot and it shows because we been dating for nearly two months. Exactly how long were you guys planning to drag this out? Your assignment is pretty much done.” He knows because he’s seen it himself. They’ve gotten the results that they wanted, yet they keep saying they need ‘more data’. That data doesn’t seem to be for the assignment anymore. 

Seokmin sighs. “Look, I know she’s disarming. It’s okay if she did get to you. But you need to let us finish this how we intended. We agreed to an exposé after you break it off. Are you backing out of that?”

Joshua doesn’t answer right away. He had agreed to it. Hell, he’d been the one to suggest it. It felt like the cherry on top of this unofficial document that they had drafted. One final push to make Choi Y/N fall from grace. 

Yet he finds himself saying. “I don’t think we should do it. Let me break it off quietly, Seungkwan can post a little blurb about it, and then we call it a day.”

Mingyu’s looking at him hard now. “You slept with her again, didn’t you?”

Joshua scoffs, regretting that he mentioned the first time to them. “It doesn’t matter. If we take this much farther, this will blow up in everyone’s face.” 

“It does matter,” Jihoon insists. “We told you in the beginning that you can’t let her worm her way in.” 

“She didn’t ‘worm her way in’,” Joshua snaps. “You think I don’t know girls like Y/N? Why do you think I agreed to this?” All four of his companions look angry, but so is Joshua. He stands up with his tray. “Look, let me break up with her quietly this afternoon and then you guys can post whatever the fuck you want. But I’m done with this after today.” They don’t stop him when he walks away. After he drops off his tray, he takes out his phone and unfollows the gossip twitter account. He doesn’t care to see what they do with it next. 

~

 “Why are you so giddy? It’s irritating,” Jeonghan says from her bed. He’s come over to the sorority house under the guise of getting help with his math homework, but he has yet to crack open a book or even pull it out of his backpack for that matter. Instead, he’s totally wrinkled her covers and tossed some of her pillows on the floor in an effort to get comfortable. 

But Y/N is giddy. She’s still thinking about yesterday when Joshua was over. She’d hooked up with a fair number of people, but that had been different for her. He was so sweet and gentle and it had made her melt. 

“It’s nothing,” she says from her desk. She would normally not keep a secret from Jeonghan. She can only think of a few occasions that she’s done so as long as she’s known him. But she didn’t want his look of disappointment to ruin her high. 

But the thing about knowing someone as long as she and Jeonghan have known each other is that you can’t get away with much. Jeonghan looks sly when she turns around to face him. “Someone got fucked.” Jeonghan nearly cackles at the blush that overtakes Y/N’s face. “And fucked good at that.”

“Jeonghan! Do you have no manners?” She scolds, but she’s also biting back a giggle. 

“No,” Jeonghan says shamelessly. “Tell me, was he better than me?” 

“Jeonghan!” Y/N shouts, too shocked to laugh right away. They don’t often talk about losing their first kisses to each other at 14 and losing their virginities to each other at 16, mostly because it had never affected their friendship. But sometimes, Jeonghan likes to surprise her with a mention of it just to embarrass her. 

But it doesn’t embarrass her the way he seems to think it does. She’s not embarrassed to have slept with Jeonghan once upon a time. He was sweet and he knew her so well even back then. She couldn’t imagine it being with anyone else. That was why she was comfortable pitching the idea to him in the first place. 

Plus there was always this little, tiny, microscopic crush that she suppressed. It didn’t go anywhere even after they kissed or had sex, so she let it go. But the mention of it makes her feel warm only because it’s Jeonghan that says it. 

Jeonghan’s laughing loudly. “It’s okay, you can answer honestly.” 

Y/N huffs. “You know it’s not like that with us.”

Jeonghan’s laugh is lighter. “I know, angel.” He pauses for a moment and it seems like he decides to continue. “I’m happy it’s going well. I know we gave you a hard time about him, but if you’re happy we will be too.”

Y/N smiles warmly at him. That’s why he’s her best friend. “Thanks, Hannie. Now are you ever going to do your homework?” 

Jeonghan groans, crawling under the covers. 

~

Joshua is in his biostats class when it happens. Phones buzz across desks and the instructor looks annoyed but continues lecturing. Joshua is in the front of the class, so he can only hear reactions to the notification. People gasp and whispers break out. There’s even some laughter. The instructor tries to call things to order, but it’s no use. He calls the class to an end ten minutes early with a warning about phone usage during lectures. 

On his way out, Joshua sees Y/N frozen at her desk. She’s got her phone in her hand and she looks like she’s not breathing. She looks like she might even cry. 

Good. He doesn’t stay to watch the show. It’s satisfying enough to see the excitement bubbling around campus. It’s because the exposé has been posted. 

Despite saying they shouldn’t do it and that he wanted nothing to do with it if they did, he’d changed his mind as he left the sorority house yesterday afternoon. One of her housemates had let him in and pointed him upstairs, saying Y/N was home. He’s giving himself a pep talk all the way up the stairs and down the hall to her room. He should be kind but straight to the point. He even debates using the phrase that the troublemakers had fed him, because something about throwing it back in her face like that feels too mean now. 

Her bedroom door is cracked and he’s just about to knock when he hears a male voice inside. He’s not sure who it is so he waits for a beat. 

“Tell me, was he better than me?” 

Joshua’s frozen in place. He hears Y/N gasp and yell, “Jeonghan!” Then she’s giggling. 

Jeonghan must find it funny too. “It’s okay, you can answer honestly.” 

Y/N huffs. “You know it’s not like that with us.”

Jeonghan’s laughing again, but there’s something a little too intimate about it. “I know, angel.” 

Joshua quietly exited because he didn't need to hear anymore. He shouldn’t be surprised. He’d been warned over and over again. He also remembered how Mingyu had called Jeonghan the male version of Y/N. They really were a match made in hell, as Jihoon had said that day in the courtyard. 

Joshua had barely gotten around the corner from the sorority house before he pulled out his phone and sent a message. ‘Never mind. Do the exposé.’

They don’t need to be told twice and it’s not very kind. Joshua knows because he helped write it. Seungkwan was even hesitant to post it but it promises a major reaction. 

It seems he got over that hesitancy. Joshua feels smug as he walks back to his dorm. He might even follow the twitter account again just to see the downfall.

~

Think you know Choi Y/N? Campus it girl. Sorority girl. Cheerleader. Straight A student. Sure, I guess.

But do you know her dating history? 

Let’s start with this summer. She met Lee Jihoon at a bar and went on exactly three dates with him. 

On her birthday (at which point she hadn’t ended things with Jihoon yet), she slept with Kim Mingyu, then they went on exactly three dates. 

Then her next victim was Lee Seokmin. He also got exactly three dates… before she was spotted getting cozy with Jeong Jaehyun minutes after Seokmin received her message letting him down easy.

You’re starting to get the point, I’m sure. This is nothing new since she’s been doing this for years now. 

And now, Joshua Hong, transfer student. Except Y/N won’t know until she reads this that it was all a set up. If you’ve been wronged by Choi Y/N, then you know she deserves a taste of her own medicine and she’s got it now. 

Especially when she says she really likes Joshua Hong and dates him for two months (a record!) while sleeping with Yoon Jeonghan on the side. Anyone else have a Choi Y/N story they’d like to share?

Act Three

The drive is quiet, mostly because no one knows what to say. It’s never been this quiet for the three of them, not in 22 years. Not even when it was supposed to be. 

Seungcheol and Jeonghan aren’t talking. Two weeks ago, Seungcheol found Jeonghan on campus and just started swinging. Jeonghan ended up with a bloody nose before some of Seungcheol’s teammates nearby could drag Seungcheol off of him. Not as bad as it could have been, but it was a first. They’d never been in a fist fight before, not even as kids on the playground. They ended up in front of the Dean for it too. Thankfully, the Dean let it slide with a warning. 

Seungcheol is also not talking to Y/N, specifically because he hadn’t known she slept with Mingyu the night of their birthday party months ago. He’d thought he had a pretty close relationship with his twin sister, but he feels betrayed that he found some thing like that out on twitter of all places. 

Jeonghan and Y/N are talking, but barely. The tension is overwhelming. No matter how much they emphasize that they haven’t been sleeping together, no one seems to believe them. Without really discussing it, they decide some distance would be good. He’s insistent that he’s still her best friend for life and she’ll never be rid of him, though it doesn’t feel like it from the back seat of her and Seungcheol’s shared car. 

Y/N kind of feels like a ghost. She has for two weeks now. She barely took in anything to do with dead week or finals week. The normal stress of that time of the year doesn’t really register because she feels too numb. It’s kind of a blessing because if she can’t take much in, she doesn’t notice all the laughter and whispers that follow her around campus, at cheer practice, and in the sorority house. 

Just about the only person that gives her any sympathy is Wonwoo when she goes to return the loaner laptop before leaving for the break. He delicately asks how she’s doing and he seems like he really wants to know. His kindness doesn’t feel like something she deserves. She leaves before she cries in front of him again. 

Tonight is the dinner at her father’s house. Jeonghan is always invited and is still coming despite whatever is going on with the three of them. When they got in the car, the only thing they really said to each other is that they didn’t want to involve their parents in this mess. So they had to pretend like everything was fine, if only for one dinner. 

The mansion is cold when the three of them arrive. Their bags are still in the car because they aren’t staying here. Y/N is relieved by that small blessing. She can’t wait to be in her old bedroom in her mom’s small cozy apartment in a matter of hours. 

Nari greets them with a smile that is totally fake. She’s wearing a little black dress and heels under her apron. Y/N guesses she’s taken on the role of housewife since leaving her position as secretary at the company. It sounded like it didn’t look good for her to be married to the boss, preferential treatment and all. 

Nari sends them to the sitting room. It’s cold in there too and not a blanket in sight over the back of the couch or in a bin in the corner. Jeonghan silently takes off his wooly cardigan and hands it to her, ignoring Seungcheol’s glare. He’s been doing that anytime he sees the two of them interact. 

Nari comes out with a tray of drinks, handing them around. Y/N takes a single sip of the drink and puts it down. There’s no grenadine in hers while the boys’ drinks are a light pink because of it.  She knows it’s a calculated jab to not give her something everyone else gets but Y/N refuses to give Nari the satisfaction of a reaction. 

“Where’s Appa tonight?” Seungcheol asks politely. Everything is formal with Nari, just as it’s always been with their father too. 

Nari smiles and it’s so sickly sweet that Y/N has to look away. “He called and said he was running late at the office. Should be here anytime. Excuse me, I need to go check the roast. The chef is on vacation.” She says it snidely, like the chef doesn’t deserve a vacation, but the three of them say nothing. Once she’s out of the room, Jeonghan switches drinks with Y/N, taking the non-grenadine one. He, again, pointedly ignores Seungcheol’s glare.

Y/N is still cold at dinner where she picks at her food. Her father has barely glanced at her the whole time. He’s worried about how Seungcheol’s team is going to do this year and how Jeonghan’s applications to the internship at his company’s office near the university have gone. He promises to put in a good word for Jeonghan. 

Reluctantly, her father looks down his nose at Y/N. “And how was your semester?”

“It went well,” Y/N said, feeling a little bit like she was in a job interview. “I got straight As. The sorority and cheer team are doing well too.” She could talk about the fundraisers and volunteer events the sorority did, or how she learned a new stunt for a routine, but she knows by now he doesn’t really care. He’d always looked at her with such disinterest, even as a child.

Her father pretends to look pleased. “Good to hear. We need a Dr. Choi in the family. Can’t let those grades slip.” Y/N just nods in agreement. “By the way, did you get the replacement laptop I sent?” 

“I did. Thank you for sending it so quickly. I apologize that I didn’t send you a message when I got it, but I had a lot to catch up on, what with a broken laptop.” The words burn in her throat. She doesn’t want to thank him. She doesn’t want anything from him. She wants her mom. 

“Of course, but you should really be more careful, Y/N. Don’t be so reckless with your belongings,” he scolds. Y/N doesn’t miss how pleased Nari is with the lecture. Y/N remembers when Nari sent her to boarding school for part of semester in high school. Seungcheol hadn’t been sent away since he was supposed to be a starter on the basketball team. Their mother had to drive to the boarding school and pull her out after Y/N cried on the phone one too many times. Nari didn’t look happy when she showed up on the doorstep with her suitcase again.

“Yes sir,” Y/N answers meekly, if only to avoid anymore conversation. Seungcheol and Jeonghan both clench their jaws across the table. 

After an agonizing couple hours, Seungcheol makes the excuse that they should get going. They still have to drop Jeonghan off and get home to their mother’s apartment across town. 

In the car, neither boys say anything as Y/N cries in the backseat. This dinner was the straw that broke the camel's back. Jeonghan ignores Seungcheol’s looks in the rearview mirror because he refused to sit in the front seat, sliding into the back with her to hold her hand. 

~ 

The break flies by only because Y/N wishes it wouldn’t. She’d like to stay in her warm bed in her mom’s warm apartment for the rest of her life. She surprises herself by even considering not going back, but she knows she’d never hear the end of it. After all, she has one semester left. Then she can pick anywhere for medical school, given that she gets accepted. 

Her mother is clearly worried, and Y/N feels so guilty for it. Her mother has been a nurse for over 20 years. She works hard and she works long, weird hours. She always has in order to make it work for the twins. So Y/N tries to slap a smile on her face when she’s out of her room if only to keep her from worrying, particularly when she’s just come home from an overnight shift. 

But it seems it doesn’t matter because her mother still knocks on her door the night before they’re scheduled to drive back to school. Y/N is packing after doing some laundry and she slaps that fake smile on her face when her mother sits cross legged on her bed. “Are you sure you have to go? You could just move back in for good. Just don’t tell your brother,” her mother teases. 

This does bring a little bit of a genuine smile to Y/N’s face. “I would love to, but I’m so close to being done.” 

“I know, baby, and I’m so proud of you.” Her mother stopped and stared for a second. Finally, she sighs. “You know, I had a really bad semester at nursing school. Even had to switch schools because of it.”

Y/N isn’t sure how she knows that the semester was bad because she hadn’t said anything. But there’s no point in denying it. She’s been moping for weeks now. “Really? What happened?”

“Some mean girls,” her mother shrugs. “They’re everywhere, but they were more tolerable at the second school.”

Y/N continues folding clothes if only to keep busy. “What if I’m the mean girl?” 

“What do you mean, baby?” 

It had been weighing on Y/N’s mind. Something about the post a couple weeks before finals had made things painfully obvious to her. She hadn’t realized how it looked to others while she was chasing and looking for the right guy. She didn’t realize how many feelings she’d hurt on that chase. She eventually deleted her twitter account and locked down all of her other socials to avoid finding out how anyone else really felt about her. 

“I think I’ve hurt some feelings with my dating habits. I didn’t mean anything by it… but I did.” 

Her mother is quiet for a moment, before waving her over. There’s something so comforting about curling up into her mother’s side. “I’ll tell you what I think, okay?” Y/N nods into her shoulder. “You have so much love to give. You always have, you and Seungcheol both. And you really want to be with someone to share that. But maybe it’s okay if you keep it to yourself sometimes.” Her mother’s head plops down on top of Y/N’s. “You know, I was always afraid the divorce would affect you two. It’s why I stayed until I just couldn’t anymore. But now I see how you might be chasing after the validation you didn’t see in mine and your father’s relationship. And you don’t need it, okay? Take care of yourself first.”

Y/N is tearful and this is all too serious, so she has to crack a joke. “I think you’re spending too much time covering shifts in the psych ward. You sound like a shrink.”

Y/N’s mother laughs loudly. “Oh, I know. They’re keeping me on that rotation because I’m so good. Come on. Let’s finish packing this and then we’ll make some cookies for you to take with you tomorrow.”

~

Mingyu is pissed. He has been for days. Specifically, because a couple days before he was due to come back from break, the twitter account mysteriously disappears. So does any trace of it. No one has screenshots and the document they’d drafted of the exposé is gone too. All that’s left is anything they compiled for the final project. 

Seungkwan says he didn’t do anything with the twitter account and Mingyu believes him because his texts sound panicked. As Seungkwan is lamenting over the years he’s spent building up that account, Mingyu develops a theory. When he calls Wonwoo multiple times without receiving an answer, he considers it evidence. 

So when Mingyu arrives back at his apartment, he’s seething. Wonwoo looks totally unfazed where he lays on the couch with a book as Mingyu all but throws down his suitcase. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Wonwoo sounds bored. He doesn’t even look up from his book. 

“The twitter account, you asshole!”

“Oh, that? I hacked it and deleted it.” Wonwoo says this so casually that it almost makes Mingyu’s brain explode. 

“Why would you do that?! You know how hard we worked on that.” Mingyu thinks he might hit Wonwoo. “Months of work and now we have nothing to show for it. And years of work for Seungkwan.”

“That’s too bad,” Wonwoo says without an ounce of sympathy. 

Mingyu is fast approaching the bargaining phase. He plops down on the couch next to Wonwoo. “I thought you said you couldn’t do it anyway. What happened?”

Wonwoo gives him a blank look. “Oh, I’ve spent months on it, but I was finally able to do it over the break. It wasn’t easy, but it was very satisfying to click confirm on that little pop up.”

Mingyu stammers, at a total loss of words. Eventually, he’s pleading. “Why, Wonwoo? That was the basis of our whole project.” 

“And your project is done. I saw the document you guys turned in.” Wonwoo’s voice is turning icy. “What? It wasn’t enough for you to get a little revenge and an A+? Now you want to go back and relive it?”

“Why are you acting like this? You don’t even like her!” Mingyu cried. 

“I like her a hell of a lot more than I like any of you guys right now. I don’t even recognize you anymore, Mingyu.” It’s Wonwoo’s turn to be mad. He slams the book closed, throwing it down on the coffee table. “You tore her apart and then kept that account up to let everyone else keep tearing her apart. Do you feel better now? Does that help you get over the three dates you took her on? Are you seeing how you guys overreacted now?”

“She had it coming,” Mingyu argued but he was losing heat. Wonwoo rarely lectured him like this. 

“You destroyed her. I’ll be surprised if she even comes back,” Wonwoo snapped, standing up to pace. “I asked her if she was okay when she turned in the loaner laptop and she looked like she could cry on the spot. Whatever vengeance you got, I hope you enjoyed it because you don’t get anymore if it touches a computer or phone. I’ll hack every single device you guys have to make sure of it.”

Mingyu has deflated, totally stunned. “Why are you defending her? I don’t understand this at all.”

“I’m defending her because it seems like literally no one else is. I’m sure you know the damage that you’ve caused.” When Mingyu gives him a blank look, Wonwoo snaps again. “Let me refresh your memory. I heard she’s the laughing stock of the sorority and cheer team. She’s deleted her twitter account because there were hundreds of people tagging her in comments. And last I heard Seungcheol and Jeonghan fought.”

Mingyu had heard that. It makes news in the locker room when your captain gets into a fist fight and is sent to the Dean’s office. The coach wasn’t happy. “I can’t help that,” Mingyu insisted. “Besides, that was probably a long time coming. Joshua said Y/N had been sleeping with Jeonghan the whole time.”

“And that’s another thing! They’re both firmly denying that.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes because he can’t help it. “And you believe that? How do you know all of this anyway? Everyone’s been gone for break.”

“You know, I do believe it actually, especially since she didn’t bother denying anything else you guys wrote. And let’s just say some other accounts have been cleaned up as well.” Wonwoo picks up his book. “I’m leaving. I mean it though. You guys are done.”

Wonwoo’s disappointment is clear and leaves Mingyu feeling conflicted. But the thing is, the project’s over and the twitter account is gone. Mingyu decides it’s time to move on. 

~

Joshua can feel eyes on him, but this time he knows who it is. Minghao has been doing a lot of staring lately. Neither had anywhere to go during the break, but they saw very little of each other. It seems Minghao is upset with him, and Joshua hasn’t asked yet. 

But it’s starting to drive him crazy, because he really wants to enjoy his night off and watch some TV. When he glances at Minghao, his roommate is peering over his laptop. Joshua raises an eyebrow. “What?”

Minghao continues to stare, before finally saying, “Nothing.”

Joshua scoffs. “If you have something to say, just say it. You’ve been like this all break.”

Minghao purses his lips. “Nothing, really. I just thought you were nicer, is all.”

“Nicer? What do you mean?” Joshua prided himself on being polite, a gentleman even. 

“I mean the twitter account.” Joshua must looked surprised, because Minghao rolls his eyes. “Yes, even I have twitter. And even if I didn’t it would have been impossible to miss. I just don’t understand how you got involved in all that. Or why.”

“She deserved it,” Joshua mumbled. He didn’t really have another excuse anymore. He’d deleted the app to keep from looking at it because it was kind of like watching a car crash. 

“I beg to differ.”

Minghao’s statement makes Joshua’s jaw drop as he sits up. “What do you mean? You were the first one to tell me what she was like.”

“Yeah, I get it. Play the player and all. But you and whoever you were working with took it to the extreme,” Minghao said seriously. “I mean, there are some nasty things being written about her.” 

“So?” 

Minghao blinks a few times. “Fine, be that way. Leave me alone, though.” Joshua watched as Minghao slid headphones on and turned away. 

~

Y/N has never been what you would call a recluse. She liked to be around people, always had, but she finds she can’t when she returns to campus. She hides out in her room at the sorority house most of the time, even avoiding her housemates. Some are mean and others are pitying, but Y/N doesn’t care for either of those things, so she waits until everyone has left or is in bed before she comes out for things like food or laundry. 

She’s taken to spending a lot of time in bed. Not scrolling, not watching TV, not even reading.  She’s staring at that same spot on the wall when there’s a knock on her bedroom door. It opens and Seungcheol comes in. They haven’t really talked much outside of the necessities of traveling together so she sits up in bed, surprised. He doesn’t really acknowledge her as he puts the bags he’s carrying down onto her desk. She watches as he unpacks a couple orders of her favorite sushi. When he hands them to her with a pair of chopsticks, her eyes water a bit. 

She doesn’t dig in right away, waiting for him to get his stuff and sit next to her on the bed. He doesn’t crack open his food either. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. 

Y/N shakes her head. “No, I’m sorry. I made such a mess without even realizing it.”

“Maybe a little,” Seungcheol chuckles. “But you’re still my sister and I’m sorry that I didn’t just come talk to you about it. And I’m sorry I haven’t really helped you out any lately. I know you’ve had a hard time with all this.”

Y/N sighs, putting her food to the side. She leans into Seungcheol. “Maybe I deserved it. All the pranks. The twitter account. I didn’t even realize how bad it all looked until I read it along with everyone else.”

She feels Seungcheol shake his head. “No. They don’t understand it.” She doesn’t have to ask what he’s referring to because she knows it’s about their father and the divorce. Seungcheol had once jokingly said the whole thing had given her a complex, but maybe it wasn’t much of a joke. “And anyway, that whole thing with Joshua reeked. I wish I’d pressed you more to end it with him because it’s totally unfair that it was a set up.”

Y/N frowns. She’d tried not to think much of Joshua lately because it would do no good. She hadn’t heard from him and she didn’t expect to, so she hadn’t reached out either. “I should have known it was too good to be true.” 

“Maybe, but it’ll work out with someone someday.” Seungcheol sounds like he means that. After a beat, he asks, “So you and Jeonghan? How long has that been going on?”

“It hasn’t been. We lost our virginity to each other when we were 16. That’s it.”

“That’s it?” Seungcheol sounds surprised. 

“Yeah, I promise. It rarely comes up anymore. I’m not even sure how that rumor got started recently,” Y/N sags into Seungcheol’s side. That was something that hadn’t gone back to normal yet. She was used to seeing Jeonghan all the time, maybe more than she saw her twin, but they didn’t really know how to be around each other lately. 

“Do you wish it would come up? The idea of you and him, I mean?” 

Y/N is surprised by the question, only because she remembers hearing about their fight. “Do you really want to know the answer to that question?” Seungcheol nods. Y/N bites her lip. “Sometimes. I wished it would have back then, but we were so lucky we didn’t ruin our friendship at 16. Not that it matters now, even if I did want it to come up.”

“He misses you too, don’t worry,” Seungcheol says easily. 

“Have you guys made up?” Y/N’s head pops up, relief in her eyes. 

“Yeah, I interrogated him this morning,” Seungcheol smiles and there’s a flash of something mischievous before it clears and he’s serious again. “I told him to come see you but he’s working up the courage. He wishes he could have shielded you from all of this.” Y/N frowns at Seungcheol’s explanation, but he doesn’t let her press him for anything. “And for the record, I’d be okay with it if you two did have something going on. I’d just like to know about it. Don’t keep secrets from me anymore.”

Seungcheol places her food back in her lap and with a tone of finality, he insists, “Eat. That place is expensive.”

Y/N does, feeling a little bit lighter. 

~ 

The next day, she decides that she’s not going to wait for Jeonghan to come see her. He’s been her best friend for over 20 years and this is getting fixed today. Seungcheol is out when she knocks on their apartment door. Jeonghan looks like he just woke up but his eyes widen when he sees her. “Surprise,” Y/N sings lamely, holding a bag from their favorite bakery. 

Nevertheless, Jeonghan smiles and lets her in. They sit together on the floor next to the coffee table. As kids, they didn’t care to sit at the table or even on the couch, and it was a habit they still had occasionally if only for nostalgia.

Jeonghan would normally inhale the cake that she’s just given him but he eats slowly today. Y/N picks at her own slice. “I’m sorry you got roped into all of this.” 

He looks at her for a long time and she’s beginning to worry that he’ll kick her out. But eventually he shakes his head. “You didn’t do anything wrong in my book, so there’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“Others would disagree with you,” Y/N says bitterly, putting her cake down on the coffee table and pulling her knees up to her chest. Laying her chin on her knees, she looks at him. She can’t imagine not fixing this with him, but it’s up to her to apologize and it’s up to him to decide if he still wants to be friends. “I don’t even know how that rumor started. It makes you look bad too, since you’ve been dating as well. So I’m still sorry.”

Jeonghan looks so stubborn now. She knows the look well. It’s the same one he gives when someone tells him to do something he doesn’t want to do, like doing chores or homework. “No. I don’t accept your apology because it’s not needed.”

Tears prick Y/N’s eyes. “Let me apologize,” she pleads. “You should be saying ‘I told you so’ anyway. You’ve been telling me for years to be more careful.”

“You’re misunderstanding, Y/N,” Jeonghan lets out in exasperation. “I never told you to be careful because of how it looked. I know your intentions were never bad. And I never imagined anyone would do anything so… cruel in response to it.” He looks back down to his cake, picking some of the frosting off with the fork. “I only told you to be careful because I didn’t like seeing you get let down over and over again. And I’m certain there’s no one who deserves you so it happens all the time.”

Y/N stares at him while he still picks the frosting off his cake. “Do you really feel that way? Not even you?” There’s a tinge of a joke, but she really wonders.

Jeonghan chuckles, some light returning to his eyes.  “Not even me, and I’m flawless.” This earns a laugh from Y/N but then things get quiet. “Of course, I feel that way. Whoever you do end up with one day will be really lucky.”

There are so many things Y/N wants to say, but finally, she lands on, “I feel the same about you. I’ve been telling you for years that you’re total husband material.” 

Jeonghan laughs again. “And who made me learn all that? You hold your best friend to high standards,” he teases. “Now, can we go back to normal? I missed you.”

Y/N grinned. “I missed you too, Hannie. But did you really think I was leaving here without things going back to normal? You’ll never be rid of me, I’ll haunt you for the rest of your life.” Jeonghan shoves her by the shoulder and she loses balance, laying flat on the floor. 

“Don’t make me kick you out. Now, eat your cake or I will.”

~

Joshua walks into the hospital with a minute to spare. It’s his first day at his internship and he’s really looking forward to it. He goes to the front desk and finds out where he’s supposed to be - to which the answer is the 3rd floor. This is one of the regular units, specifically not the ER or the ICU. As soon as he steps out of the elevator, he bites back a groan. 

Somehow, he’d forgotten that Y/N would be here. And even if she was, he kind of assumed they’d never have to run into each other because they’re interns in different departments. But sure enough, Y/N is standing there with the charge nurse that Joshua was told to find. 

Both women turn to him as he approaches. “Joshua, right?” The charge nurse, Eunji, asks and when Joshua nods, she smiles. “Good! And both of you are on time too. Joshua, have you met Y/N before?”

Joshua looks at Y/N, who doesn’t so much as glance at him now. Evenly, she says, “Yes, we’ve shared some classes.” Her tone has none of the usual sparkle to it, and he’s not sure if it’s because she’s trying to be professional or if it’s because he’s here standing next to her. 

“Great! Well, unfortunately, I don’t have anything exciting for you guys,” Eunji looks apologetic. “We need to do inventory today, and the tech that would normally do it during this shift is out.” Eunji hands both of them clipboards and pens, before leading them to a supply closet. The bare overhead light is not very bright and most of the corners are still dark. “Sorry it’s so dingy in here… Anyway, it’s pretty straightforward. For each line item, do a count and write it down. Split it however you’d like and if you have any questions I’ll be around.”

With that Eunji closes the door behind her, leaving Y/N and Joshua alone. They haven’t seen each other since that Sunday in her bedroom, outside of a couple classes they shared. Joshua feels awkward when Y/N turns to one of the shelves and starts without another word. He doesn’t know why but the silence kills him for the next hour. He has to recount rolls of gauze and boxes of bandaids a few times before he thinks he got it right. 

He’s in the middle of his third count of boxes of alcohol swabs when he hears a grunt behind him. When he turns, he sees Y/N on her tiptoes, trying to reach the top shelf. Without thinking, he comes up behind her, grabbing the bin that she needs and handing it to her. She barely glances up at him when she mumbles a quick, ‘thanks’, before turning to the table in the corner to count the contents of the bin. 

Joshua doesn’t know why he’s staring. Doesn’t know why he thinks she looks cute in hot pink scrubs and a ponytail. Doesn’t know why he likes how concentrated she looks. It burns him up inside that he wants to talk to her when he couldn’t wait to be rid of her last semester. 

Impulsively, Joshua says, “Are you okay?”

She doesn’t look up from the bin. “Yeah, why do you ask?”

“It’s just, we haven’t talked since…” He trails off when he sees the tension building in her shoulders. 

She looks up at him with confusion all over her face. “Joshua, I don’t mean to sound like a smart ass, but what would there be to talk about? That tweet was pretty clear about where we stood.”

“So? You have nothing to say?” Joshua’s blood starts to boil.

“What is there to say? No one wants to hear it anyway,” Y/N says with a bit of bitterness.

“A lot of people want to hear an apology,” Joshua seethed. “You’ve fucked with a lot of people.”

“Yeah. I know how to read twitter comments, Joshua,” Y/N snapped, throwing things back into the bin haphazardly to turn to him fully. “Are you happy? I don’t even know what I did to you. Other guys, fine. I’m not great to date, I get it now. The comments made it crystal clear. But I did absolutely nothing to you.”

“Absolutely nothing? What about sleeping with your best friend while you were seeing me?” 

Y/N throws her hands over her face in exasperation. “When we were 16! Not once since then. I’m so sick of explaining this.”

Joshua freezes. “What? But I heard you guys talking about it.” He watches realization wash over her face. 

“Oh my god,” she groans into her hands again. “You’re telling me you spread a rumor like that because you eavesdropped on a snippet of a conversation that you had no context for?” Joshua’s silence must be answer enough because she barrels on. “We did what stupid teenagers do and wanted to lose our virginities to someone we trusted. And if you had waited five fucking seconds, you would have heard him say that he was happy things were going well with us.” She laughs, but it’s not right because it sounds a little watery. “I really liked you, Joshua. I don’t know what I did to deserve all this. And I don’t give a fuck about the mean girls on the cheer team or in the sorority, or the gross guys on the basketball team, or anyone else on campus for that matter. But you almost wrecked the two relationships that I’ve had for my entire life.”

“You deserve it because I’ve met girls like you,” Joshua bit. “You just have to smile and you get handed whatever you want. You play with people like toys until you get bored.”

“Well, I didn’t get what I wanted, now did I?” Now she’s crying but she looks furious. “You saw to that, did you? All I wanted was for it to finally feel right with someone, and when it did it was all a trick.”

Joshua scoffs. “Like it’ll take you long to move on.”

Y/N’s chin wobbles in the dim lighting and there’s a pang in Joshua’s chest at the sight. “Oh no. I’ll be swearing off dating from now on. No one will have anymore reasons to fuel their stupid pranks or trap dates or twitter accounts.” Joshua freezes again and Y/N is on a roll now. “You didn’t think I would figure out who was behind all of that? It’s a little too convenient that you’ve been hanging out with just about everyone mentioned in that stupid tweet. Do you guys feel like you’ve gotten your revenge now? I considered dropping out over all of this. Would that have made you guys happy to never see me again?”

Joshua stumbles over his words. He didn’t expect her to piece everything together, and he really didn’t expect that she considered not coming back to finish her degree. She was a good student and seemed so invested in her future. But it doesn’t matter what he has to say because she’s shoving the clipboard into his chest hard as she passes by him. “You finish the rest. I can’t fucking reach it anyway.” 

The door slams behind her and he looks around the supply closet for help understanding what just happened. He feels guilty now in a way he hadn’t throughout this whole experiment. He’d felt that he had no choice but to transfer after the embarrassment that was the end of his relationship with Lily, and now he’d just made someone feel the same way. But she was brave enough to come back while he ran across the world with his tail between his legs.

When he finally snaps back to attention, it takes him way more than three counts to get each line item right. 

~

Two months have passed and things are looking up for Y/N. She, Seungcheol, and Jeonghan are glued to each other again just like it’s meant to be. What few classes she has to take are going well. And she’s getting used to the way things are with other people around campus. Once she got over the initial shock and subsequent depression at the whole situation, she decided not to acknowledge it anymore. She didn’t entertain the conversation with her sorority sisters or teammates when they asked if she was seeing someone. She was getting really good at shutting out anyone that asked her out, which seemed to be just as frequent as it was before. She used to enjoy the attention, but now she just saw a bunch of red flags. 

Her escape had become her internship. After the first day, Joshua was working in another unit so she didn’t have to see him. As promised when she was offered the internship, she would be shadowing in the ER. It was mostly triaging or assisting the non-critical cases, and she didn't even get to do the fun stuff. Mostly, she would call patients back and gather their history under the supervision of an RN. Then she might escort them to a room when one became available. The exciting days were when she could assist with treatments, but it was mostly handing the doctor or nurse things and holding the patient’s hand while she talked their ear off to distract them. 

Today was a triage shift and it was almost over when the nurse from the front desk gave her a new clip board and walked away. Y/N sees the name on the sheet and smacks her forehead with the clipboard hard. Then, resigned, she goes to the lobby. 

“Lee Seokmin.” 

He hobbles into the triage station with another guy holding him up on one side. She can tell he’s surprised to see her, but she doesn’t react to it. “Have a seat,” she said, pointing. She also drags over two more chairs so he can prop up his foot and his friend can sit down. “I’m Y/N and this is Yunseo.” Yunseo waved from the other side of the computer. “Yunseo is the RN for triage today, but since I’m an intern, she’s letting me take some of your medical history. Injured foot, huh?” She says neutrally. 

“Ankle I think… Y/N, this is my friend Junhui.”

Y/N gives Junhui a polite smile, but she can tell by his reaction to her name that he knows quite a bit about what’s been going on last semester. “What happened?” She asks Seokmin. 

“We were rehearsing and I tripped,” Seokmin sighs. 

“Can I take a look? I have to make sure it isn’t critical. If it is, I need to hand it off Yunseo right now.” Seokmin doesn’t hesitate to roll up the leg of his jeans. His ankle is swollen and starting to develop a nasty bruise. Y/N hums sympathetically, and Yunseo nods encouragingly to her to continue. This is how Y/N knows she’s right to assume it’s not critical. “I’m sorry, that’s rough.” She backs away from Seokmin. “Well, unfortunately there’s not much to do until a doctor can see you besides icing your ankle and taking information for your records.” When Seokmin nods, Y/N zips out of the room.

She wants to linger at the ice machine for a breather, but today’s charge nurse is in the break room taking lunch. So, Y/N works quickly to get the bag of ice and returns to Seokmin and Junhui. Once the ice is on Seokmin’s ankle, Y/N plops down in front of the computer. It’s both a blessing and a curse that these questionnaires are so long. On one hand, there’s not a lot of time for them to talk about anything else when she’s peppering him with questions one after another. On the other hand, it feels like it takes an eternity to get through it. She tries to focus on the fact that this is good experience with Yunseo over her shoulder pointing out certain things.

Y/N feels like she’s so close to freedom after she’s rolled Seokmin in a wheelchair to an exam room while Yunseo calls the next patient to get started. “Someone will be in to see you shortly, but call if you need anything,” she says professionally. Her hand is on the knob to pull it closed behind her when Seokmin speaks up. 

“Y/N? I’m sorry.” 

She pauses and she can’t help but frown at him. He does look sorry actually, guilt all over his face. Junhui must sense where this is going, so he asks where the vending machine is and excuses himself. Y/N is still standing in the doorway, arms crossed now. “Sorry for what?”

“For the experiment. The pranks. Joshua. The twitter account.”

Y/N blinks at him because she’s not sure what else to do. “Experiment?”

“It all started as a psych experiment - conformity on social media. But it got out of control… and that sounds really stupid when I say it out loud.” Seokmin rubs the back of his neck. 

“Yeah, it does,” Y/N murmured. She looks around the pristine exam room because she can’t really look at him. She’d just started to feel better from all of this, but now she’s learning of a whole other layer to it. Her misery lately is a result of a class assignment made of questionable ethics. She’d really like to forget about all of it. “I guess I owe you an apology too. I didn’t mean anything by cutting things off, and I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that I wanted more.”

“You didn’t,” Seokmin insists and she looks at him in confusion. “I thought maybe you led me on. I was upset at how things had gone with us. That’s the whole reason I agreed to any of this in the first place. But the longer I think about it, you were pretty honest about how you felt. You shouldn’t have to apologize because I got my hopes up.”

“You’re not the only one though. That twitter account kind of makes it seem like it’s a habit of mine.”

“Yeah… that got really out of control. I’m sorry you had to see any of it. But if it makes you feel any better, it was hacked and deleted.” 

Y/N found herself laughing. “Hacked? Who did that?”

Seokmin looks amused. “Let’s just say you have a very talented friend looking out for you. He shut down that dating app because of you too.” Y/N’s eyes widen. 

“Man, you guys were serious about this revenge.” 

She watches Seokmin relax because she’s laughing again and he finally laughs too. “Yeah, like I said. Out of control. I’ve been trying to convince them to apologize. I think Mingyu, Jihoon, and Seungkwan will come around… I’m not sure about Joshua.”

“Seungkwan? Boo Seungkwan?”

Seokmin nods. “He ran the twitter account.”

“Ah,” Y/N sighs. “Well, you might be right about Joshua. He’s interning here too, and that’s going about as well as you would expect.”

“Total avoidance, huh?” When Y/N raises an eyebrow, he shakes his head. “We haven’t seen or heard much from him either.”

Junhui’s hovering outside of the door with a pack of cookies and a loud crunch gives him away. It makes Y/N laugh. “You can come back in. I’m leaving for real this time.” 

A couple hours later, she waves to Seokmin and Junhui as she leaves. It’s kind of a relief to know that someone involved feels a little bad, but she thinks he’s probably wrong. She won’t be getting an apology from any of the others. 

~

“You want me to do what?” Wonwoo asks. He thinks he’s heard the request wrong and he’s confused. 

“Bring the twitter account back,” Seungkwan requests again. 

Wonwoo sighs and nods. “Ah, that’s what I thought you said. Two questions, are you stupid and do you know what the word ‘deleted’ means?”

Seungkwan is totally unfazed by the insult. “It’s for another project. You can’t restore it?”

Wonwoo can’t help but glance around the table. The whole crew is back together and he was kind of hoping that would never happen again. It had been a disaster last semester. He finally pins Mingyu with a look. “I told you that you guys would not get a technical method to do this again.” 

“It’s not what you think. We probably should have led with that,” Mingyu puts his hands up in defense. 

“Then what is it? I deleted it for a reason. Nothing on there should have seen the light of day, especially near the end,” Wonwoo says impatiently. He wants nothing more than to be rid of these little requests because he doesn’t trust any of them as far as he can throw them. 

“We need the reach to issue an apology,” Jihoon says simply. “We can’t do that with a brand new account.”

“An apology?” Wonwoo’s laugh gets caught in his throat because he never thought he’d hear something like this considering how evil they were last semester. “This should be good. Tell me more.”

“We’ve been talking,” Seokmin started. “We got carried away and we’d like to reel this back in if we can.”

“There’s not a lot of reeling back in you can do,” Wonwoo scoffs. “The damage is done. Now you guys get to feel guilty about it.”

“Yeah, that’s why we’d like to issue an apology,” Mingyu says. “So can you restore it or not?”

“No! The warning message says ‘permanently deleted’ for a reason.” Wonwoo lies through his teeth. He’s not going to tell him he didn’t hit delete. Instead, he’d changed the email attached to the account and hit ‘deactivate’. “Besides, an in-person apology will probably go much farther. If you’re apologizing to the person I think you’re apologizing to, she doesn’t even have a twitter account anymore to see it.” 

“I don’t think she’d want to see us,” Jihoon huffed. “Which is fair, I guess.”

Seokmin shrugs. “I don’t know, she wasn’t mean to me or anything when I was in the ER last week.”

Joshua has been silent the whole time. Wonwoo’s not sure why he’s even here because he might have been the cruelest of them all and hadn’t seemed to regret any of it. Wonwoo stares him down. “Are you part of this apology too?” He watches Joshua hesitate for a moment, then nod. 

Wonwoo purses his lips. “I can’t promise anything. They might really mean ‘permanently deleted’ when they say it.” He lies through his teeth again. He needs some time to think about it before he hands the account back to any of them. He glares at Seungkwan. “But I’ll be doing some major clean up if I can actually restore it.”

Seungkwan nods eagerly. “I would have done it anyway, but have at it. You’ll probably be faster at it anyway.”

“Great. But how do we make sure she sees it?” Mingyu asks. 

Something catches Joshua’s eye and suddenly he’s jumping out of his seat. 

~

If Joshua had to describe Seungcheol and Jeonghan in one word, he would say overprotective. He got that vibe at the dinner and movie triple date he met them at. He’s definitely getting that vibe now. In fact, he thinks they might leap over the table at any of them. Maybe Joshua first though with the dirty looks he’s getting.

Joshua has to talk fast to get them to agree to even sit down with the group at the table. Jeonghan even sets a timer for five minutes passive aggressively. 

They explain everything, starting from the psych experiment, to the dating app, the pranks,, the twitter account, and Joshua. Seungcheol and Jeonghan look totally unimpressed. Joshua gets that because it all sounds so fucking stupid now that they have to explain it.

“And you think an apology will fix this?” Seungcheol asks coldly. 

“We’d like to try,” Mingyu says weakly. He’s been feeling Seungcheol’s wrath for two months now. He doesn’t want to run anymore laps or do anymore pushups. 

“It better be a damn good one then. You know she almost didn’t come back to school?” Seungcheol snapped. 

“Yeah, we heard that,” Jihoon said, glancing at Joshua. “Look, we would approach her if we thought she would hear us out. But we’ve made a mess of this to everyone else that followed that stupid account and we need to correct this with them too.”

“I thought it got deleted?” Jeonghan asks, eyes narrowed. 

“That’s why he’s here,” Mingyu says, pointing to Wonwoo. Wonwoo waves him off with a simple ‘don’t talk to me’. “He’s going to try to recover the account. The problem is that we’d also like her to see it.”

Jeonghan scoffs, a bitter smile on his face. “Yeah, good luck getting her back on there.” 

“That’s what we’d like your help with actually,” Joshua started. 

Seungcheol and Jeonghan share a look. The timer goes off on Jeonghan’s phone, but they stay anyway. 

~

It’s Saturday morning and Y/N is busy hosting a sorority house meeting. The president and vice president have been away at a conference and won’t make it back in time to run the meeting themselves, and as the treasurer the duty falls to her. Her phone has been buzzing in her pocket the whole time and she keeps ignoring it. She’s thinking it’s Jeonghan blowing up her phone because he’s bored, something he likes to do when she’s inconveniently busy. She has no problem making him wait for a bit. 

But it’s becoming apparent that something exciting is happening what with the way all of her sorority sisters will not focus on anything she’s saying. It’s starting to get frustrating and when Y/N can’t take it anymore, she bangs the gavel as a call to order. “Okay, what’s going on? I’m trying to run a meeting here.”

A young sophomore named Ara hesitantly stood up, but she was smiling when she handed over her phone. “You might want to read this, Y/N.”

Y/N didn’t have to skim long before she mumbled, “Meeting adjourned. Have a good day, ladies.”

~

Did you miss us? Yes - us. 

I started this account a little over two years ago and have always enjoyed interacting with all of you. But if you’ve been a follower for a while, you may have noticed a shift in the tone of this account. You won’t find any evidence of that here now, but… if you know, you know.

That’s because this became a team project last semester. I’ll be honest. It was a revenge plot and as we look back on this plot of ours, we’re embarrassed. We all got carried away, some because of hurt feelings and some because of a desire to run a successful account with a thirst for drama.

So, here it goes. We built a dating app, the one that was posted on here a while back. It was used to make a match with someone that had the same kind of vendetta some of us had against Choi Y/N. 

While we waited for this app to be ready, we began pranking Y/N. At first, we thought it was harmless, but things escalated quickly. (Y/N, we still owe you a new laptop.)

When the dating app was ready, Joshua joined us with the goal of giving Y/N what we perceived to be a taste of her own medicine. We were cruel. Particularly near the end of the semester with our little exposé. 

We owe Choi Y/N an apology. A big one that we’ll probably never convince her that we mean honestly. For the pranks. For Joshua. For the way this account was used. For nearly ruining over 20 years of friendship between her and Yoon Jeonghan on a baseless rumor, and damaging the relationship between her and her twin brother, Choi Seungcheol. 

Y/N, if you’re reading this (and we hope you are), we’d like to start making this up to you. Reach out if you’re interested. 

Seungkwan, Mingyu, Jihoon, Seokmin, and Joshua

~Epilogue

Joshua sips his drink and looks across the table at Kim Mingyu and his date, Harin. The woman is nice but seems shy, or maybe even a bit nervous to meet any of Mingyu’s friends. Mingyu works with her at the architecture firm where they’re both junior partners on the same team. Mingyu’s told Joshua that he really likes her and Joshua can clearly see it. He’s got total heart eyes for her and everything she says or does. But the thing is, it’s their third date.

The number three is cursed in their friend group now. Three drinks is not the right number when they go out because something bad always happens - nothing tragic or anything, just a rough night of cleaning up vomit or carrying your friends home. That doesn’t happen with two or four drinks. 

If no more or no less than three of them can hang out, they don’t. Not in person, because they always seemed to find themselves in trouble - again, nothing tragic, just inconvenient things like Mingyu's car breaking down. And not even through things like FaceTime. One time, when Seokmin was traveling and wanted to chat, the power went out on the entire block leaving Jihoon and Wonwoo in the dark. Wonwoo laughed and said it must be the curse, until he realized he was being included in the curse now.

Joshua didn’t believe them at first when they kept saying they were cursed, but the kicker was how date number three was always the worst. It had become a big point of anxiety for all of them to get over that particular date if they wanted it to work out. This wasn’t just the core three that started that mess way back when. Seungkwan, Wonwoo, and Joshua had all had some bad luck too. 

So when Mingyu asked for some company on this third date that he really wanted to go well, Joshua had shrugged and said, “Find me a date.”

This has happened so many times that Joshua is not nervous for this mystery woman to show up. Besides, he’s too busy on his second drink. Clinicals have been kicking his ass and he’s stared at the ceiling every night this week wondering why he thought med school was a good idea. But he’s more than half way done, so after a little pep talk he decides to stick it out every time. 

“So where’s your date, Joshua?” Harin asks politely, trying to make conversation. 

Joshua shrugs with a laugh. “Ask Mingyu, he’s set this up.”

Mingyu is on his phone, texting someone. “She’s running late and has to come straight from work. She apologizes but we can order with out her.”

Joshua waves it off because he’s in no rush. “What did you say her name was again?”

Mingyu hadn’t said, actually, and he has a bit of a sly expression on his face when he glances up from his phone briefly. “You’ll meet her any minute. I think you’ll like her.”

“Do you set up your friends often?” Harin teases, but looks kind of confused when Mingyu and Joshua both laugh.

“Something like that. Oh, here she is!” Mingyu gestures to the restaurant entrance and Joshua turns. The woman is pretty, dressed nicely in slacks and a floral blouse. Joshua likes her already. 

He turns back to Mingyu instantaneously in amusement. “You have to stop doing this.” 

“Doing what?” Mingyu asks innocently. “Setting you up with a pretty friend of mine?”

“She’s going to yell at you again,” Joshua warns, still very amused. 

A purse slams into the seat next to Joshua. The woman scoffs, falling into it. “Kim Mingyu, I told you to stop trying to set us up.”

“Oh, come on! It would be perfect, Y/N!” Mingyu cries. 

Y/N looks irritated but Joshua can tell it’s mostly for show. They’re so close now that he knows when she’s just messing with Mingyu and the others like this. She responds this way every time they try to set Y/N and Joshua up. 

“Just say you hate me,” Joshua teases, wide grin on his face. 

Y/N’s having a hard time hiding her smile now. “I hate you, Joshua Hong.”

“Uh,” poor Harin starts, confused. “You two know each other then? I thought this was supposed to be a blind date or something.”

“Something indeed,” Y/N answers easily. “We’ve known each other for years. We’re in med school together and we’re also roommates.” Harin’s eyes flare and she gives a small confused, ‘oh’. Y/N waves it away, “It’s Mingyu being Mingyu. He likes to meddle in the love lives of others.”

Joshua laughs at the jab and how Mingyu rolls his eyes. It’s an old inside joke now, one that Harin doesn’t quite get, but they’ll leave it that way. 

During dinner, Mingyu and Harin ask about Y/N’s clinicals. They already know about Joshua’s because Y/N ran quite late today. Joshua’s not really listening because he already knows everything - the consequences of being best friends and roommates. They order anything except for three drinks and Harin is confused by their insistence. 

After their apology on that damned twitter account, it took almost two weeks before Y/N came around. The group was starting to think they were shit out of luck, but they had just decided to wipe their hands of it because they’d done everything they could do, just short of a face to face apology. They were sure she didn’t want to be approached and anything they could say would sound so lame anyway.

But the group had actually become pretty good friends over the course of their plotting, so they kept hanging out afterwards. They were all at lunch together one day when they hear a small cough behind them. Y/N looks nervous. “Do you mind if I join in?”

They really didn’t know what to expect when Wonwoo scooted over to share the bench with her. But it certainly wasn’t an, ‘I accept your apology.’

None of them really felt like they deserved it, but they started going out of their way to be friendly with Y/N. Inviting her to lunch with them, studying with her, walking with her to class. Seungkwan even let her hit the ‘delete’ button on the twitter account when Wonwoo handed it back over. 

And Joshua had made a lot of effort to go see her on the first floor of the hospital while they had their internship, even going as far as to take their breaks or walk back to campus together. And when they’d both gotten into the same med school and were looking for housing, they both kind of shrugged and picked a two bedroom apartment near the hospital. It had proved to be a good move if only because your roommate understood your weird schedules. Med school wasn’t for the weak and they’d found that out pretty quickly together.

So Y/N and Joshua had fallen into an easy routine. Go to class together, go to clinical rotations together when possible, and eat together almost every night. If they couldn’t eat together, one would make something and put it in the fridge for the other. They’d become each other’s biggest support system and every now and then he had to laugh at how they started because they meshed so well now. When they were doing each other’s laundry or bickering about ordering from the same sushi place again, he wondered why he wanted to hate her so much back then.

Because he certainly didn’t hate her. Probably never did. He actually loved her, usually in a platonic way. But every now and then there were reminders of what it was like back then. She was still pretty and funny and smart and charming after all and had the same effect she always did on men, including Joshua occasionally.

But she didn’t like dating. She flat out refused anyone that asked her out and only showed up to dinners like this because a friend like Mingyu asked her to. Joshua hadn’t seen her with anyone in nearly four years beyond these little blind dates. Some were with friends of friends, like Vernon and Soonyoung, Jihoon’s friends from college. But most of them were with Joshua when they could trick the two of them into showing up at the same place unknowingly. 

Their friends had gotten it in their head that Y/N and Joshua would be great together. And here’s the thing, Joshua didn’t hate the idea. But he knew Y/N did so he continually scolded them for how pushy they were. She always said she was too busy to date now, but he knew their little stunt years ago had left a mark. Y/N and Joshua had kind of hoped they’d forgotten about their little matchmaking venture because it had been a few months since a set up like this, but Joshua guesses they were wrong. 

Y/N and Joshua say goodbye to Mingyu and Harin and begin to walk home together. He’s pretty sure they look like a couple coming home from a first date. God only knows they get comments all the time about it, but they’ve stopped correcting people when they say something about it. Joshua still feels a bit of a rush when it happens anyway and it’s taken years for him to figure out why. 

Joshua thinks about what that would be like. In a lot of ways, nothing would change. She’s still warm to him, but sometimes he misses her touch. Sometimes when she’s had a hard day or is struggling with something, he’ll wrap his arms around her and he remembers being like this years ago, no matter how brief it was. He remembers them walking together just like this and her shyly reaching for his hand. Sometimes his fingers twitch with the desire to reach out.

But her hands stay wrapped around her stomach in the chill of the night so he doesn’t. He knows she wouldn’t want that. Which is just as well. He knows she’s a friend for life, one that he doesn’t really deserve. 

[vcrnons]

you have me intrigued about the dino dream

WHEJDJDHDH HELLO😭 ALL RIGHT SO HERE’S THE NIGHT DINO RUINED MY LIFE🫠🫠🫠

(i remember this entirely too vividly and that’s because sometimes i randomly think about it and it sends my entire day into a spiral, so im rly sorry for how long this is lmao) (writing this out has made me feel so incredibly delusional) (under the cut for length & also to prevent anyone who doesn’t want to be subjected to my dumb dream bs)

chan & i worked together and we were at some kind of a training day? type? thing? and i guess we must’ve been like passively flirty colleagues or something because when he came into the big training room (which we were all sat ON THE FLOOR IN??? where were the TABLES AND CHAIRS what even is my subconscious) he came and sat RIGHT next to me and we had this cute little small-talk moment before the actual training stuff started

so we’re sat on the ground and we’re being lectured about information governance and data protection and shit, and lmty i am NOT listening because i can’t stop staring at him??? fr my guy looked HEAVENLY you can’t blame me for this. N E way i’m sat like. knees bent & pulled up to my chest, he’s got one leg bent up, both his fuckin. strong ass arms wrapped around it. and one leg out flat because he’s insane and wanted me to suffer, probably. and i’m just trailing a finger up and down his arm the entire time, feeling his muscles, giggling to myself quietly and he keeps looking back at me and smiling and I WAS LIKE HELP. because. it was BLINDING and his eyes were so soft and i’m getting palpitations remembering it wait—

so we break for lunch, it’s a dumb little buffet style thing of just sandwiches and chips and that’s literally it. and we eat and everyone’s like “well this is shit” but it’s free food so we’re still going for it yk. good to know dream j takes food as seriously as awake j does. moving on!

a few minutes into this lunch he pulls me to one side and asks if we can talk so we went out into a corridor and apparently ig we’re in this big high-rise building with floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out over a city??? bro the view is INSANE. so. he gives me one of his AirPods, puts on a song, we’re just looking out over this city together and listening to the music. he turns the volume down and we start talking just quietly about fuck-knows-what, obviously it starts getting a little Juicy. we’re super close, basically in each others faces, noses TOUCHING. (what in the wattpad was i inhaling this day—) and HE TILTS HIS HEAD TO THE SIDE SO HES LIKE AN I N C H AWAY FROM KISSING ME AND HE SAYS “you know, if you wanted something more, all you had to do was ask”

SO OBVIOUSLY DREAM ME LOSES HER DAMN MIND AND NEARLY CRUMBLES TO THE FLOOR. LIKE. WHOOOO GAVE HIM THE RIGHT. WHO ALLOWED HIM TO BE SO SLICK WITH IT

and HE WENT IN FOR A KISS. BUT BECAUSE I WAS SO FKN NERVOUS AND THINKING “there’s no way this is happening rn—“, I SWERVED IT AND HE LIKE FREAKED OUT THINKING HE’D DONE SOMETHING WRONG SO HE RAN AWAY. I TRIED TO SHOUT AFTER HIM LIKE NO WAIT COME BACK BUT BRO WAS GONEEEEEEE

and then we had to go back into the training room so i went in and sat down where i was before but he SAT ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROOM LOOKING ALL UPSET. and im trying to make eyes at him like babe come back im sorry let me explain BUT HE WOULDNT LOOK AT ME. and then fuckin. seungkwan comes over, crouches down, and is like

“hey, please don’t mess around with chan. he really, really likes you. never shuts up about you. if you don’t like him like that, it’s okay, but please just be gentle with him”

AND HE WAS SO SWEET BUT I WAS LIKE BRO DONT FUCKIN— I LIKE HIM I JUST GOT SCARED TELL HIM TO COME OVER HERE RN

but HE DIDNT. so at the end of the thing I just went over and dragged that man by his shirt out of the room and threw myself at him and explained everything and THEN WE FINALLY GOT THE SMOOCH. AND IT WAS JUST REALLY FUCKIN. IT WAS A LOT. IT WAS VERY A LOT. AND IM STILL NOT OKAY OVER IT. IF YOU WONDERED 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠