#hyewon angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

syeollock · 5 months

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𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕 𝚏𝚝. 𝙷𝚢𝚎𝚠𝚘𝚗 𝚡 𝙼𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Tags : Light Angst, Drinking, Hate Sex, Rough Sex (It gets rough), Daddy Kink, Degradation, Belly Bulging, Fingering, and one mention of peeing.

A/N: First fic finally came out... Thank God! I just want to say thanks to @capslocked for introducing me to other writers that helped me out. Thank you @gangplanksorenji, @ggidolsmuts, @iznsfw, and @fillinforlater for editing and guiding a beginner like me. Also thank you to the other writers (that didn't want their name to be mentioned.)

A glimpse, no. Perhaps a little longer, a gaze maybe? How about something more drawn out, a stare? To and away, you stared. “This is getting dangerous,” you deemed all the while staring at her.

The two of you walked slowly in the wet, desolate streets—admiring the peaceful solace the night brought. The streets lighting up but dying down; a moonlight gleam hugged her delicate features. The midnight dress emphasised her pale beautiful skin, foregrounded by the starry night. The base of her neck—her defined collarbone seeping down to her chest—caressed by the midnight breeze.

The rushing rain trailed off of your face. Her hand held yours, pulling you through city streets. Twisting through your callous hand, your hands intertwined. A mistake maybe? No matter. If it was you from the past it might’ve posed a problem but not anymore. By pure instinct, you grasped hers as well, strengthening the purest form of human connection.

A light flashed at the corner of your eye, the bus stop sign reflecting the moonlight glare. She seemed to not mind the rain, but you didn’t want her getting sick. A pull, strong enough to take control but gentle enough not to hurt her, was all it took to break her gait. You pulled her towards the bus stop, sheltering the both of you from the rain.

Admittedly, you pulled her a tad too hard; and Hyewon, unable to stop, came crashing onto your torso. Not wanting gravity to take control, you stiffened up.

“Yah!” she growled.

Your arms welcomed the crashing Hyewon, wrapping her in a tight embrace. Wet. Both of your clothes drenched and hers even more noticeable—her soaked clothes clung onto her body, tightening around every single curve, the very definition of form-fitting. You felt it all: the warmth of her hand on your pecs and her hot humid breath making its way up to you.

Seeing her eyes squeeze shut and her lips quiver, you brought her closer to you—embracing her a little while longer in hopes of soothing her distress.

You held her by her shoulders, “Sorry! Are you ok?” full of concern.

She unwrapped her eyelids, “Y-yeah. I’m fine. You just… surprised me, that’s all.”

You plopped her down on the bench, safe from the rain. Shivering, probably because of the cold, you took off your coat and wrapped it around her—not taking “no” for an answer.

“Oh… thanks.” She looked up, her eyes like that of a raindrop—reflecting your irises into hers. Hyewon would normally be easy to read. She was the type of person to lay it all bare—making you comfortable knowing she didn’t have any ulterior motives, but this time felt a little different. Her irises reflected the care and intimacy you had for her. You tried to look away but you were immediately drawn back in.

You take a kneel, your face now half an arms length away from her, only now do you notice the peaks of her mounds piercing through her dress. Bare. With every breath, her thin frame expanded and contracted. The fragility of her body displayed itself in all its glory.

“It worked out anyways,” her voice brought you back to your senses, “You dragged us to where I planned to go.”

And so, you waited for the next bus to arrive. A moment of peace and tranquility, a moment so plain from which insanity can derive from. Yet you felt your consciousness ebb away, and as clear as your thoughts were mere moments ago, your head slowly swayed into the flow of the wind. At once, you were struck with a certain heaviness. Your head over your shoulder, on the lookout, only to see Hyewon’s head leaning against it. Unbeknownst to you, your cheeks flushed red like a paper lantern, the city serving as backdrop. Were you able to disassociate yourself tangibly, the scene transpiring right now painted a romantic cliche.

A beam of light made its way around the corner—the bus finally arrived. “Hyewon,” you shook her by her shoulders. A small shift but nothing more. “You’re joking?” you murmured.

“Where did she even want to go…?” A heave and a ho, you carried her like a log. The driver motioned towards an empty seat in the back row. You sat her down once again with utmost care to not wake her up. Her head flailed towards the window—thump, thump, thump—hitting the window as the bus rode through the bumps. Your hand broke through the space in between and pulled her head closer up against your shoulder, her head resting on your shoulder once again.

Deep asleep, she didn’t notice you going through her bag in search of anything indicating the location of her humble abode. It didn’t take long, Gyeoul Gong-gan Apartment Unit 381. “Wait… we live in the same apartment. What am I doing?” you mused, your thoughts clearly influenced by the devil’s nectar. With a tolerance stronger than most, weakness struck with a heavy advantage. Clearly not used to it, your eyes grew heavy and fell—only putting up a tiny struggle before your head soon followed.

Flashback…

The pitter-pattering of the rain echoed throughout your apartment. The once lively place now reflected the same gloom the weather gave off. Oddly enough, it was calming for you. It served as a nice distraction to what used to be an apartment teeming with happiness and laughter—enough to rack up multiple noise complaints—now filled with a dreadful quietness, constantly reminding you of your lonesome. Minutes slipped by without notice, you found yourself staring at the ceiling with no recollection of the events prior to your sleep. Whether it be the drinks or the stress of university life, nights were no longer the same. There was never a release, a sigh of relief like there used to be, but it was all a subconscious effort to distract yourself.

After a couple of seconds, your pillow started to vibrate, or so you thought. It took quite some time before you could get his body moving but you did. You have one missed call. Suddenly, you felt rejuvenated. “Did she call?” you scrambled out of your bed, “I knew it was all going to be okay.” And similar to that of a balloon, you deflated—shoulders slumping and your breath slipping out—just as quickly as you scrambled. “Hey man… wanna go out to eat,” the message read out, “Class is starting again, the others are worried about you.” It was your best friend, Seonghoon.

It’s been a while since your friend group last hung out together; and because of the pandemic, the first years of your university life took place online. Little did you know that this supposedly forgettable and uneventful time in your life would actually be your undoing. One that would imprint a mark inside that would slowly gnaw at you from the inside out. Like a boat hemmed in the fog—fog so light it looked like cotton, fog so light that you couldn’t help but underestimate it—the captain’s head on a swivel. So desperate, you looked for any light that shone through the softest white that enveloped you. Clouded. And there it was, the fire and the glow in the form of a girl. More luster than the starry sky and more luminous than the lone lantern in the night. Like the vacuum of space, she took you in with a pull stronger than that of black holes. The same dark nothingness in the middle of the starry sky, she was a person of immeasurable depth—an abyss, so enthralling you couldn’t let your gaze slip.

The fire that embraced you with the warmth in the cold darkness, turned out to be the same fire that would reduce you to ashes—to nothing but a former shell of yourself. She called the tune and you listened. The tidal waves that would move as the moon influenced. The same body of water that would be lifeless without movement, “Maybe it was for the better.” She pulled the string—the tension tighter than an ancient lyre—and you broke.

Your phone vibrates once more, this time an alarm. Laundry - 3:00 pm. It was that time of the week but this one was more important than the last. Everyone was getting ready to go back to face-to-face classes after two years and first impressions were very important. But with dark circles under your eyes and a gaze so flat, it cut the air—you weren’t in the most presentable state. It took some incredible self-persuasion for you to finally get moving. Granted, all you had done so far was wash your face and wear some new clothes, but it was a step in the right direction no matter how minute it was. After taking some time to fix yourself up, you scanned your apartment. The acrid smell of the multiple leftovers pierced your nostrils—strong and stinging, you choked up—finally snapping you out of your sad-stricken state, even if only for a moment. Immediately realizing the gravity of the situation, you hurriedly grabbed your washed and dirty clothes and took them down to the laundromat.

It didn’t take long for you to go down the flight of stairs and reach the laundromat. An orange hue struck past the window, a nice and calming atmosphere, or so it would have been if you hadn’t confined yourself in your room; essentially locking yourself away from all sunlight other than the dim and gloomy light struggling through the thickness of the curtains, like that of an eclipse.

It’s been six months since your apartment was last filled with the voice of another and even longer since you last met up with your friends. “Maybe I should go…?” you questioned yourself, “What if I kill the vibe though?” You went back up the stairs and cleaned your apartment while waiting for the laundry. It didn’t take long, as the orange hue was still there when you went back downstairs. Quicker than you thought, you found some free time; memories of smiles and laughter came flooding in. You had so much free time now… time that would have normally been spent wit—

The laundry came to a stop unnoticed, but the cycle signal broke your train of thought. You collected your clothes and brought them back up. 1… 2… 3… 4… The elevator taking longer than usual, your mind wandered once again. A tiny grin started to form on your face, quickly turning itself upside down. “Damn… I’m really gonna live with this for quite some ti—”

“Oh my God, it’s been so long!” a voice interrupted, “remember me?”

A dazed, “Huh?” slipped out; with furrowed brows and squinted eyes, you tried to identify the owner of the voice but to no avail. Silence filled the air momentarily, “Uh… I think you have the wrong guy,” you suggested.

“Oh, come on! It’s me,” she swiped a lock of disheveled hair, “How about now?”

Your jaw fell, words stuck in your throat, “Hye—Hyewon? What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean? I live here,” she retorted, “So… you’re getting your things ready for class, huh?” A puzzled look appeared on your face, “Don’t tell me you also go to Seoul University.”

“Also…?” her eyes widened, a realization, “What are you majoring in?”

“Architecture,” they said in parallel to each other. “Jinx! You owe me a soda,” she exclaimed.

“Wha—” a smug face greeted you, “How did you know?”

She turned her head away, “That’s a secret.”

“You can’t be serious, right? I’m busy right now,” you exhaled.

“You can just buy me one some other time,” she presented her phone, “Just give me your phone number. I changed mine a while back.” In a rush, you quickly put it in and disappeared from her view.

———————————————

The bustling city filled your senses: the people being dragged by the unseeing hand of capitalism, the awful artificial vibrations of the many cars racing to get to their workplaces, the smell of the tears of the hardworking man, and the swell of humanity creeping in everyone’s personal space. It all slowly crept in—like the vignette forming in your vision. All sounds slowly if not suddenly muffled themselves.

A tap on the shoulder, “Yo… you good?” your head subtly swung, mimicking that of a pendulum, a response but not to the question. “Y-yeah… Sorry, I zoned out.”

“It’s our stop soon, get your things,” Seonghoon told you. "By the way have you heard of the new—” A ring broke the one-sided conversation—Hyewon was calling. “Oooh, so you have got someone?” he teased.

You waved Seonghoon off and answered the phone. “He—Hi!” a snicker from Seonghoon earned another wave. The voice on the phone echoed, “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what I said last time? I was waiting for you, you know?”

“Right… yeah. Of course, I remember,” you replied, “There’s a Korean BBQ spot I know downtown. Are you free this Friday?” Your reply earned a smirk from your friend. “Alright then, just call me. I’ll pick you up.”

“And with that, the date has been set,” you exhaled.

Seonghoon’s brows furrowed, “It’s a date?!?!?”

Eyes widened, “What!? No, no, no! I meant the date September 14!”

A playful punch hit you on your shoulder, “Relax… I was just messing with you. It’s our stop by the way.” Seonghoon led the way while you followed. It was quite a trek before you would reach the main campus, eventually splitting up due to the difference in departments. You would then drag your drained self through the day, and all of a sudden it was nighttime.

The swell of humanity had already dissipated, and what remained were the remnants of people picking themselves back up from their busy day. There were also a few people—whether responsible or irresponsible, we’ll never know—burning the midnight oil. Some people were playing catch-up, while others were trying to get ahead of everyone else. It just made it clear that everyone was moving without a single care for your own problems.

And with less than three days to prepare and classes taking up most if not all of your time, it was physically impossible to be at your best.

The sound of sizzling meat mixed with the aroma of seasonings and sauces fill your senses as you enter the building. The aroma was intoxicating, causing your mouth to water—yet you couldn’t do anything but wait as you and Hyewon stood outside waiting to be ushered to your seats.

Korea just transitioned away from its pandemic protocols. It’s been ages since you last ate out by yourself, let alone with the company of someone else.

“Is it only going to be the two of you?” the waiter asked. You nodded in response.

“Just follow me.” The waiter motioned towards an empty seat. You allowed your partner to go first (now don’t get it wrong, you guys aren’t in that type of relationship) displaying your gentlemanly behavior. Partners, in a non-romantic way, just seems like the appropriate way to call it

The both of you sat down to where the waiter ushered you. You were welcomed by a soft yellow hue coming through the window from the lamppost outside. A calming atmosphere radiated from where you sat—the seats being padded which allowed for some of your stiffness to disappear.

Taking a short look around, your architectural senses started tingling. Things you wouldn’t have noticed before become apparent—Greek pillars lifted the ceiling to a higher degree than normal, to allow for a spacious and comfortable feeling, while small pots of flowers hung from the ceiling reminded you of ancient history, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon to be exact.

Ancient history… well, that’s another way to describe what you and Hyewon have going on. It’s been ages since you guys last met yet somehow you’re here eating with her, like it was just the good old days.

Anyways, it was kind of weird that a Korean barbecue restaurant had such a niche and unique design. The theme didn’t really match, like, who would pair the straight and harmonious architecture of the Greeks with a casual and relaxed establishment? The contrast between the two didn’t make sense from an outsider’s perspective but you guess it was a quality restaurant. There was an hour long line after all, so people must like it.

After looking around, you finally found your vision was naturally attracted to her face. You did look at everything else already so it just made sense to focus on the one last thing you haven’t paid attention to, whether on purpose or not.

Hyewon was definitely beautiful but you never really got a proper look at her. It wasn’t like you’d just randomly stare at her for a good ten seconds or so, that’d be weird… but it was happening right now. However, things are unexpectedly in your favor. Right now, all of her attention was directed towards the menu—if this was any other world, she’d have made a hole through the menu with how intense her gaze was.

It was clear she took great care of her appearance. Her skin was smooth to the touch, you imagine. Her lips were full and upturned at the corners, giving her a soft look of innocence. Hair, long and draped over her shoulders like the gentle waves of the ocean. Eyes, large and expressive—almost giving you a full view to what she was thinking—and her beauty was enhanced by her effortless charm and grace… or lack thereof. You knew that when it came to the grace part, she wasn’t the most graceful whenever food was in front of her.

You guys ordered some grilled pork belly accompanied by an assortment of side-dishes and some good old soju. With excellent service, your order arrived within ten minutes. She had just gone to the bathroom to touch up her makeup—so light that you didn’t even notice she had put it on. She returned at basically the perfect time.

“Hey! Are you going to help me or not?” She exclaimed, ready to put the meat on. You were staring at her again—no menu to distract her this time.

“Y-yeah… Sorry, I was just thinking about some things.” You reached out for the tongs she was handing you.

“It’s just our first week. Is there something wrong?” she asked with a hint of concern.

Eureka! The contrast between the straight and harmonious architecture of the Greeks and the relaxed and casual establishment perfectly reminded you of Hyewon. Her soft and innocent look, that just radiated charm and grace, was in complete contrast to how she actually acts around people. She was always a genuine person that did and said whatever she wanted. She never bothered to please other people just for the sake of it. Kind of weird that you’re comparing a restaurant to a person but that’s what happens to architecture majors.

You brushed away all of your thoughts. “No, no, no. It’s not a school thing,” you replied quickly, trying to clear her concern.

“Hmmm… If you say so.” She hesitated, trying not to pry. “Anyways, let’s start cooking for real this time. Let’s leave all that stuff for another time.”

You finally started cooking. You laid the pieces of meat over the piping hot grill. You watched as it cooked itself from the overwhelming heat coming from the grill. You watched as the raw fat from the pork belly slowly transformed to a nice golden brown and its juices slowly dripped off the edge. You were so absorbed into watching the meat being cooked that you didn’t even begin to notice the rustic scent of the grill slowly change to that of a tasty aroma. The sound of the crackling fat over the heat was nothing but music to your ears. You couldn’t read minds but you could tell that Hyewon shared the same thoughts as you. As far as you could tell, she was still the same Hyewon from your high school days that loved anything related to food.

You watched as the piece of meat slowly metamorphosed from a raw and inedible piece of meat to something irresistible.

Finally, it was time for you two to dig in. You reached out to grab the tongs and place the pieces of meat onto both of your plates.

Hyewon took the first bite with amazing speed as if it was a race. Her cheeks puffed up and just as quickly as she reached for it, she gasped for air. She made a fanning motion trying to get as much cold air in her mouth as possible. You offered her a drink to wash it down but she refused. She didn’t want her first bite to be diluted with alcohol.

“I know you want to savor it but… is this really the way?” you laughed as she stood up, trying to get even more air. It took a moment but she sat down soon after.

“Whew… That was an invigorating first bite.” She heaved.

“Yeah… Burning your mouth is definitely one way to feel alive and healthy,” you retorted. Concerned, you proposed a compromise to the hungry Hyewon. “Let’s eat some of the side dishes while we wait for it to cool, okay?”

“Fine…” her eyes downcast. The side dishes were quickly consumed, and it was, again, the time for the main dish.

You saw her all giddy and full of energy, making tiny quiet claps in anticipation—you couldn’t help but find it adorable. And for the rest of the main event, you found yourself constantly distracted by the amount of happiness Hyewon radiated with every bite. “So this is what parents feel like when they say that they can feel full just from watching their children eat,” you thought.

Some time passed by; conversations came and went, more pieces of meat were cooked and eaten, and drinks were poured and emptied.

“So… why did you major in architecture?” If it was any other person, it would’ve been difficult to discern what she just said. Hyewon’s cheeks were puffed up, trying to do two things at the same time—enjoy some food whilst talking to you.

“You know you shouldn’t talk with your mouth full right?” an awful attempt to change the topic. Her cheeks slowly deflated as the pork gradually melted inside her mouth. What should’ve been a good ten seconds, now became two. It was impossible for you to think of a response that fast—or at least an answer that would be believable enough. Running out of time, you deci— “Ok… so why did you major in architecture again?” she interrupted, her eyes lit up all proud and smug. Her face radiated like that of a golden retriever that just fulfilled its owner’s commands.

Your stream of consciousness wandered away. The numerous chatter, that once filled your ears, was now all muffled. The crackling fat on the grill found its way through the chatter to your ears, the aroma filled your nose. It was all so beautifully distracting.

“Hello??” her hand swatting the air in front of you, trying to get your attention. “Did you not he—” you stuffed her mouth with the last piece of pork. That should buy you some time.

You started to interrogate himself, “Why did I choose architecture again? Do they even make a lot of money?” subconsciously holding yourself away from the truth of it all.

Hyewon started chewing vigorously. The girl who always savored the last piece went out the window. The time that you bought yourself quickly ran out.

“Why didn’t she take her time with the last piece?!?!” you panicked.

“You do realize that that was the last piece right?” A pitiful last attempt to distract her from the topic at hand.

Her face quickly turned from one of eagerness and excitement to one of great disappointment. You saw her looking over the table, her eyes desperately panning left and right in search of leftovers. Sad to say, it truly was the last piece.

You saw her pouting—her face all scrunched up, hands clenched into a tight fist, her eyes downcast, and shoulders following the same trajectory—though unable to rid herself of her cute aura. You couldn’t take it seriously because of how large the contrast was, yet you knew the gravity of the situation. “Ehem…” you coughed, raising your hand in hopes of gathering the attention of an unoccupied waiter.

A good ten seconds passed by and you couldn’t help but be bothered by the daggers pointing behind your back. Wanting to correct the situation, you stood up—disregarding how you looked to everyone else—trying to get the waiters’ and waitresses’ attention.

“Could we get two more servings and some more drinks?” you said as you looked towards Hyewon, hoping to satisfy her. Arms crossed and lips pouted, she maintained her rigid and immovable stance. You knew she wouldn’t budge until you were actually able to replace what was taken away and then some. It took some time but she finally got around. Her once pouting face now held the crescent of the moon on her lips.

You reached out for the tongs once again and slowly distributed the meat onto their plates. Her face lit up every time he placed a piece onto her plate and drooped down every time you put one on yours. Noticing the small detail, you regretfully decided to just give the rest of the unclaimed pieces.

Her wide smile glistened, allowing the rest of her features to shine. She regained her radiance, the same radiance reflected onto him. And with the mood lifted by such a vibrant display, moments slipped by without notice.

Your hand interrupting the bustling atmosphere, you asked for the bill, to which a waitress arrived and gave, or so you thought. Another hand made its way to interrupt the waitress this time. The hand was delicate and graceful—slender fingers that tapered off into slender nails, wrists dainty yet strong and embraced by a simple hair tie. “I can pay. It was my idea anyway,” she protested. Fearing another fight, you decided to concede—but not entirely. The LED lights slowly crept in as the natural light slowly dispersed. “What if I offer to take her home?” you thought, “Hey—”

She interrupted, “You wanna drink some more?” presenting her hand.

She gathered her long locks of silky hair, “Wouldn’t want to be wasted so far from home do ya?” Her fingers worked gracefully—twisting and looping the hair into a tight bun, leaving some lengths untied for a slightly disheveled look.

“So… are you gonna take my hand or what?” She swiped the stray lock of hair from her face. Not missing a heartbeat, you took her hand—the very same hand you admired just a few minutes ago. To your surprise, her fingers intertwined with yours—an intimate and romantic gesture—but you had not a single clue if it held any meaning. Hyewon always had a problem with personal space and physical touch. “So this is what those boys, who confessed to her, felt.”

The cobwebs of your heart were slowly getting woven away. “Is this right? Am I allowed to feel like this?” The invisible vice grip returned, ever so slightly tightening in your solar plexus. To what should’ve been butterflies in your stomach, were the rotten cocoons all knotted up.

You shook your head in discord of your own thoughts. “Yeah… there’s no way. We literally just met again after all these years.” Hyewon pulled you by your hands outside, oblivious to your thoughts.

“Where exactly are we going?” you stopped in your tracks, forcing her to break her pace.

“Don’t worry about it,” she chuckled, “Did you always ask these many questions?” She tugged on you again, “Now, come on!” Forcing an exhale out of him, “Fine!”

Flashback end…

“Wake up you lovebirds!!” The driver yelled inside the now empty bus. Eyelids still heavy, everything slowly came into focus—your head resting on Hyewon’s. Somehow still asleep, “What the hell…? Is she a light drinker?” you carried her to her unit.

“Don’t tell me her keys fell out…” the slight jingle when exiting the bus replayed in your mind. Not wanting to leave her out in the open, you took her a floor down to your apartment.

Light. Your hands behind her knees, her breasts pressing onto you. You find yourself conscious of her braless venture with the way you felt her tits plunge itself, in its erectness, on your back; sending waves of sensation to and from your back.

You lay her down on the couch, dripping water all over the place. “How the fuck am I supposed to dry all of this?” Scratching your head, you began to unbutton your polo.

A hand slithers its way from the back of your shoulders to your abs—the finger tracing the definition of your muscles, leisurely admiring it. “I can’t believe your ex is missing out on this,” the girl whispers into your ears.

Earning a well-deserved shove, “Get the fuck off me! I’m letting this go just because you’re drunk.”

“Or what?” her voice alluring, tempting a reaction out of you.

A pinch to your temple—trying to hold yourself back, letting out an extended exhale, “I swear— say one more word and I’m gonn—”

A flash of light glared through the window—exposing her naked body, her transparent midnight dress gripping tightly—followed by a roaring thunder.

Don’t look. Your head turned away, you don’t see her approach you. A turn back and you’re greeted by her face, not a foot further—her face tilted, awaiting a reaction out of you. Eyes downcast, you’re taller than her, stronger than her, and yet it feels as though she has you under her grasp. She grabs your chin, “What now?” The water in her clothes weighed it down, slowly showing off more and more of her chest.

You grab Hyewon’s wrist, causing her lips to quiver. A twist and a turn, like that of a ballerina, you switch places. You trap her between your body and the wall, her hand forced by your own against it. “So you can take charge~” her voice trailed off.

“Fuck this.” You let go of her hand, the gentleness absent. You’re not falling for anything at this point. It’s clear she wants to rile you up… but why?

“It’s been six months right? Six months of no action too, I presume?” you see what she’s getting at.

“Was it all planned? Was that innocent display a lie?”

“Does that matter? I know you want me,” her finger peeling back her lower lip, “I’ve seen the way your eyes stare at me.”

“You’re not getting what you want, you know that right? I don’t know why I thought this shit would work,” you wave her off.

“I always get what I want~” approaching you ever so slowly. “Isn’t that right?” her hands curling behind your neck.

You prove her right—you lean in for a kiss, her hands pull on your hair, “Where did all that bravado go? Guess you were a bad boyfriend huh?”

You lift her by her waist, her body draping over your shoulders as you throw her onto the bed, not without a single smirk curling up her mouth, “There it is… there’s the man I want.”

“You fucking whore,” your fists clenching, “You think you can just come in here and do what you want? You don’t deserve any of that lovey-dovey shit.”

“Oh~ trust me. I don’t want any of that.” Hyewon crawls with no care in the world, her eyes focused on your bulge. Fuck. She lacks manners, lacks grace—her eyes completely bewitched. To her, you are her food for the night. Her teeth skillfully peels your underwear, revealing your cock. “Ooooh, big, veiny.” How phallic.

And suddenly, her grace comes back—the sultry grace of sucking your cock. She swallows it all in one dive. There’s no beauty behind it all, or at least there shouldn’t be. There was something hypnotic about how she stared at you with your cock in her lips.

Look down and all you can see is her disheveled hair with your hands gripping to the shape of her head. A subtle force keeps her plunging deeper and deeper to no end. Her tongue swirls around your cock, rubbing all over the veins, not leaving a spot untouched. Her nose plugged, her other senses heightened itself to that of a supernatural level. She feels you through the veins of your cock lodged in her throat, every throb and every pulse. She reads you completely—you weren’t thinking with your brain after all.

Not enough. You push her head deeper, her nose plunging deeper into your pelvis. Hyewon’s sultry grace disappears, “WAI-” The silent apartment, now resonates with the sinful sounds struggling out of her throat. “HMMMF!” her hands slamming onto your thigh. “Choke on it!” you punch it in. The walls of her throat begin to collapse, tightening. A cough, or so it should have been but instead she choked more on your cock, clearly too much for her to handle, the length forcing its way down even more.

Release. She pushes back, gasping for air. She needs oxygen and you deprived her of it. “I’m not done with you,” you grab her head and force your cock deep down her throat again.

“Stop, stop, stop! I can’t fucking bre- GOUHK!” A galore of drool seeped out the corners of her mouth, dripping down onto the already wet sheets. “Fuck you,” Hyewon slurs, this time you pull on hair. The constant bobbing continues, though not of her own volition. You press her head onto your pelvis one last time, this one stronger than all the others. Your spine buckles down—the same amount of force one would put when opening the lid of a jar, arms tensing and veins appearing—you unload onto the walls of her throat. The goopy, thick liquid forcing its way down to her stomach. Unable to take it all in, she pushes you away and coughs up the rest. You go along with it, feeling your load force its way out.

Hyewon lays down on her back, gasping for air, occasionally coughing up your cum like a broken water fountain.

“H-Holy shit… I almost died there.” Hyewon exaggerates as her fingers pull on the corners of her mouth, widening the moist entrance to show the masterpiece you created within her velvety walls—clumps of white semen sticking to her uvula, semen blending in with her ivory-like teeth.

“You’re not a one-hit wonder are you? If you were then I’d understand why she left you,” another remark looking to irk something inside of you. You pull on her ankles, “Ow! You could be much kinder to a lady like me, you know?” The sarcasm in her voice telling you she doesn’t give a shit about your feelings and your past.

Rip her dress off, “Fuck you! That was expensive.”

“You think I fucking care?” You shoot out a glare so flat it cuts the air.

“Oh~ I know you don’t,” she giggles, “Now fuck me like the slut I am will you?”

You twist her body—her back now facing you. Her hands unfolding her pussy, making way for your cock. A plunge deep inside, “Oh… fuck~ You’re so fucking tight.” Her plush flesh tightens around you. Hyewon’s hands are busy trying to keep herself sane—grasping at the sheets, almost ripping them.

“Yeah~ Just like that… daddy,” she turns around. You greet her face with a slap, earning a yelp. “I’m so fucking trashy right?” You hear the smirk in her voice.

“You’re not fucking learning are you?” her hair brutally balled up into your fists. Pull tighter—her back arching. Pull tighter—your other arm now putting her into a chokehold. You thrust into her, vehemently, without a single care. You have full control now. Let go of her hair and palm her abs, feeling your cock swell through.

“FUCKKKK!” She tries her best to push your arm away, “Fuckin- Stop! Stop pressing on it! YOU"RE GONNA RIP ME IN HALF!” She claws at your chokehold, trying her very best to get out. Fuck that’s hot.

It’s the way she surrenders every part of her body as you fuck the living shit out of her—well, it’s not like she has a say in the matter. You push her into any position you want. Manipulate her like a doll, existing purely for your pleasure.

The whines, the slurring of her voice, all of it so enthralling to hear. You feel her saliva drip onto your arms. You thrust harder than the last with every incomplete sentence coming out of her filthy mouth. With every incoherent word, your cock throbs. Every single moan now a glass-breaking scream. You’re piling on noise complaints. Harder. You’re really in it now—in her—almost fucking her ten crimes deep before you can relish in your high. The knot in your stomach is slowly unravelling, the floodgates are about to open. You’re remolding her into your toy—if only she wasn’t the one playing with your emotions but who cares, you were having the time of your life. Another rip-roaring scream, the last one. Now, everything that came out of her mouth was nothing else but a low grumble, her voice box pushed to its very limits.

Hyewon’s nails dig deep into your arms, “Ahm- I’M PEEING!” Her muscles contracting, her hips buckling. Your cock following the trajectory. She’s on her toes. You feel the warm fluid trickling down your thighs. You don’t let up; in fact, you squeeze tighter.

The whites of her eyes take over as they roll back in her head. A hand free, you go further. You mask her with your hand, her grumbles struggling through it. Every moan, every groan. You feel her depleting energy, channeled by her voice, propagating through your very veins.

Fall in love with the idea of sophistication, the assumption of carnal layers peeled back, to reveal the sin of lust inside such a person, peeled back one by one.

Take away a sapien. You were stripping her down to her very core, diluting it. Primitive. With pure instinctual fucking, you were singlehandedly reverting her DNA millennium’s back.

You free Hyewon from your clutches.

What a masterpiece to behold! Her body lays on the mattress—limp, almost lifeless. A quiver then and there easing your worries. Your floodgates open, you unload on her back—ropes of semen shooting out—marking her as yours. It fits her so well, almost like a back tattoo (but made of cum). The liquids making a cocktail in the sheets.

Your heart is beating out of your chest. You aren’t satisfied… yet. Your fingertips dig into her cheeks, “Fucking weak slut. All that talk for nothing.” Hyewon’s gaze is cloudy, she isn’t even staring at you. She’s drunk-dazed, almost jaded. You slap her face with your cock, “Wake up, bitch! We aren’t done!”

It’s a bit too late for some foreplay but here you are, rubbing her cunt vigorously. Are you starting a fire? One thing’s certain, her nerves are burning and you’re warming her up—her erogenous zones. Preparing them for the experience they’re about to go through.

Finger her. Your fingers—three to be exact—make their way through the ruined walls, like an explorer finding the ruins of ancient civilization. You feel some precum sticking to her walls. You bottom out, reaching the furthest your hand could go. You curl your finger in a come-hither motion, jerking it in a disorderly, primal manner. No techniques. It’s the pure girth of your fingers stimulating her G-spot, almost clawing at her walls, her body quivers with the slightest touch.

Hyewon, still unconscious, her body declares its sign of life with every single convulsion.

You don’t limit yourself. Your other hand making its way to her ass. What is meant to be a delicate spot—throw that out the window—you go at it with intensity. Rather than curling your fingers, you put pressure on the walls of her ass, working it in a circular motion—stirring it in its chaotic mess.

The obligatory orgasm, and when it eventually does come, like a dopamine hit, is thrilling and satisfying but for no more than a few fleeting moments but that’s all you need.

Her back arching, pelvis thrusting the air, her arms reaching for the ceiling, palms spreading to its very limit. Her liquids squirts all over your hand. You send an electric charge coursing through her veins, essentially resuscitating her, “HOLY SHITTT- LET ME TAKE A BREAK! PLEASE! DADDY! PLEASE! TOO MUCH! IT’S TOO MUCH! I’M CUMM-” Hyewon’s last words before passing out again. Her body crumples on the bed—her body in shambles, almost droopy.

A deafening silence fills the room, the only thing you can hear are your weary breaths. You just finished but are you finished? You look back, the view unlike any other. She’s a tool and nothing more. And despite looking pristine just moments ago—like a flower untouched, the color white personified—her body says otherwise.

How sinful. How tempting. She’s all that and she knows it. Hyewon may think she’s a devil but you beg to differ. A fallen angel you’d say. It’s almost artistic as to how much she encapsulates it without knowing so. The innocence remains the same, unaware of her surroundings and herself. Is lust a sin? You hear the moans reverberate from the upper floor. The normality of it all hits you. It’s an innocent sin. There’s no point overthinking. Enjoy yourself… just like Hyewon just now. You needed it, the release. “You could have been a lot kinder about your words, you know?” you give her a spank, blood vessels squeezing, your hands imprinting itself.

“You knew I was awake?” she looks back, struggling to sit herself up—her arms weak from what you just put her through. You lay beside her. “Yah!” You put her in your arms, this one a tender embrace.

Hyewon tucks her head under your neck, her finger tracing circles on your pecs, “Just so you know, I’m not taking back what I said. I don’t know her but she’s a bitch.”

You let out a chuckle as your fingers run through her hair, almost massaging her scalp. “Are you trying to score some good guy points now?” she looks up, her eyes devoid of ulterior motives.

“Is it working?” your other hand makes its way under her chin, caressing it.

Her lips quiver, resisting the urge to smile. “No,” she says as she hides her face away, pressing them onto your abs.

“Let’s get up by the way, your liquids are everywhere,” you punctuate.

You get off the bed, helping her on the way up, “I didn’t rough you up too bad, did I?”

An attempt to prove you wrong, she smacks your hand away, rejecting any form of help. “I’m an independent woman,” she says all smugly.

“Oh yeah?” you give her the side-eye, your fingers point toward her legs, “Is there an earthquake right now? You’re wobbling like crazy.”

“Fuck you,” she says just to immediately use your body as support. She looks up to see your smug face, “I hate you, you know that?”

“Your body sure doesn’t say so. But I still can’t believe you did all that… for me,” you grab onto her shoulders, standing her straight.

“I did all that for you—your cock all right? Don’t get it twisted,” you twist her body, then carrying her like a princess, “Yah! Put me down!”

“Or what?” you lean in closer, almost biting her ear. It sends shivers across her body, you feel the way her body just shivered, “You’re turned on again, aren’t you?” Met with silence, the sensation of wetness on your arm serves as her answer, “Just… don’t say those things next time, okay?”

“Who says there’s gonna be a next time?” shuffling in your arms.

“I did,” you give a light kiss on her forehead, “You were just lucky I gave in to you this time.”

“And if I don’t stop talking shit about your ex?” she crosses her arms.

“Then I’ll make sure you’ll be the one to give in,” you carry her towards the bathroom.

“Well… she’s a bitch,” you give her a glare, “Now, teach me a lesson in the shower will you?”

A/N: Hello!! I finally got this out! It took longer than I wanted since I got sick, and I just couldn't write properly. I got some more time now so hit me with some asks/requests. I might do them... but what's for sure is another fic before February ends. -🔎

#kpop gg #idol x male reader #kpop smut #izone smut #kang hyewon #hyewon smut #kpop fanfic #male reader #kang hyewon smut #girl group smut #smut #light angst

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multiphandomunnies · 3 months

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i*zone

reactions

bf picks them up and carries them bridal style

bf is mad

saying they regret their relationship

imagines

wonyoung

in-store

a little bird

finally

complicated

soulmate au

eunbi

glad to work with you

mutual misunderstanding

you’re the one for me

universe is against me

minjoo

love hurts

biggest regret

confession

hyewon

pep talk

don’t eat my food again

gf! hyewon

chaewon

won’t stop staring

quick kisses

always cute

#izone #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop reacts #kpop reactions #izone imagines #izone fluff #izone scenarios #izone reacts #izone reactions #wonyoung #eunbi #minjoo #hyewon #chaewon

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continueegglipse · 2 years

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House of Cards ━☽ LOOΠΔ [Lipsoul] ━━♡ slowburn ━━♤ modern/college AU ━━♢ childhood friends to lovers ━━♧ AO3 [23 chapters | 180k words | COMPLETE]

#lipsoul #continueeclipse #fanfic #rpf #loona rpf #also includes #chuuves #hyewon #hyunrry #ryeji #angst with a happy ending #angst #slowburn

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jiminrings · 3 months

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fail-safe (3)

pairing: yoongi x reader

wordcount: 14k

glimpse: you hear everything you've ever wanted, but you don't know if it's too late.

alternatively, yoongi is consumingly yours all the time.

[ part one, intermission, part two, intermission 02, finale ]

[ still angst (but u can breathe now bc it’s the finale), brother’s best friend AND single dad au, jealousy, yearning from all angles, did i say angst alr (mom-wise and brother-wise), fluff, redemption ]

notes: this is it for the chronological series of fail-safe :-) from the bottom of my heart thank you so sooooo much for reading n loving!!! sharing fs with the lot of u is an experience (and era) i'll never forget!!!

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! | series masterlist

Your trip back home isn’t as rough as you expected it to be.

Somehow, there’s a huge difference between coming home alone and coming home with Jungkook. There’s an irreplaceable weight in your chest that still flares even at the mention of Yoongi, the anger you have towards him mixing with the trepidation of holding everything in you, not just him, for another three days. There’s an angry rash around your fingertips just waiting for you to pick on your nails until they’re raw because atleast in that way, you get to forget the way Yoongi’s hand picked up yours in the dark.

There’s an ache in you that not even Yoongi and Hyewon could undo by never having met in the first place. It’s long been there, perhaps even older than Haneul. The ache of unfulfillment in you is bred by everything significant in your life — all from your first argument with your mom because of your lack of direction in life, to your latest heartbreak that keeps manifesting into your first ever.

You're no longer angry recounting the fact that you weren't destined for greatness. Namjoon turned out beyond great, world-renowned even, despite living in the same home that you did. Maybe it's not your environment or your lack of a passion that hindered you — maybe, it's just you alone.

Maybe, some part of you had ached too much from reaching (read: loving) too far up, you're doomed to live the rest of your life unfulfilled. Yoongi's never been yours, but the way your heart withdraws from him is as if he's always been.

You've done your share. You've completed your fill. You've worked yourself to the bone to make anything (not something, and certainly not everything) out of yourself that even if you're not decorated in sports like Namjoon nor celebrated in music like Yoongi, you have a fail-safe to fall back on.

You're earning more than the white collars you could recognize from your old yearbook and even if it's to look after someone, to look after Jungkook and his craft, and neither use your actual degree nor make a name out of yourself — a part of you feels fulfilled.

If being fulfilled meant being in the shadows as a manager; if it meant caring for someone in a professional context yet in a way you've always known with practice, with love, through the years– you'll take it.

You'll take the peace of being fulfilled without a trophy than to be listless trying to compete for first place.

You're fulfilled now to be sitting at the passenger seat of your own car because despite having never been to your place anymore, Jungkook fought with you in order to get his hands on the wheel.

You're fulfilled now, even if you only took Jungkook's silly suggestion (read: insistence) of fake-dating him just so you wouldn't have to face your family and Yoongi alone. You're fulfilled despite having no real place in neither men's lives.

Oddly enough, Jungkook wants to be both. He wants to be fulfilled and compete for first place in a position in your life that he can't even say to your face.

Jungkook holds you right in the middle of the living room, his eyes wide and grin sparkling as if the director had already said action! and the task for him was to act out what being in love looked like, right in front of his female lead's family in her childhood home. (Read: he isn't acting at all.)

“And he’s…?” your mom lets the question hang in the air, eyes trailing from Jungkook’s face, to his bicep, to how his forearm fits snugly against your back and his hand curls around your waist. Your mom visibly looks surprised, although you don’t know if it’s about the fact that you actually came back despite everything, or if it’s because her favorite actor is in her kitchen while she’s sweaty in an apron, or if it’s because said favorite actor leaves no space between the two of you.

“Jeon Jungkook, ma’am. It’s nice to finally meet you,” he greets politely, a little jittery now that he’s face-to-face with her. He’s only heard of the woman she is from you and as much as he tried to picture her from memory, your stories don’t do her much justice. Jungkook’s always loved your kind eyes and your sweet smile, but he knows now where you’ve got it from; in fact, if he turns around right now right after shaking her hand and bowing profusely, you’re showing exactly those to him — that, along with a pair of gazes he can’t place.

Those gazes aren’t kind at all. One is confused and dumbfounded, and the other harbors nothing but hostility and anger.

“Sweetheart, I know you. Who doesn’t?” your mom’s at a loss for breath, mouth still agape as she keeps flickering her eyes between the two of you. She knows that you’re his manager, but what she doesn’t know is why the Jeon Jungkook is in her humble kitchen of all places. He has the most expressive and sincere eyes ever — he can’t possibly mistake your childhood home as a filming set and your waist as a hand rest.

You finally placate her thoughts when you speak, the loaded silence between the three of you (it’s buzzing with tension if you account for the other two) breaking. You actually giggle, your laughter taking the load off her shoulders because you’re happy; you don’t feel an ounce of guilt even if you’re lying to her face.

“We’re dating, mom,” you grin. “Jungkook’s my boyfriend.”

Jungkook smiles automatically, feeling your hand snake towards his own. His palm’s much bigger than yours yet it’s warmer than you’ve ever imagined, the envelope both of your hands make putting you at ease.

Your mom’s gasp bounces across the walls. Namjoon’s head that’s only been lowered the entire time you’ve been back suddenly whips to look at you and Jungkook. The fridge even lowers its hum to make way for the theatrics aimed at you, yet your eyes are fixed on your mom’s and Jungkook’s alone.

You came home for her and with him. You’re not here for anyone nor anything else because it’s merely a play for your survival, only this time, Jungkook’s hellbent on increasing your odds.

Yoongi freezes evidently, hand tightening around Haneul’s bottle as if it would do anything to release the red from his vision. He staggers silently, breathing suddenly ragged as he stares down at the offending steel cylinder. It’s small. Compact. If anything, he figures it would hurt if he were to throw it at anything. Anyone. Someone, even.

“Wow, that’s.. that’s amazing!” she embraces the both of you, making you and Jungkook share a gaze you only laugh through because he actually looks honored.

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m sorry I haven’t had the time to let you know personally,” he apologizes meekly for a mistake that isn’t even one in the first place, the humility in his tone making your ears perk. It’s Jungkook onceagain with the apologies towards you that he shouldn’t be making at all, and yet, even in front of your family, he persists.

Jungkook apologizes even for the things he hasn’t done, not because he plans on doing them, but because a large part of him wants to be in the actual situation wherein those mistakes were merely possibilities.

“It’s no problem at all. You’re busy getting all these awards, I know how that’s like,” she jokes, unable to stop smiling. “I’m just glad someone’s taking care of my baby.”

“And I don’t plan on missing a single day, ma’am.”

“Stop that,” she chides, shaking her head eagerly. “You can call me mom.”

Yoongi lets the bottle clatter to the sink.

( ♡ )

Yoongi hadn’t been able to sleep last night.

He’d woken up in a cold sweat hours before his alarm was supposed to go off to cook dinner for everyone, even if it was only yourfavorite. The anxiousness that bubbled in his veins when he was asleep was going to burst and while Yoongi thought nothing of it initially, he realizes in panic that it was actually pointing to something.

He woke up next to Haneul and he was placated momentarily, but the knot tied around his heart tightens twofold when he sees Hyewon on the same bed.

On your bed.

The guilt that filled Yoongi then was enough for the bile to creep up into his throat, making him stagger outside to find Namjoon pacing right outside of his own bedroom. His personal phone’s tucked in between his ear and his shoulder, his hands preoccupied scrolling through whatever it is on his work phone. Yoongi momentarily stops his panic to inquire why the hell Namjoon’s panicking and why did he just see a glimpse of your social media accounts pulled up to the screen, your following list staring your brother in the eyes.

“What? What happened? Is it Y/N?”

Namjoon only looked at him with nothing but pity and guilt, the resentment he had for himself bleeding through the way he shifted his gaze to him.

“She saw you and Hyewon.”

Yoongi hadn’t been able to sleep since.

He didn’t even blink when Hyewon thanked him and said her goodbyes. He wasn’t even fazed when his ex-wife kissed Haneul goodbye and his son only resumed playing with his blocks. Yoongi hadn’t even tended to himself throughout the entire night, surrendering himself to be awake in your couch in the far event that you’d come home.

Yoongi wanted to follow you home, except almost exactly similar to the past, he had chased you out of what’s supposed to be your own home in the first place. The difference now was that he didn’t mean for Hyewon to be on your bed at all, let alone your room, but in the back of Yoongi’s thick skull — he figures that it won’t be enough for you.

Yoongi waits for you all night throughout the morning like a loyal dog waiting for its master, his chest rising up and down in hope yet his chin down in despondence. You do end up coming back home though, but your presence is neither unaccompanied nor for him.

With you is Jeon Jungkook, your boyfriend.

If only Haneul hadn’t asked for his bottle to be brought upstairs because he’s watching cartoons on Yoongi’s laptop, he would’ve collapsed on the floor then and there, uncaring of the way everyone else would be looking down on him.

If only Namjoon’s gaze wasn’t flitting to him to gauge his reaction because it’s the first time he’s, or by everyone else rather, hearing that you have a boyfriend, Yoongi would put his hands on his head and curse until his piercing migraine suddenly disappears.

If only your mother wasn’t here, frozen in the kitchen mostly because of what you just revealed and who you came home with, and partly because she’s waiting for him to finish washing Haneul’s bottle, he would’ve thrown up right in the sink.

Yoongi gathers all his pain and keeps it shut within himself until he gets you alone, catching you by the staircase when everyone else has dispersed.

“I’m sorry. Namjoon told me what you saw and-…” he stops himself when you look up at him with an innocent yet empty gaze, the weight of it (or lack thereof) startling him. “Let me explain why Hyewon was there in your bed.”

“I don’t want to listen,” you enunciate clearly, keeping your voice down because both Jungkook and Haneul are a few steps away. You do it for their sake and not for Yoongi’s, the bitterness in your chest physically restricting you to think about his state.

Yoongi pushes on, breath already catching in his throat when you’re still stiff as a stone. You haven’t even made a break for it yet; he only unconsciously held onto you out of fear that you’ll be out of his sight. “She was in the area because her parents are old and they don’t know much about selling their house here a-and well, she knows that I did the same for my parents when they sold ours. Nothing happened. I just helped her with the sale! S-she was playing with Haneul in the living room while I napped a-and, I just… when I woke up, they were right next to me. Y/N, I swear, nothing-…”

You shake your head fervently, the innocence of his reason doing little to break the seal in your stomach. You feel it dropping once again and even if Yoongi’s right, even if he’s saying the truth, the sight alone of him appearing to be a part of a happy family jogs up all the pain.

“I don’t want to listen and you don’t have to explain either.”

“But I hurt you. That’s why I want to explain,” he stutters. Yoongi’s eyes are so glassy, you could see your reflection in them.

“Oh. So you know,” you whisper, teeth harshly digging into your bottom lip. “I hate Hyewon for a lot of things but not for being the mother of your child. That’s out of my reach. I get it. She’s his mom and that’s that,” you admit, the vacancy in your chest and on your ring finger reminding you what Yoongi had never given you the chance for. “What I hate is that you let her sleep in my room. Seeing Haneul in there is good. You and him? That’s okay because I let you sleep in there,” you heave, voice close to breaking because of how you force it to be tamped down. “I hate how you let her sleep in my room, Yoongi. I-I, I fucking hate it because it’s just like that time I caught you practically fucking her in my room.”

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t-…” Yoongi sniffles, tears already pouring. The staircase in your house is far too narrow to hold the both of you, let alone your history. “I didn’t think. I didn’t notice, a-and, I didn’t think. I didn’t think at all, Y/N. I thought it was okay for a split second because we looked like-…”

“A family,” you finish for him. “I get it. I do,” you nod your head fervently, your own hand snaking to your lips to stop the sharp inhale that pains you from the inside. “Almost everyone loses their sense of reason when it comes to family.”

“I didn’t notice she already entered the room. But I-I woke up,” Yoongi still swears up and down, adamant on his truth that you aren’t open to entertaining because he’s hurt you far too many times before. “Hyewon and I… we’re not. We’re co-parenting.”

“Still a family.”

“But-…”

“What the hell do you want to hear from me, Yoongi?” you snap, voice finally toning down when you notice faint footsteps coming from the second floor. “Do you— do you want me to agree with you and say that the three of you aren’t a family? And for what, s-so that could somehow excuse you for everything you’ve done? I don’t even know what family’s supposed to mean at this point!”

From upstairs, Namjoon suppresses a sob.

“My mom doesn’t know a single thing about all of this. I-I can’t even cry to her because I’m thinking of you. I’m thinking of protecting you, your son that she looks to as a grandson, a-and even your mom who’s her best friend,” you break into tears, ignoring the baby towel that Yoongi keeps on his person all the time that he offers to you. You sound far too defeated, and maybe you actually are, that Yoongi lets you push past him. “Meanwhile, my own brother probably knows everything but his first instinct is to protect you. Not me, his actual sibling. You.”

Namjoon had been waiting for you upstairs. He’s been barricading the door to the bathroom because he knows you can’t go to bed without your nightly shower, and because he knows that out of every space in the house, it must be the only one left wherein you can be truly alone with no hint of Yoongi.

“We have to talk,” he gets out as soon as you make eye contact with him, the towel that’s slung on your shoulder almost falling at the urgency to which he pulls you aside.

“It can wait.”

“I need to apologize,” he pleads once again, gripping your wrist gently like he had always done when you were kids to get you to listen to him.

“And I said it can wait. I can’t stand you right now,” you grit, the tears on your cheeks barely being dried up when Namjoon, unsurprisingly, decides to apologize to you within the same timeframe as Yoongi. They hadn’t planned it at all — the guilt and remorse weighed far too heavy for them to actually communicate.

“Where will you sleep?” he asks instead, exhaling heavily because you’re insistent on not crying again in barely your first night back, again. “Where will Jungkook sleep?”

“We’ll sleep together in a hotel.”

“Hotel?” Namjoon asks loudly, eyes bulging in shock. His voice is far too loud that everyone in the house (and maybe even your neighbors) must have heard him. “That’s nonsense. This is home, Y/N. You don’t have to book a hotel.”

“It is?” you seethe, your closed fists tightening on themselves painfully. “Did you also say the same thing to Hyewon? To Yoongi in the first place?”

“It’s my fault for-…”

You’re unaware that you and Namjoon are neck to neck until your mom chimes in out of nowhere, her gentle eyes asking more questions than she’s actually uttering. “What’s going on?” she switches her gaze between you and him. “Are the two of you fighting?”

“No,” you answer in unison, unable to fit a relieved sigh in between the terse silence.

“It’s nothing, mom,” Namjoon puts a hand on your shoulder, his smile tight and tense. “I was just telling Y/N that she doesn’t have to book a hotel.”

“Why would you book a hotel?” she gasps incredulously, her tone being the exact copy of Namjoon’s just a second ago.

“It’s just crowded in here, mom. That’s all,” you muster a sheepish smile, your posture slouching the more you realize that there’s no way out.

“I can ask Yoongi and Haneul to transfer to Namjoon’s so you can-..”

“No-!” you interrupt her in a hurry, breath hitching at the mention of him. “No, no. That’s unnecessary. I don’t want to sleep in my room.”

There’s a loaded pause between all of you, even between the door that Yoongi has his back on as he listens in.

“You and Jungkook can take my room instead,” Namjoon insists, his offer only barely scratching the surface of the apology that you truly deserve.

“Great. Thanks,” you conclude, already halfway into the bathroom when the sudden thought strikes you, your curiosity (and limit, by extension) getting the best of you to ask Namjoon while your mom’s still here. “How… how much longer are they gonna stay here?”

“I… haven’t asked yet,” Namjoon admits, the animosity you have towards Yoongi not going unnoticed by your mother.

“You need to ask then,” you quip. “This house is too small to have everyone and anyone.”

( ♡ )

Jungkook woke up in peace from sleeping in a bed that isn’t his.

Even before you actually got to shower (and not just sit on the toilet seat whilst trying to compose yourself) since you forgot to retrieve your clothes from your suitcase, Jungkook was already starfished in the middle of Namjoon’s bed. It’s a touching sight atop your own blanket and bug spray that your brother put in for you.

The two of you are far from okay. As a matter of fact, the only people you’re truly okay with in the house is your mom and Haneul; despite knowing that fully, Jungkook still dived in head-first in the middle of your situation. You’ve tried to dissuade him all throughout the five-hour long car ride, and not once did he even budge.

He’s here for you and no one else. He’s snoring in the middle of your sibling’s bed whom you aren’t in good terms with. He’s at ease with you in a province that he’s never stepped foot in, all because he felt compelled to protect you somehow and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Jungkook cares for you, enough to write a note and place it beside him just before he went to sleep, telling you that he’s a messy sleeper and to either jolt him awake to move or just manhandle him to the side so you could also sleep on the bed.

You go for the latter, trying to pry him as gently as you could (but even if you just hauled him like a sack of potatoes, he still wouldn’t wake up because he’s at ease too much; it’s you, of course) before finally calling it a night.

You may have lied awake mulling over the perpetual ache in your chest, but you didn’t cry at all.

Eventually, you fall asleep to the sound of Jungkook snoring.

Jungkook may have slept earlier than you, but he makes sure that you stay in late. (read: he physically tucked you into bed so snugly, you probably can’t even shift your shoulders by a centimeter). He wants to pull his weight around a house he hasn’t even been in, even if you hadn’t asked him to — you’d never do, because even as a manager and not as a fake-girlfriend, you don’t let him lift a single finger. Simply put, Jungkook feels this massive pull, not to perform for you, but serve you.

He finds himself quietly going down the stairs, still in his socks because you had stolen his house slippers just last night and he doesn’t have the heart to ask you to give them back. He’s quickly figured out the kitchen, getting a soup started before he allows himself to sit on the dining table by himself.

It turns out that Jungkook’s not alone at all.

“Hi.”

His ears perk at the soft voice that comes from the side of him, eyes immediately setting on the toddler who’s still dressed in his pajamas and has a similar case of bedhead to him.

“Hey buddy. Nice bangs,” Jungkook chuckles invitingly, pulling out a chair for Haneul to which he gets up on easily by himself.

“My appa cut them for me,” he answers with a smile, shyly pointing to Jungkook’s forehead with an eager finger. “You have bangs too. Who cut yours?”

“My girlfriend. I think she can be a hairstylist one day,” he hums, not feeling guilty over lying to him when it’s only a half, easily-corrected lie. You may not be Jungkook’s actual, real girlfriend, but you did cut his bangs when he asked you to. He couldn’t be bothered going to the salon and you didn’t have the energy to argue with him otherwise, so that’s how he ended up with choppy, viral (it only became viral because he has them) bangs that gained him a few dozen articles or so.

Jungkook doesn’t have kids of his own, but what he does have are several nephews and nieces. He’s the youngest of four children, and that’s perhaps the reason why he could empathize with you. He’s never been through what you have, and although you would never wish for him to do so, a part of him wants to know what it’s like — not because he seeks the pain, but because he wants to know how he could empathize with you better

With Jungkook being Jungkook, it’s perhaps the reason why he’s one of the gifted few people who could strike up a sensible conversation with a toddler and make them laugh without doing anything at all.

Something about Jungkook makes Haneul laugh so loudly, he wakes up almost everyone in the house in peace. Even Jungkook’s attempt at lame jokes tickle Haneul more than the way Namjoon’s ever tried in earnest to make him laugh.

You’ve already slinked past the two of them on the dining table, tending to the soup and the few hundred side dishes Jungkook started on but paused just to talk to Haneul.

“Haneul, don’t believe your uncle-…” you chime over a playful dig that Jungkook makes in your expense, the giggles that had only been filling your ears just seconds ago instantly ceasing when you notice Yoongi standing near you.

“Uncle?” he raises his brow at you, turning his attention to his son. “Haneul, what did I say about talking to strangers?”

“But he’s not a stranger. I saw him in that movie!” he frowns, the immediate awe that slips out of Jungkook’s lips not helping his case in the slightest.

“Still a stranger,” Yoongi smiles tightly, his exhale dragging out as he mulls over the eerily domestic sight of the three of you.

“But he’s Uncle Kook,” Haneul reasons with him, pointing his finger at you. “He’s auntie’s boyfriend.”

Yoongi’s softened a little bit since breakfast.

He was never mad at Haneul in the first place (more like halfhearted because he still stands by his lesson of not teaching him to talk to strangers, even if they’re a worldwide-famous actor, but those are not his words at all) but what he is annoyed about is the scene that he walked into.

It looked far too natural for you to look like Haneul’s mom and for Jungkook to look like him, maybe even better as a dad despite not having children at all, that he thought he was seeing red.

Haneul’s lying on his shoulder as they rewatch Bluey for the second time in the living room, the shadow of your alleged boyfriend walking past him until he registers the accent, later doing a quick turnaround that makes Yoongi ultimately irritated and Haneul more than happy.

“Oh cool. I love Bluey!” Jungkook says sincerely, inviting himself to sit on the lone sofa chair to watch the episode.

“Wow, you’re just so… quirky,” Yoongi mutters under his breath with a roll of his eyes, his snarky remark making Jungkook’s ears tingle. The latter scoffs slyly, making him finally acknowledge Jungkook, albeit sarcastically. “So what do you do, Jungkook?”

Even before he could answer though, Haneul does it for him with an excitement that only comes out whenever he’s talking about his favorites.

“We watched his movies in the cinema, appa! Remember?”

“Did we?” Yoongi narrows his eyes, playing his huff into a cough. He repurposes the tinge of embarrassment that he feels into snark, running a hand through his hair cockily. “I’d for sure remember an actor if they were good.”

( ♡ )

“Where’s your brother? I need him to do the heavy lifting.”

Your mom asks you with an urgency that parents only past the age of forty could possess, her lips already parted awaiting your response towards a question she asked just two seconds ago.

Even if you weren’t engrossed on an episode of Bluey (Jungkook and Haneul put you into it and you get their laser focus now) just now, you still wouldn’t know about your brother’s whereabouts. Yoongi saves you this time, his response piquing both yours and Jungkook’s interest.

“He’s in practice. Joon took Haneul with him so he could learn too.”

Jungkook looks up from his phone sharply, eyes wide in eagerness. He and Yoongi haven’t even looked at each other since yesterday yet their coordination (read: competitiveness) syncs with the other at the exact second, their insistence on tagging along a menial task making you jolt.

“I’ll come with, mom!”

“I’ll come with, auntie.”

It’s not a competition, yet Jungkook jumps up to stand so quickly, his head almost brushed the ceiling. “Let’s go, babe,” he holds out a hand for you, making you clear your throat as you’re still trying to gauge the situation.

“But what about Yoongi? Poor thing, he’ll be left alone,” your mom awes, her pout only deepening when Yoongi pretends to look crestfallen at being overlooked. He doesn’t have to pretend that much because despite not being the biggest fan of grocery-shopping, especially in your area because it always smelled of eggs despite barely carrying any eggs, he’ll jump at any task to impress your mom, and you by extension.

“I don’t think you should worry-…” you start, already being interrupted in an instant.

“Oh come on, Y/N. Two pairs of hands are better than one! They really have to do some heavy lifting because I forget to tell you about that one time your aunts hounded me for-…” she trails off while telling you a story about your supposedly huge extended family, blissfully unaware that there’s two men fighting to open the door for the both of you.

Yoongi’s driving his car as the most spacious option, making Jungkook snicker under his breath as he blames himself for not bringing his SUV which is clearly more expensive than whatever Yoongi’s driving, even if you elbow him lightly by the ribs because you didn’t ask him to do that.

“Mom, what are you doing here? Go sit in the front,” you nudge her, unwilling to sit next to Yoongi in an enclosed space.

“Oh, right! Sorry, I was just used to you always taking shotgun whenever Yoongi’s driving,” she squeals, fondly clapping to herself as she revisits the memory. “Do you remember that, sweetheart? You’d always fight with Namjoon because Yoongi got his license first.”

It may only be your mom who’s leaning against the center console to look at you in the back, but it doesn’t mean that Yoongi’s ever taken off his attention from you.

“I remember,” Yoongi smiles, looking at you from the rearview mirror. “I never forget.”

The grocery store hasn’t changed one bit.

It still smelled of eggs, the lights still aren’t as bright as they should be, and there’s still trinkets that you’ve always been swayed by being displayed near the register.

You’re taking it all in after not having been back for five years, whereas Yoongi strolls right in, but never ahead of you, as if he’s visited multiple times already since he left your town.

Your mom and Jungkook are side by side as he asks her a question you can’t even discern, only getting to know his actual agenda when you hear his sneakers skidding against the floor as he runs towards the pushcarts.

Yoongi, without even knowing the full context, runs after him because he didn’t want to come in second place for whatever it is that Jungkook’s challenging him to.

“I’ll steer the cart,” Jungkook presents definitively, his hand raised mid-air as if he’s being graded for eagerness alone. He looks like he wants to prove himself even if it’s only you and your mom present; no director, no producer in sight who sizes him up.

“No. I’ll do it,” Yoongi argues out of nowhere, his bruised hands reclaiming the cart under Jungkook’s grasp. He’s not even looking at your mom because his gaze is only fixed on Jungkook who’s just two tugs away from actually spitting at him.

“I said it first,” your pretend-boyfriend forcefully pulls the hunk of metal away from Yoongi, the latter coming along with it for the briefest of seconds before he does the same, this time with Jungkook gasping.

“What, are you method-acting for your next role as a cart-steerer?”

Your mom’s a little perplexed at the scene before her, lips parting in both concern and amusement because for a pair of people who haven’t met each other before, Yoongi and Jungkook are oddly competitive. They want to provesomething, anything, and maybe everything so bad, they neglect the fact that they look ridiculous fighting over a pushcart.

“We actually need two,“ she says to no one in particular, thinking out loud as she goes through her grocery list. “I think maybe even three because-…”

“I’ll get it,” Jungkook rushes out in panic, almost bumping into you in the process. You were only gone for a minute to retrieve your phone from the car and yet he already looks breathless, the knot between his eyebrows untangling when he realizes that it’s you. “Oh. Sorry, babe.”

“I’ll get it, Koo,” you murmur, catching the tail end of what your mom said about the pushcarts. Jungkook’s cheeks are tainted pink in frustration and you can’t help but to be concerned, the back of your hand already flitting against his forehead before you know it. “Are you okay? Sorry, the AC in here is not like the AC in the city.”

“Huh, what? Oh no, it’s okay. I just got into this heated cart argument,” he waves you off, eyes rapidly moving between you, your mom, and Yoongi who’s mirroring his exact actions, except for the glaring hint of annoyance with the way he’s standing so close to you.

“Cart argument? What’s-…”

“We need meat.”

You barely even have a chance to digest what Jungkook’s saying to you before you see him glitch right in front of you in a hurry, the only words to register clearly in your mind being your mom’s. She’s absent-mindedly talking herself through her grocery list (as she always does) and yet the two men right next to her hang onto her every word, the speed they take off on giving you no clue to why they’re acting as such.

“I’ll get it, auntie!” Yoongi gets out even before the wheels of his cart could cooperate, momentarily tripping over himself. Jungkook sputters at that, the laughter that builds in his throat being interrupted because he realizes that the other guy is ahead of him and he simply cannot bear that.

“Beef. We need beef, right, mom? How many kilos. Like… ten? Okay. I’ll get it!” Jungkook dashes even if he’s never been in this grocery store before; even if your mom hasn’t said a single word to either of them.

You’re left dumbfounded in the middle of the store, your gaze unable to locate the distinct sounds of both of their sneakers skidding against the floor.

“I didn’t even say anything,” your mom mutters in confusion, eyes flitting to you with a wonder you can’t place because even if the both of you are lost, she seems to have a better idea than you do. “Are they… competing over you, sweetie?”

“Competing? Me? Why would you even say that, mom?” you huff, leaning against the cart as you snatch her list to get the things she’s actually looking for.

“I don’t know,” she lulls, shrugging carelessly before nudging you. “Jungkook’s your boyfriend and well, I assume Yoongi’s always wanted to be in his position.”

“How did you even come to that conclusion?”

“Small town. Few people. Cute girl, cute guy,” she places, the end of her hypothesis being accompanied by a chuckle. When she says it like that, it sounds far too easy — it sounds far too seamless, you almost wish it was exactly that. “I didn’t even take the news that Yoongi was going abroad seriously because I thought it was a joke. I thought he could never move on from here or Namjoon,” your mom pouts, tilting her head when you freeze. “Much more, he could never move on from you.”

“He did,” you answer through gritted teeth, the grip you have on her list making the paper crumple underneath your hold.

Your mom doesn’t know everything. In fact, you don’t even know if she knows anything at all. You don’t despise her for her lack of involvement because you want to keep her from the chaos of your burdens, and you’ve always wanted to keep it that way.

But the way she speaks now, so full of conviction and faith, you find yourself despising it. She speaks as surely as the way Yoongi speeds past the both of you, weaving through aisles to get items she didn’t ask for, competing for and against a higher power (read: you) that Jungkook himself seeks.

She says it so surely, it’s as if she knows about every waking thought that Yoongi’s ever had in your absence.

“It doesn’t look like he did.”

You ponder over your mom’s adoration for Yoongi, most of which you can’t decipher if it’s misplaced or not. You know he’ll always have a special place in her heart and in her home because she’s known him even before he was born because she’s best friends with Mrs. Min.

Yoongi has a place in your life, no matter if it’s in your own or in the lives of the people you love. He probably has a modern penthouse in Namjoon’s life, the decoration in it improving over time. On the other hand, Yoongi probably occupies an ancestral cabin in your mom’s life that’s been well-maintained for longer than he’s ever been alive, the decor in it being handmade and resilient through the years.

In your life, however, you can’t tell how and if Yoongi occupies it in the first place. For the longest time, his place in your life had come in the form of a mansion that not even a single architect nor engineer could ever think of. For a moment too, Yoongi’s place in your heart came in the form of a little house on a vast farm overlooking the mountains and the sea. Throughout all the houses that Yoongi’s shape-shifted to in your life, you doubt now if he could ever turn into them again.

When you think of Yoongi, all you see is your room.

When you see Yoongi, all you could remember is your childhood house and its shortcomings in your life, especially when you needed to come home to it— to him, the most.

“I’ll pay, mom,” Jungkook snaps you out of your reverie, his whine making your ears ring.

“What? No, Jungkook. This is all too much,” you refuse vehemently, trying to fight him from extending his black card any further.

“It’s not. This is for your family anyway. I, I might have even grabbed extra portions for myself because mom said she’ll repeat tomorrow what she did for lunch today,” he grins, momentarily losing himself to the sight of you that he doesn’t even notice he’s in the process of being one-upped by Yoongi.

“Jungkook, baby, I’ll feel-…”

“I paid for it, auntie,” Yoongi announces, making your lips part and Jungkook’s jaw drop.

“You shouldn’t have, Yoongi,” you scold him softly, a whine already building at the back of your throat but he waves you off easily. Your mom’s thanking him profusely in the background, and while Yoongi’s pleased with the attention, his gaze remains on you.

“But I wanted to,” he insists, pursing his lips. “I should.”

“You’re not family,” is what you want to say.

“But I want to be,” is what he wants to scream.

Wordlessly, Yoongi puts a plastic toy ring he bought from the register into your bag. It’s pink and it’s star-shaped, its mold still the same from all those years ago.

You barrel into your mom’s room just to see Namjoon.

You bit at the chance of giving him the stuff he’s asked for from the grocery as per your mom, taking advantage of her focus on organizing the groceries downstairs to have a one-on-one with your brother.

“You have to make Yoongi drive into the city tonight. Either that or he flies to the US. The reunion is already tomorrow,” you seethe, crossing your arms as he sighs in defeat.

“It’s already late. Yoongi’s driving with Haneul, a kid, alone,” he emphasizes, running a hand through his hair as he himself is troubled by you being in a bind over everything. “And he can’t book a flight back on such short notice.”

“Short notice? What, did he just happen to book a one-way flight and not a round trip one?” you snort in amusement, shaking your head in disbelief. The thought actually cracks you up because out of the three of you, Yoongi happened to be the one more adept to websites despite your limited materials back then. Namjoon remains silent, and with how serious he looks, your face falls.

You can’t believe Yoongi at all.

“He did? You’ve gotta be kidding me, Joon,” you groan, throwing your head back. “What, does that mean Yoongi gets to stay in our home while we’re in this godforsaken family reunion?”

Namjoon delivers yet another blow, his revelation making you more enraged than the last.

“Mom invited them.”

“What? Why?!” you exclaim, chest rising in frustration. “Yoongi’s not family, Namjoon. Atleast not for me.”

He doesn’t miss your added remark at the end of your sentence, the underhandedness of it making him look down on the floor.

Namjoon feels guilty, he really does, but he can’t seem to make it right. He couldn’t even fight you in insisting to apologize that night.

For each day that you try to delay the inevitable of confronting him and letting him taking the fall, of letting him apologize, Namjoon feels more like a big failure for an older brother than he already is.

“But he used to be,” he says under his breath, looking up at you with a stubbornness you can’t place. “Your lifetime versus those five years — which one amounts to more?”

( ♡ )

Everyone gushes over Jungkook.

In an altitude higher than the mountainside that you’re in now, the aunts, uncles, and cousins you didn’t even know you have squeal over your fake boyfriend. By the fifth relative, you’ve already got your routine down of letting them hug you and kiss your cheek before holding Jungkook’s bicep, acting as his bodyguard to make sure they don’t squeeze him too hard or not at all.

“Oh my god, Y/N. Jeon Jungkook is your boyfriend?!”

“I knew it, I knew you were gonna have a partner who’s famous! I dreamed about it when you were-…”

“If that’s your boyfriend, then who’s he?” your cousin (?) whispers to you, cutting himself off as he turns his gaze to Yoongi and Haneul. They’re most certainly not your family, meaning that they’re unrelated to everyone present, so what your relatives (some more nosy than others) can’t wrap their heads around is the fact that there are strangers in your family reunion.

It takes one, two times for your mom and Namjoon to explain who they are and what they’re doing here in the first place, the chorus of nods eventually signaling that they’ve moved on. Some of them could even recall Mr. and Mrs. Min from the neighborhood, and Yoongi could only nod.

It’s not that he doesn’t belong right now — he actually feels the opposite. Yoongi feels that he has a place amongst a barrage of relatives he’s not affiliated to by neither blood nor paper, and it pains him; not because he’s scared of belonging, but because you probably don’t think the same way.

Haneul runs to him underneath the umbrella he’s isolated himself at, his son grasping an assortment of cash, food, and juiceboxes Yoongi most certainly did not pack in Haneul’s backpack from the night before.

“Auntie’s family is really nice, appa. Look what they gave me,” he shows everything that his hands could carry, breathing heavily in excitement as he explains that your relatives told him to come back once his hands are empty.

“Oh dear. They really think you’re adorable,” he laughs, pocketing Haneul’s cash (he swears he’ll give it back) and hiding some of the snacks he’s been given so he wouldn’t give himself heartburn eating too many at once.

Yoongi’s smiling from ear to ear, sitting Haneul in his lap as he overlooks the view of your town from above. Everything looks so small and delicate, you’d almost think none of what laid downhill ever even mattered. He didn’t get views like these in New York.

Yoongi didn’t get people like you in New York.

“Mama’s family isn’t this nice,” Haneul speaks out of nowhere, his thoughts uttered out loud directed more-on to himself than it is for his dad. Yoongi stops in his tracks in trepidation, shoulders tensing over what his son just said. “They never play with me like this. Not like auntie.”

He knows Hyewon’s relatives, albeit not that well. Her family members in the US were not this kind, not this warm, even to a child who’s actually related to them.

Yoongi’s stuck in his thoughts the whole time Haneul sips on his juice, finally being snapped into his reality nowwhen you approach their direction. His son waves at you excitedly even if you’ve just crossed paths minutes ago.

“Here, Haneul,” you hold out a container to him, the gentle smile on your face limited to only him yet Yoongi, for a lack of grace, pretends it’s also for him. “I tried my best to make it look like Bluey,” you chuckle, pointing to the mini sculpture made out of the marshmallows and blueberries that your relatives set aside for him.

Haneul beams at you, thanking you profusely. If only he wasn’t sat on Yoongi’s lap and therefore grounded, he would’ve launched himself at you to hug your legs.

Yoongi takes the hat right off his head, putting it on you while you’re crouched next to his son.

“It’s hot,” he explains, his heart continuously speaking beats the longer that you linger beside Haneul and the longer that he giggles in excitement. “I know you get headaches easily.”

( ♡ )

Despite being reachable, Yoongi still yearns for you.

He yearns for you even if you’re only within arm’s reach, sitting near you but never close enough at the long table because with you, he feels safe. He laughs in the background like it’s a sitcom to every joke and every episode of banter thrown around him. He doesn’t feel out of place with your family — he feels out of place with you.

He’s never been a wickedly jealous type. Even when he and Hyewon were still together and she cheated on him, Yoongi felt more resentful than he was jealous. He didn’t feel this type of way; he didn’t feel inferior. He didn’t feel like he was nursing a loss in his life because he has no choice but to. Yoongi had managed to divorce Hyewon because it didn’t work out between them, and that was that.

Yoongi can neither divorce you nor pull away from you because you’ve never been with each other. He harbors no resentment for you and that scares him, not because he wants to hate you so badly, but because he feels as if everything you’ll do to him, he’ll take it.

Yoongi will take it even if you set a plate for Jungkook despite unconsciously forgetting what he’s always disliked eating when you were still kids. He’ll take the serving tray from your hands still, uncaring if eating the tiniest bite of the food you’ve passed gives him an allergic reaction because you were the one who offered.

He’ll take it even if you hold Jungkook’s bicep in a hurry when there’s a bug that’s getting awfully close to your drink. Yoongi would walk to where you sit and dispose of it wordlessly because even Jungkook himself is scared of bugs. He doesn’t mind if you don’t thank him, because atleast now when he looks at you from a distance, you’re sitting in relaxation and you no longer have to hold your boyfriend.

He’ll endure the jealousy that burns through his throat more than the poorly-made, highly-alcoholic vodka your uncle made himself. He’ll hold onto the poison that is yearning and how he’ll feel like his throat would close up because if you were still young, in this setting of free rein, except you were still in love him like you used to be and he’s in love with you like he is now, neither you and Yoongi would be hurting.

Yoongi will take it. He’ll take the nothing that you give him and give you the everything that you don’t ask for anymore.

Five years versus the rest of your lifetime that you spent being in love with him is only miniscule. The suffering that he’s going through now is only a speck of the years you’ve spent in an unrequited love.

Unlike you, Yoongi’s weak. If he were to say it outloud to you, you’ll never agree because you’ve never regarded yourself otherwise. You’ll go on this tangent that you’ve always been weak, influenced by the times that Yoongi had chastised you for your lack of a passion.

To you, Yoongi had been right in a way.

To Yoongi, he’s always been in the wrong.

He’s crying to you now that the both of you are alone, overlooking the small town he used to be keen on getting out of. Now, more than ever, Yoongi wants to stay in it. He wants to stay with you.

“Why is everything with you so hard?” Yoongi whispers, his tears stinging badly from the corner of his eyes to the point that he can only make out shapes. He’s unkempt and frantic as if his life flashed before his eyes and there’s nothing he could do about it, voice strained like much of the times he’s drank himself to sleep.

He resembles Haneul at the moment. He’s always had because there’s not one bit of Hyewon in his son’s features or personality, but he looks especially like him now that he’s crying. The back of his hands harshly dig into his face, sobs bursting right from his throat. “Why do I make everything so hard for us? Why can’t I— w-why can’t I make it right for once?”

There’s a tremble to your chest that you ignore earnestly, the presence of it enough to scare you because it’s familiar; too familiar. Seeing your past play out in front of you in the form of a seemingly content family sleeping on your bed is one thing, but it’s another to see its patriarch crumble in front of you. It’s different to see your past pleading in front of you for just the slightest bit of your attention.

As a matter of fact, it’s different now because you resemble Yoongi the most.

“You never tried,” you seethe, jumping the gun before you even try to decipher what’s in the barrel. It’s a bullet you fire haphazardly that comes from your pocket that you’ve always held onto. It’s a misplaced, misshapen, old bullet that you force into a gun that Yoongi passed onto you.

Right now, Yoongi doesn’t resemble Haneul, and neither does he resemble his ex-wife.

He resembles you with the way his eyes are clearly swimming in hurt while you avoid looking at his, just to relieve the painstaking feeling of guilt and longing compacted into a sob.

“I never tried?” Yoongi exhales shakily, his quivering hands running through his hair to tug on them.“I never tried?”

You hear yourself clearly even if it’s his voice. The tremble and the anger, even all the way to the blind hope.

“I kept trying to reach out to you every single time. Every single birthday, every single Christmas, every insignificant holiday I could search up!” Yoongi cries — he actually thrashes with the way he sobs, shoulders shaking violently. “I didn’t try? If I didn’t try, try looking at every page of my passport to see all the stamps there are whenever fucking Jungkook was reported to be in another country,” he spits his name like poison, the vitriol behind it, however, never catching up to what he feels about himself.

You resemble Yoongi the most because you stand untethered, eyes blurring and lips quivering, yet you only watch him lose himself before thinking of uttering a single word.

“I’m selfish, I’m an asshole, and I’m fucking insufferable. I can’t even apologize to you correctly,” Yoongi lists, chest rising up and down too heavily, he feels like it’ll give out. “But I love you, Y/N. I-I might be every bad thing in your life right now and I own up to that. I’m still trying to be the best for you.”

Not only does Yoongi resemble you — he’s actually become you.

“You can call me the vilest names ever but you can’t say that,” he grits, teeth chattering not from the cold he’s put himself in, but because he can’t stop mentioning your name in between. “You can’t say I never tried because I always have. I’ll never stop becausethat’s what it takes,” Yoongi mutters; because, he says, not if.

“I love you,” he says it far too clearly for someone who’s drunk; far too sincerely for someone who had spent the better part of his life putting it through your head that he can’t return your affection. “I’ve always loved you.”

( ♡ )

You don’t feel good.

There’s a fever that’s starting to bloom from the base of your skull all the way to your toes, the abnormal warmth you feel in your chest making you unable to interact with everyone else outside of your room. Jungkook had left with your uncles before dawn to go fishing in the nearby lake and never would you think to inconvenience him; to tend to someone like you for something as minor as a fever, or for anything at all.

You already have a system down for taking care of yourself when you’re ill. It started when neither your mom nor your brother were home with you, and it was finally perfected when you had to live completely alone in the big city. All you had to do was gather all the energy you have, spend it at the start to get everything you could possibly need and put them all at the side of your bed, and rest until everything no longer hurts.

The major flaw with your system now is that you don’t have the energy at all. You can’t build up the strength to get up, walk across the hall and interact with your relatives, and rummage through groceries to get what you need without being questioned; you can’t build up the sense of importance you have for yourself to ask for help.

Namjoon comes into your room before you could dance around the idea of asking him to get you water, all because he has this innate sense of guilt in him and you could utilize it to your advantage. Your brother gets ahead of you before you could even register that he’s here with you, his eyes sullen and pleading.

“Can we talk?”

“I can’t exactly storm off right now,” you rasp, your voice fading out into a low chuckle.

“Do you want to talk when you’re able to storm off?” he asks sincerely with a small smile, his hand fixing your hair as gently as he could without making your migraine ring further. “If you do though, then you probably might never hear me out again.”

You stay silent because he is right, but Namjoon feels otherwise. He feels as if he hasn’t been doing anything right at all and you existing separate from him is a constant reminder. His career is at its peak but he thinks he could go higher; his relationship with you is deteriorating and he doesn’t think it could possibly be worse.

“I’m sorry for being a shitty brother,” he apologizes, the first thing out of his mouth being the last thing that floods his mind before he goes to sleep at night. “I should’ve never defended Yoongi, even Hyewon by extension.”

The heat behind your eyes isn’t all from your fever. The tears that prick your eyes aren’t because of the pressure in your head, but because of the fact that you haven’t heard Namjoon apologize to you in a long time; you haven’t talked this sincerely for even longer

“I should’ve put you first,” he sniffles, muttering apologies in between his pauses for finding the right words that would make it okay; that would somehow undo all that he’s been an accomplice to. “I should’ve been this reliable, sturdy man of the house. I-I should’ve been more of a father figure to you-…”

“Don’t,” you interject sternly. “You never filled in his shoes and you should never will. You’re only mom’s son and my brother, Namjoon. It’s never been your job to raise me.”

Even after everything, there’s a gentleness to you that Namjoon’s always loved but hate the most now. He hates that even if he’s the one who’s apologizing, you’re the one who’s saying sorry for the things you didn’t even inflict on him. Neither of you wanted to be raised by only a single parent, yet you absolve him of the guilt he’s always felt.

“But I could’ve been better. I wish I was already better from the start.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think how hard life was for you growing up. I-I would’ve given up football if only-…” he trembles, unable to get the last of his sentence out because you shake your head in earnest.

“Stop.”

“But I mean it. If only I-I didn’t get into football, I could’ve been there for you and mom much often. I could’ve been better and-...”

“But I grew up to be okay, didn’t I? You’re the best at what you do. We’ve managed to retire mom early because we put in the work,” you whisper, the shrug of your shoulders feeling more heavy that it should feel because the words don’t come out easily from you.

“But okay shouldn’t have been enough for you,” Namjoon tears up, bottom lip trembling as you try to take in his words that you’ve always wanted to hear at the back of your mind; you hear them now when you’ve already grown up. You hear them now after you’ve already endured the grief. “I— we should’ve given you the fighting chance to grow up more than okay.”

It’s not Jungkook who comes to visit you while you’re nursing a fever, because you’ve temporarily banned him from the bedroom. He only pouted in complaint when you called him, but he didn’t fight you that much either because you’ve called him out for the excitement in his voice to go hiking for the first time.

It’s not Yoongi who comes to visit you while you’re nursing a fever, because Haneul asked him to teach him Go (he’s not even that good at it and being the ever unable to show incompetence and have pride especially when Jungkook’s watching father, he discreetly asked lessons from your mom) so he’ll be able to play with your cousins.

Instead, it’s your mom who visits you. Even if Namjoon hadn’t tipped her off that you were feeling under the weather, she’s already had a feeling this morning.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” she asks, her hands full of everything you could possibly need and more before plopping them at your side. She makes you sit up even before you could complain, handing you a drink with some medicine you didn’t even know she carried

“Just a little fever,” you answer, getting back into your cocoon.

You don’t even attempt to make conversation because you fear that you don’t have it in you to have a heart-to-heart talk with your mom just minutes after you’ve had one with Namjoon.

You don’t even say anything to her except your thanks. Namjoon didn’t even tell her about your conversation, even if he approached her with tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes while saying that it was just allergies.

Your mom feels the guilt spring to her chest even if you don’t utter a single word. She feels the remorse in her eyes when you don’t ask her for anything more. She feels the guilt the most in her hands when you don’t ask her to stay.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like there wasn’t enough space for your burdens growing up.”

“What?”you scramble to get up in a seated position, eyes hazy from how quick you do it. “Mom, you scared me. Where’s this coming from?”

She shakes her head at your cluelessness, eyes stinging when you genuinely look at her innocently. You don’t know what she’s talking about, even if the thought has plagued her for so long.

“You’re not really okay, are you?”

“It’s… just a fever,” you mumble, your breathing already trembling at the way she looks at you.

She’s looking at you like you’re still a kid; ever so fragile and innocent, it’s as if she wouldn’t let a single thing in this world harm you. She doesn’t know a single thing about your feud with Namjoon and your long drawn-out conflict with Yoongi. What your mom does know is that she doesn’t know a single thing about the heartbreak you suppress, and that thought alone makes her hiccup in tears.

“You’re right, you know? Our house is small,” she says, distinctly recalling the tensioned conversation you had with Namjoon back at home. “It’s tiny but it was far too big for you growing up alone,” she inhales sharply, trying not to sob in front of you. “He wasn’t in the picture. I was working a hundred jobs left and right. Namjoon was trying to make a name for himself,” she shakes her head, so much so that the necklace she’s had since you were children, the same one with yours and Namjoon’s birthstones on it, rattles. “I’m sorry for making you feel that you can’t come to me.”

In just a full day, you’ve heard everything that you’ve ever wanted. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted during the school plays where you had no one from your family, except Yoongi, to watch you become an extra up on stage. He’d always deny that he did show up for you and just say that it’s because he was genuinely interested in a play about a poet he didn’t care about in reality, but you take it nonetheless.

It’s everything you’ve ever prayed for watching Yoongi live a life far too advanced for you as he held Hyewon’s hand after school. It’s what you wanted to hear when you begged him not to leave you behind.

“I-I’m okay. I’m really-…” you stutter, looking away before your tears fall in the fear that they’ll never stop.

Your mom only hugs you tighter.

“I’m here if you want someone else to carry your burdens,” she whispers. “I’m here now.”

( ♡ )

It’s the last day of the reunion when you fully recover, and it’s hours ahead of everyone when Jungkook has to leave by himself.

Without even asking for it, Jungkook grants you another week’s worth of break. You didn’t even plan on asking, yet Jungkook’s willing to give you a month if only you do.

You’ve already arranged for his personal driver to pick him up and take him back to the city. You’ve already packed his bags, along with the multiple containers of food that your relatives (and especially your mom) insisted for him to take. You’ve arranged for your substitute to take care of him for his schedules throughout the week, along with the insistent reminder to call you whenever Jungkook needs you. (Read: he does, with or without a schedule.)

Everything is set for Jungkook to leave except for his driver who’d been roped by your mom to be filled with breakfast first, yet with the remaining minutes left, Jungkook’s still with you on your bed.

He lies on your lap even if there’s plenty of space for him to lie parallel to you on a pillow — and you let him.

“Have you ever thought about kissing me?” he asks in the middle of you texting your substitute, the randomness of his thought already being familiar to you. This time, unlike the few thousand times he’s ever asked you something straight off his mind without refining them, is different.

It’s different now because your pretend-boyfriend asks you if you’ve ever thought about kissing him, while looking like he really wants to kiss you.

“Where’d that come from?” you giggle, looking down on him on your lap.

Not once does Jungkook ever look away from you.

“Dunno,” he shrugs, pointing up at you. “Your lips are close to bleeding and it’s bothering me.”

“Sorry for turning you off,” you snort in laughter, wiping at the tiny specks of blood. Jungkook tuts when you rub at them, feeling for his lip balm out of his pocket.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he stresses, going a little cross-eyes when he applies them for you. His eyes keep goading you, the smile he has on his face widening the more that you look at him incredulously. “Sooo… have you?”

You don’t want to lie to him at all.

“If I answer yes, Jungkook,” you toy around with his hair, setting your phone face-down because you can’t focus on anything else now. “We can never come back from that.”

Jungkook laughs in glee so loudly, Yoongi (who was only passing by; he really, really swears he didn’t just happen to eavesdrop in your room because Jungkook’s driver is all done eating and wants to beat traffic) actually flinches.

Jungkook strains to be closer to you, unconsciously training you to lean down. His lips are far too soft — far too close to you, you could see every line and every nuance in them. He whispers, eyes practically crossing at your proximity.

“And is that such a bad thing?”

( ♡ )

You’re back at home when Jungkook texts you that he’s made it back safe, and that he wants to kiss you again.

You’re back at home when Yoongi asks you if he could use the bathroom first because Haneul spilled milk on him during the drive. You’re in your childhood bedroom when you let him clean up first, and you’re sitting on your childhood bed when you volunteer to put Haneul down because he’s cranky and for some reason, wants to be held by you.

You’re back at home too when Yoongi and Haneul are knocked out for the night, and your mom calls you and Namjoon down for all three of you to talk at the dining table.

You’re back at the home you were raised in, sitting on the dining table that’s creaky when more than two people lean their weight into it, in the space you’ve roamed around alone waiting for them to come home, when your mom talks about wanting to sell it.

“You want to sell?” Namjoon’s eyes widen, exchanging a glance with you who’s as equally surprised as he is.

“Yes. It’s under my name, y’know? Not that… man’s,” she snorts, the off-hand mention of your father making you and Namjoon laugh unexpectedly. Your mom looks at ease as she talks about selling your house, the smile she has one her face being shaped with experience and grace. “I doubt the both of you would want to keep this, and besides, the offers I’ve kept for years now are high. You already know that big-shot companies have been buying out houses here for years now because of the growth potential and whatnot. Who knows, maybe our block will be turned into a mall!” she shrugs, the happiness in her tone infectious.

For someone who’s decided on letting go the house she’s both struggled and strived in, your mom’s beyond excited.

For two adults, who were once kids, who’ve seen the amount of sacrifices your mother’s put into the place by herself, you and Namjoon don’t have any objections.

“Also, consider this as me asking for permission to go on a vacation, even if I’m grown, because some people get so paranoid when I don’t answer calls,” she digs at you and your brother, immediately inciting coughs because you two, in fact, are guilty of worrying over your mom too much. “I’m going on this worldwide trip with Yoongi’s mom,” she grins, pulling out one last surprise. “We’ve talked about it since we were young. She’s earned her stripes working abroad, I managed to raise two amazing children as a single mom. We’ve earned it, I think.”

You and Namjoon share a glance once again, this time more definite than the last. You’ve made up already as far as your mom could tell, and that confirmation is what she needs before finally selling the house you all grew up in.

“You’ve earned it more than anyone.”

( ♡ )

Yoongi’s packing up for their flight tonight when you go into your room to pack up the life you’ve lived there.

“You’re coming with me and Haneul?” Yoongi jokes when he sees you pulling out your own luggage, the tone of his voice highly suggesting for you to become serious. He gets you to smile and that’s big enough of a win as is, the remainder of it more than substantial to hold onto when he’s away from you. Again.

“No, unfortunately. I’m packing up the room and eventually… the whole house,” you answer with a chuckle, voice trailing off when you see the crestfallen look on Yoongi’s face. He looks like someone who’s just absorbed the largest pain to man as he’s trying not to make it obvious. “We’re posting it for sale two weeks from now.”

Yoongi nods tightly, inhaling sharply as he tries to maintain his steady tone. “Then why are you packing up already?”

You could do this tomorrow. As a matter of fact, you could do it tonight because you don’t have to drive them to the airport. You have all the time in the world within two weeks to do this, yet you go into your room now when Yoongi’s still in it.

When Yoongi still hasn’t left, and neither of you know when you’re gonna see each other next.

“I have to get a move on. If I don’t move now,” you trail, voice close to trembling as you open cabinets you’ve never even given the time of day before. “I’m scared that I’ll keep holding onto this house.

Yoongi nods, even if he fully understands — even if he doesn’t want to swallow what you’re saying.

“You want out?”

“We want out — me, mom, Namjoon,” you explain, looking at him properly for the first time since he told you that he loved you. “For the longest time, we’ve held onto this place because we became this house at one point. Namjoon’s this world star, my mom’s traveling the world with your mom-…”

“Oh, they’re finally doing it?” Yoongi interrupts, a smile finally coming to his face at the news. He hasn’t talked to his mom in a month from how busy he’s been, and although he’s always missed her (even if they’re on much better terms than he and his dad could be), he’s happy knowing that your moms have each other atleast. “How about you? What will you be doing?”

“I’ll just be… living day-to-day. I’m not doing anything extremely special, but I’m happy and busy doing it,” you laugh, looking around your room that hasn’t appeared this clean, this warm, since you last stayed in it. “No one’s going to be around here anymore.”

As if on cue, Haneul runs to Yoongi’s arms to be picked up. He knows what the luggages mean and because he’s largely in denial that they have to leave later (as referenced by him crying to your mom and Namjoon), Haneul keeps pretending to sleep so that their trip gets delayed.

Yoongi’s about to put him on your bed even if he knows his son’s antics already, but in the fear that he’ll actually get to sleep and they don’t get to leave (which he isn’t opposed to at all), he keeps him in his arms.

You, on the other hand, take Haneul from him when his arms outstretch for you.

There’s the sentiment of you not having to do it that’s resting at the tip of Yoongi’s tongue but he holds himself back, the image of you and Haneul completely fitting one another, he wants to burn a copy of it to his retinas and designate it to be the last thing he’ll see if he ever goes blind.

Without putting Haneul to sleep on your bed, he goes to sleep in peace in your arms.

“Do you regret it?” Yoongi asks throughout the silence between you, sitting next to you at the edge of your bed. “Do you regret ever liking me?”

“I do,” you answer truthfully, rubbing circles at the Haneul’s back. “I regret knowing you.”

Yoongi takes the responsibility fully, even fuller than the way both your hurt and happiness could make or break him.

“I can’t take back all the hurt I’ve caused you,” he admits just as honestly, turning to look at you. He becomes surprised to learn that you’ve been looking at him the whole time. “But what I can promise you is that I’ll never do anything to hurt you again.”

“I have my share of faults too.”

“Eh. Mostly mine.”

“Mostly yours, yeah,” you laugh easily, nodding to yourself as you continue. “But I held onto you as much as you didn’t hold onto me. That’s my mistake.”

Yoongi stays silent at that, not because he agrees, but because the bias that you’ll never be wrong in his eyes overtakes your humbleness.

“Do you think he’ll remember the entirety of the trip?” you ask, gesturing to Haneul who’s already sleeping like a hibernating bear in your hold. “Or will Haneul just remember that time the power went out because he cried a lot?”

“Oh, he’ll remember everything alright. He’s good with retention and people in general,” Yoongi waves you off. “Even if he didn’t come along the trip— even if we didn’t crash the whole thing, Haneul would remember you.”

“Who am I to him?” you ask in curiosity, lips turning into a straight line before they curve in the slightest. “Appa’s friend, I bet.”

“Not really. You’re a lot of things to me,” Yoongi chuckles, looking at the way Haneul grips you as if you’ll float away if he lets go; he’d do the same too. “More like my first love.”

Yoongi loves you quietly.

He loves you quietly with the way he draws the curtains downstairs when you sleep on the couch, tired and stressed over a solution you couldn’t understand. He loves you with the way he’ll scoop the warmest, freshest, least-burnt portion of rice to your bowl without you even asking for it. He loves you with the way he’s willing to let you walk all over him.

He loves you quietly in the way that not even distance nor time could disrupt him.

Yoongi loves you quietly, it might have been too much.

“Is that a lottery ticket?” he asks suddenly as he spots the familiar face of it inside your luggage, tucked into the discreet pocket where your mother’s letters of encouragement when you went to the big city were also kept

“Oh, it’s still there,” you answer, in surprise yourself because even if this is the same luggage you use whenever you go out of the country with Jungkook, you’ve never noticed that it was still there. “I bought it when you left for the US.”

Yoongi stops in his tracks in retrieving the scratch ticket from the pocket, looking up at you in curiosity. “Why did you buy one that day?”

Haneul stirs in his sleep in your arms, waking up right at the middle of you and Yoongi being lost in each other. He mistakes the silence as a signal that they’ll be leaving already, making a mess of himself as he quickly goes down the stairs to look for your family there and cling to them instead.

You and Yoongi are alone again.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, grasping the scratch ticket you used to spend hours looking. “I guess I just needed some proof that fate was against me that day.”

“But how would you even know that?” Yoongi asks, pointing to the card that’s still covered. “You didn’t even scratch it.”

You answer honestly, the reason burnt to the back of his mind.

“Because I knew I would lose my mind if I actually lost.”

“Try,” Yoongi swallows, nudging the ticket closer to you with a gaze that mirrored yours when he left. “Try again. Please.”

You have nothing else to lose.

Yoongi isn’t yours to lose.

You retrieve the same old coin Yoongi gave to you on the same day that he bought you your first scratch ticket, the appearance of it from your luggage making his heart skip a beat.

He doesn’t speak and neither do you, gaze only fixed on the way you scratch the card almost hesitantly, as if you’re still scared of the results of something that you should’ve known five years ago. (Read: you still are.)

When you get to the last digit, you freeze. You comb through the pattern over and over again, yet you still can’t believe it.

You’ve won the highest possible prize.

“Oh.”

“Oh,” you parrot Yoongi, looking up at him as he can’t believe it either.

“You won.”

“I won,” you repeat, running a hand through your hair. You actually laugh, the lump in your throat subsiding. It’s a welcome, albeit loaded, feeling of happiness that comes in between the two of you. “I thought I would lose,” you mutter bitterly, shaking your head.

You didn’t lose. Fate wasn’t against you that day, and yet you still lost yourself thinking subconsciously what the proof of it would’ve been.

“Who would’ve thought, right?” you sigh, eyes drifting to Yoongi. “If only I took that chance years ago, I would’ve won.”

Yoongi smiles tightly, breath faltering in recollection.

“I’m familiar with the feeling,”

Yoongi doesn’t get to finish packing for him and Haneul and neither do you with your whole room, the shift in the atmosphere suddenly making him stand.

He’s breathless and he doesn’t know what for, the rapid beating of his chest making his voice louder than necessary. “Hey, what do you say you take a break? I’ll pack up your room. I have to stay alert anyway for Haneul."

You thank him before leaving him alone in your room.

Yoongi can’t find the strength in him to pack. The only power he has left in him is for him to think of taking everything out from his luggages, the thought of leaving again, this time worlds different than the last when you were begging him not to — he feels like throwing up.

Yoongi’s merely an amalgamation of you. He’s only a compilation of your every word, every feeling you’ve implanted in his heart. He’s filled with nothing but your every triumph and shortcoming; every late night hanging out with you as you attempt to study while he keeps you company, every minute he spent going out of his mind trying to look for you when you ran away from home.

Yoongi loves you silently to the point that he gets out of your room without accomplishing a single thing he said he’ll do just awhile ago.

In the grand scheme of things, Yoongi realizes that he was wrong. He was as wrong as you were right that the moment he leaves home, he’ll spend the rest of his life looking for it.

Even if you left your home like he did, even if neither of you could come home anymore the moment your childhood house gets sold, Yoongi would still search for it. He’ll still search for you. You’re no longer where you were, but you are everywhere that Yoongi is.

He looks for you in Namjoon’s room, to the dining table, and all the way outside, just to ask if he and Haneul could stay for dinner.

Yoongi finds you and Haneul eating sundaes on the pavement outside, with you on the ground and a scrap cardboard underneath Haneul so it wouldn’t be hot for him.

Fate hadn’t been against you five years ago. And even if he’s much too late, Yoongi could only pray that fate isn’t against him now.

He walks over to where you and Haneul are, grabbing another scrap of cardboard to put underneath you.

Yoongi is consumingly yours all the time.

#WHEWWWWWW HOW R WE FEELING!!!!#yoongi imagine #yoongi oneshot #yoongi series #yoongi angst #yoongi angst imagine #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi au #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi scenario #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #bts yoongi imagine #bts yoongi x reader

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rubyuji · 2 months

Text

The Reason for My Smile (Kim Mingyu) 🪡

“Guys come on, Mingyu is approved by my brother! How can I not care? I know I’m still scared because of the whole Chan fiasco but can you blame me?” ✮⋆˙

Genre: Angst, Fluff

AU: University!au, Nonidol!au

Pairing: Ex!Chan x Fem!Reader, Brother’s Best Friend!Mingyu x Fem!Reader (Literally Seungcheol’s younger sister)

Warnings: A bit of cursing, a break up over text but that’s about it.

Synopsis: Diving into a long-term relationship is scary for anyone for that matter, except the breakup from yours had left you traumatized because it happened over text. From then on you vowed to never wear your heart on your sleeve ever again, but your brother’s own best friend promised to change your perspective.

Note: My first ever Seventeen fic on this account, so it’s still a work in progress, but it’s definitely something! (Esp since I haven’t written in awhile). It used to be an Enhypen fic originally, but it took a lot of editing and proofreading, along with a lot of changes. Happy reading! Don’t forget to like + reblog! It would mean the world.

Word Count: 7.7k words (I’ve never written so much)

Your relationship with Chan wasn’t precisely the dreamy or ideal relationship you had hoped for but as someone who had almost no experience, put that and being a people pleaser together, and you have whatever is left of your so-called relationship.

It’s not like Chan was a bad person or anything, the boy was quite the softie, so he’s probably just as overwhelmed as you were when it came to dating.

The latter part of the relationship consisted of you trying to understand him as best as you could, that was until inconsistencies started popping up a lot more.

Chan felt distant, he was more busy, despite the two of you being in the same major. That was the whole basis of your relationship after all. At the beginning of your relationship, it was sweet and full of the first times. Chan used to hold your hand, his other one holding your bag, as you would walk to the diner across campus and stay there for hours just talking about your day.

The soft gazes he’d give you whenever your eyes met, the flowers he’d give you on a random day, and the late-night calls wherein one of you ended up asleep. It was like a broken record that rewind itself during the late hours when you would start to question his love for you.

Those moments seem like old memories to you now as you see another apologetic text from your boyfriend. Another text where he promised to make it up to you and that he’d do better next time, it was starting to become a routine where you got stood up by him.

You wondered what on earth would keep your boyfriend so busy, especially when you both had ended up together because you took the same classes. You weren’t a slacker and always got your work done on time, so things weren’t adding up, especially when you both always tried to help one another.

The week after your midterms, you decided to visit your family and stay at home for a little bit.

Your family lived thirty minutes away from campus and you honestly couldn’t bother to make a drive that long every day, so you opted to stay in the dorms to save time, but on occasion, you would suck it up for a few days whenever your living space felt too tight.

Today was one of those days, but it felt a lot worse than you’d like to admit.

“Hey, I’m gonna go stay at my family’s for the weekend, and on Monday, just try not to make a mess here or anything.” You say to your roommate, Bora, who nods without looking at you.

Your roommate had an annoying habit of not looking at people whenever she was focused on her work, but you grew quite used to it and just shrugged it off after a few months.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I only ever have Chaeyoung or Hyewon over so no mess and no broken belongings. Have fun and say hi to Seungcheol for me if you see him, will you? Drive safe Y/n,” Bora finally turns to you from her bed and you laugh.

Seungcheol was a good brother and had a heart of gold, but you couldn’t handle your friends gushing over him in front of your face, it just felt weird when you grew up right beside him, the image of a younger Cheol picking his nose suddenly registering itself into your brain as you cringed.

You couldn’t care less about who he’d date though, it was none of your business, even as his little sister. As long as he didn’t end up hurt or hurting anyone, your brother was free to be with who he liked.

“Sure, I’ll leave a word when I see him. Tell me if anything comes up, and now I’ll get going! Bye, Bora!” You picked up your backpack and made the short walk to your car, ready to go home and lay on your childhood bed, which was admittedly more comfortable than the one you had in the dorm.

You text Chan about going to your family’s place, and the boy follows up with a thumbs-up emoji and an ‘I love you, stay safe’ text.

Your boyfriend didn’t have much to say anyway, and you were starting to grow bored with the way things were going. He probably felt the same way and you couldn’t blame him when you couldn’t keep your mouth shut either, since you seemed to be the only one exerting effort at this point.

He might even find you annoying now but didn’t have the heart to tell you because he was just that nice.

“Breaking up is honestly super tempting right now and I honestly can’t stand it anymore! It’s driving me mad, Cheol!” You whine as you stop at the intersection that leads into your neighborhood.

You didn’t mean to rub it in or anything, but you did live in a wealthier part of town, which explained the long drive home, and you were so glad to see the familiar area after a stressful trip.

It just so happened that halfway through the drive, your poor brother had to endure fifteen minutes of your rambling like some counselor even though he simply just wanted to check up on you.

“Y/n, just break up with him then, simple. It’s been months since you started telling me about how bad it’s getting, and honestly, I’m horrified to hear about what else is to come once you get here. I love you so much, really I do, but this boy is full of empty promises and lies,” Seungcheol sighs deeply.

The light turns green and you finally drive into your street, completely forgetting you were on the phone.

“Fuck don’t ignore me like that, I know how much you both liked your sweet puppy love phase, but get a grip Y/n. Chan is draining you, and he’s probably just as tired as you are. It’s time to stop hanging onto that year you both had,” You pull into your driveway and click your tongue.

Your brother was right, but it also killed you knowing you’d hate the thought of not having Chan around anymore. It was all easier said than done, especially when you felt incomplete without him.

“I see your ass in the driveway, Mom and Dad went out to get food so you have a fuck ton of explaining to do.” You see Seungcheol in the window and laugh before honking at him, scaring the living daylights out of him in the process.

“I’ll be in, like five. Let me get my bag ok? And tell Kkuma I’m here, I missed her.” You turn the engine off and grab your bag from the back, a wave of comfort and warmth washing over your form as you look at the house.

“Anyways, I’ve been contemplating on wanting to break up with him because I think he’s tired of me and maybe I did become quite annoying. Unless I’m invalidating my feelings and gaslighting myself into thinking I’m the problem,” You go on.

At this point, it was past dinner time and you and Seungcheol were in your room, dressed for bed and still talking about your problems. Poor Kkuma looked ready to curl up beside you and sleep but was forced to stay awake because of how miserable you were over some boy.

Seungcheol grimaced and set down a makeshift bed for the poor dog to lie on before turning to look at you with a concerned expression. “I think the latter, but you can be the judge of that. Now-” Cheol was cut off by your phone chiming and you turned to look at who on earth was texting you at one in the morning.

Your face turns pale as you look at the screen, and this automatically worries your brother, but his expression immediately hardens as he knows who it could be from.

“It’s from him isn’t it?” You nod slowly, the tears starting to fall from your eyes, dripping down your cheeks and onto the comforter you were on. Every word hit you like a ton of bricks, you felt helpless.

From: Chanie ^^

I think we need to break up. This relationship is holding me back and it’s starting to feel like a chore, I’m sorry I couldn’t do enough for you Y/n. I started to grow bored and you irritated me to no end, I don’t even think we would work even if we tried. This is my last goodbye to you, I’m sorry again that it had to end this way but I’m still young and feel like I’m not ready for something as serious as this.

You showed Seungcheol the message, only then realizing that your number was also blocked, preventing you from saying anything more. You were appalled, to say the least, your mouth hanging wide open as choked sobs started to come out slowly.

A year, a year went to waste with the person you thought would understand you best, the person you thought would hold your heart close to his, only for him to break it. The person who did the most and still managed to disappoint you.

Seungcheol held you close and you cried into his chest, Kkuma was suddenly on the bed licking your face and the world fell still at that exact moment. The moment you vowed to never trust anyone with your heart ever again.

You were a mess the rest of the semester following the text, crying on the couch the entire weekend as Seungcheol tried to console you, along with your oldest brother, but nothing worked.

You did go to class as normal, but you completely shut everyone out and limited socializing to only your family and friends until after finals.

Your break was coming up, and you were honestly relieved, to say the least. Bora was on the other side of the room getting ready to go home to see her family as well, packing up everything on her side in the process, but then you heard her huff as a pillow hit your head, interrupting the silence that was shared.

“What the fuck Kim?” You whined, taking the pillow and hugging it. Bora plants herself on the spot next to you, you look at her with a frown as she laughs.

“I’m gonna miss you roomie, but I’ll visit you often either way since you’re technically my best friend now. Now stop frowning, Chan was an idiot for breaking up with you. How you managed to get through the rest of the semester, I will never know, but you should go put yourself out there again! There’s bound to be another guy ready to treat you better, so stop moping ok? I know it’ll be hard, but I promise it’s not that bad. Have a bit of fun with it,” You pout at Bora’s words.

She was right, but the breakup over a text fiasco left you traumatized. Chan wasn’t the best boyfriend, and you both had your moments, but you weren’t ready to trust someone again just yet.

What if it ends the same way, or even worse? What if you were too boring? Questions swirl through your mind but Bora snaps you out of it.

“Hey, take it easy. Let’s hang out over break, just us girls showing Chan what he’s missing out on! Can you believe he left you? You’re a gem Y/n, a lot more people want you than you think. Now hurry up and pack the rest of your things!” You take in Bora’s words and nod.

It would be hard, but taking baby steps and meeting new people wouldn’t hurt. No rushing into serious connections just yet.

When you got home that day, you were happy enough to lay on your bed once again, all worries and concerns gone for the next few months. Suddenly, you hear a knock at the door and see Seungcheol walking in. You raise your eyebrow at him and your brother chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I was wondering if maybe we can hang out? Like all of your friends and mine,” Seungcheol looks down and plays with his fingers nervously. You were confused by his proposal but urged him to continue.

“Look, I like Bora and Minghao has this huge crush on Hyewon. Can you at least help us? Please? Look, I’ll take you shopping and even buy you food if I have to,” Your brother sounded like he was pleading almost so you really couldn’t help but feel bad.

“Cheol it’s ok, I’ll take you up on the shopping, now give me a date so I can tell the girls.” You smiled softly. Seungcheol punches the air and you laugh at his antics, you knew Bora also had the biggest crush on him so setting them up would be a breeze. Hyewon was a mystery you had yet to uncover though.

“I barely know your friends though, like I’ve met Jeonghan but who the hell is Minghao and how does he know about Hyewon?” Seungcheol lies down beside you on the bed and opens his phone, showing you a picture of him and three other guys.

Seungcheol then starts pointing out the two new faces to you. The lean and prince-looking one was Minghao and the tall, puppy-looking guy was named Mingyu. You couldn’t help but pay more attention to Mingyu, he was really attractive and you wanted to get to know him.

“Anyways, they’re the two new people in my frat. They’re super cool and like-” “Are you gonna bring Mingyu?” You cut him off mid-sentence, still in awe at Mingyu. Seungcheol’s brows knit and he rolls his eyes at you whilst you stick your tongue out at him.

“What happened to not dating? Come on Y/n, be serious,” You slap your brother’s face jokingly, the male screaming dramatically from beside you.

You didn’t want to get your heart broken again, but putting yourself out there wouldn’t hurt, as long as it didn’t get too serious, you were going to be ok.

“Shut up, it’s not like it’s gonna be a super serious thing just yet. Mingyu looks like a total hottie, I just wanna get to know him, have a little fun and get a bit of attention again,” You were ass at lying, so Seungcheol could only laugh at you.

“I trust you with him, Mingyu’s a very easygoing guy if that’s important to you. He’s also super single because he’s waiting for the right person,” he smirks at you.

Easygoing? And he’s waiting for the right person? On top of all that he’s cute and your brother trusts him with you? It sounded too good to be true.

You were happy for a moment, but doubts started to cloud your judgment once again. He sounded like a good guy, but how long until he turns into Chan and gets bored of you? It was starting to scare you again.

“Cheol, I don’t know-” Your brother gives you a serious look and sits up.

“I hope you understand that he’s not Chan, Y/n. Not all relationships are going to be like your last unless you try to take that leap. I promise you, he’s not a bad guy. Like, if he hurts you, I’ll hurt him because you mean a lot to me” You nod at Seungcheol, finally thinking positively and securely.

Not everyone is going to be like Chan, you knew that, but your memories and feelings for the boy held you back.

“Now, how does nineteenth sound?” Your brother asks you. You text your friends, immediately getting the green light from the three of them, Bora sounding the most excited.

“Perfect, and your girlfriend is just as excited as you are,” Cheol’s face turns a deep red before he runs out of your room in embarrassment, yelling about something along the lines of planning the perfect outfit. You guessed it was probably to impress Bora anyway, so you didn’t question him.

The silence of your room welcomes you once again and you are back into your thoughts. Mingyu sounded like a guy who would take someone seriously, maybe it’s just what you needed because guys your age didn’t have that much to go off of.

He was Seungcheol approved, and you told yourself that a million times, only because he hadn’t approved of anyone else but Mingyu. Chan could get past your parents and oldest brother, but not Cheol, so it was an odd situation to be in.

“I’ll figure it out later, right now, I need to sleep.” You put your phone off to the side and close your eyes.

Hopefully, you’ll be able to figure everything out once the nineteenth rolls around, both Seungcheol and Bora did say similar things, so maybe those two had a point. ‘No wonder they like each other, they’re the same person,’ you thought as the sleep took over.

Two days had passed and the dreaded day had rolled around much quicker than you had anticipated. As you put on light makeup, your friends are in the background screaming at each other throughout the entirety of your Facetime call because you all decided that it was a good idea to get ready together.

“Bora, it’s Seungcheol! He’s like Y/n’s male version so you don’t need to freak out that much! Now Y/n, show us the fit. You’re the only one who didn’t show us yet!” Hyewon whined over the phone.

“I’m wearing a gray long-sleeved, asymmetrical knit top, black skirt, and combat boots. For hair, I’m leaving it down and wavy, I don’t care much,” You say softly.

The girls suddenly burst out laughing as you put on your outfit, they didn’t seem to believe you one bit when you said you didn’t care because they knew you genuinely did care and tried not to.

“Guys come on, Mingyu is approved by my brother! How can I not care? I know I’m still scared because of the whole Chan fiasco but can you blame me?” Your friends hum in agreement until you hear the door behind you open.

“Y/n— Are you calling your friends right now? We’re leaving in a minute because Mingyu’s driving so hurry your ass up will you. Also hi Bora! Hi Hyewon and Chaeyoung,” Seungcheol grins stupidly.

You roll your eyes at your brother for obviously singling Bora out and tell your friends that you are going to see them in a bit.

“Bye, Y/n! Have fun looking at your new boy toy driving, already a huge upgrade from Chan!” Wonyoung laughs.

You end the Facetime call with a roll of your eyes before turning to look at Seungcheol with an eyebrow raised. Seungcheol puts his hands up defensively before you both hear a car honking outside.

“Mingyu’s here, grab your bag, and let’s go!” You huff as your brother rushes you, he was practically itching to see his crush, and embarrassingly enough, you too were excited to meet Mingyu and Minghao.

With your bag in hand, along with your phone, you finally follow Cheol outside and see a Range Rover of the latest model in black. Damn, Mingyu was in a different league that was for sure.

Seungcheol opens the door for you as you head in. You see Jeonghan riding shotgun and Wonwoo in the back smiling at you. “Y/n! So happy to see you again, I think this is your first time meeting Mingyu and Minghao,” Jeonghan says from the front.

You squeeze in the center comfortably and nod. Wonwoo was cute, he greeted you politely and was very friendly, but when your eyes met Mingyu’s, you suddenly became quite flustered. He held a sharp gaze, the watch on his wrist not helping you in the slightest.

“The shopping center downtown right?” Seungcheol nods at Mingyu’s words, his deep voice causing you to flush. You prayed to whoever was up there that you would at least survive the day because the tension in the car with him was enough to drive you nuts.

“So Y/n, how’s that thing with Chan?” You freeze up when Jeonghan suddenly brings up your ex, but you forget not everyone knew about the devastating breakup over text.

“We broke up over text...” You reply awkwardly. Jeonghan gasps as your brother runs his palm down his face, he knew better than anyone not to bring up Chan during the time you were still trying to move on.

“Hyung, give her a break. Sounds like it must’ve been rough, I’m sorry about that. He seems like a shitty guy, breaking up with you over text? Are you sure this isn’t a sitcom Y/n?” Mingyu speaks up as he looks at you from the rearview mirror. You feel your cheeks heat up slightly, nodding in embarrassment, but for some reason, you were shocked upon hearing Mingyu’s words.

Wow, he really picked Chan apart in a way you wouldn’t ever dare to. His bluntness snapped you right back to reality and you could hear Minghao chuckle from beside you. “What’s so funny?” You raise a brow at the boy.

“Mingyu hasn’t been this disheartened over anything in a while, it’s crazy that he’s already scrutinizing your ex based on how you broke up,” Minghao explains. Mingyu glares at him and huffs, looking so done and just ready to explain himself.

“Listen, in my personal opinion, I think breaking up with a long-term partner over text is stupid and a cowardly move. There were so many other ways he could have gone about it but over text? At least call or something instead, it’s super disrespectful towards your partner to leave them hanging without proper closure.” Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets upon hearing the reason behind his agitation.

So far, Mingyu was seriously proving you wrong the more he opened his mouth to say something, but you still weren’t ready because what if he’s even worse? The feeling still lingers and it’s almost like the ghost of your ex is not letting you go just yet.

“Mingyu’s right, I thought you both had something to be fair. Seeing how puppy love was just a phase makes me think I was quite wrong, you deserve better. Like Mingyu here for example! He’s very single and is looking for the right person, which could be you.” Jeonghan jokingly says.

You notice Mingyu’s ears turn red as he pulls into the shopping center. The car was suddenly filled with an awkward silence, everyone stunned at the oldest’s proposition. You and Mingyu had just met, what was he on about with you being his possible partner? It was crazy.

After Mingyu had parked his car, you all made your way toward your designated meeting spot. You could see Cheol and Minghao freeze up upon seeing Bora and Hyewon, causing a laugh to make its way out of your throat.

“Y/n! Over here!” The girls beckoned you over as you purposely ran in their direction to tease the guys.

It was a day to bring them together was it not? Yet you still took the opportunity to tease the boys as you wished. It was pretty funny to look at their reactions knowing they liked your friends.

“Hi guys, I brought Cheol and Jeonghan. The newbies are Minghao and, Mingyu” You say with a pause. Your friends squeal wildly at the mention of Mingyu’s name, shoving you with their elbows as you all laugh.

“Minghao is so cute actually, is he single by any chance?” Hyewon smirks, eyeing the male up and down.

You giggle and nod, your friend had no idea that the said boy was here for her, which made your job of setting them up much easier. Your work was basically cut out for you the moment they laid their eyes on each other.

“Oh don’t worry, you’ll know in a bit. For now, let’s all focus on having fun today shall we?” You sling your hand over Bora’s shoulder, not noticing Mingyu’s intense stare at your form. Seungcheol and Jeonghan notice the action, causing the two of them to nudge the boy playfully.

“Bro, go shoot your shot. There’s so much tension between the two of you, I hope you know that” Cheol laughs.

Mingyu shakes his head at his words profusely, there was no way he was going to overstep a boundary, even if it was Seungcheol himself encouraging it.

You notice the boys talking amongst themselves but decide to shrug it off, they were probably planning their moves on your friends, but how do you tell them that they didn’t even need to try that much? They all seemed to like each other after all.

Between Jeonghan and Seungcheol’s continuous pestering, Mingyu had felt your gaze on them, causing his cheeks to grow hot. You were really pretty, and that goes without saying, but you had just gotten out of something long-term.

The time needed to heal you first, or at least that’s what he thought, since his mom had always taught him to be patient with the ones he loved or cared about.

“Give her time guys, I don’t think I can just rush in like that. Y/n came out of a slightly traumatizing event, so if you jump right in, it will only push the person away further. I should be friends with her at most while we’re still getting to know each other,” Mingyu makes eye contact with you and notices how you quickly avoid his eyes.

The day had gone by quite smoothly since then, each of you dispersing into little pairs after a while because your friends couldn’t seem to help themselves, which is what led you to where you were now. In a store, with Mingyu, picking out clothes for him to try on.

You had nothing better to do anyway, so why not style your brother’s hot friend, even though Mingyu himself already had impeccable fashion taste?

You bite your lip as you focus on the outfit, visualizing what it would look like on Mingyu, and how you could coordinate everything.

Mingyu thought it was adorable with how much thought and focus you had decided to put in when you were only doing this for fun, he ultimately decided to buy the outfit once he was done trying it on.

“Here, sorry I took so long. I haven’t styled anyone since my ex and my older brother, so this is the best you’re gonna get for now,” You handed him the items in your arms and pushed him toward the fitting rooms, eager to see how well you did.

“It’s no problem because you did put the time and effort into styling me, I might go ahead and buy it if it does end up being my style,” Mingyu smiles at you softly.

He was sweet, you had to admit. It wasn’t like Chan had noticed you putting effort into styling him so a little affirmation made your heart swell.

“You don’t have to, I kind of play around with it. I bet you will look good since you seem like you’d look good in anything” You admit shyly.

Mingyu was fun to be around, even if it was your first time meeting, you already felt as if you had known the man for a while. All around Mingyu was just considerate and one of the best people you could’ve ever met.

“Yeah, sure you do, I know you put a lot more effort either way. Let me try this on now, otherwise, I’d be too distracted looking into your eyes. Give me a minute and I’ll show you how it looks,” You nod as Mingyu closes the curtain, only then taking in what he had said to you. He was not being serious but was so smooth with how he flirted with you just now.

A minute had gone by and you heard Mingyu call your name, so you made your way over, only to find your heart nearly falling out of your ass the moment you saw him. He looked so good, great even, and you couldn’t help but stare.

Mingyu adorned a white shirt underneath a black zip-up jacket, adding detail by zipping up the bottom of it, and light-wash jeans. It was a really simple outfit, but you had to admit, he did tie the whole look together.

“How does it look? I think you did well honestly, I’ll buy the entire outfit right now. Let me go change so we can go meet up with the others,” Mingyu smiles.

You were amazing at what you did, it impressed him how you were able to pull such an outfit together in just a few minutes.

“I think it looks great, I’m flattered you like it so much that you’d buy it right now. Maybe I can style you again if there is a next time?” You reply shyly. You couldn’t meet Mingyu’s eyes because he looked so good.

From that moment on, Mingyu made it his mission to heal your heart and prove to you that you deserved a second chance at being treated better.

He had come to your house quite often and taken you out a few times, so much to the point that everyone around you started noticing that you were almost always with each other.

“You know what, this is the happiest I’ve seen you. Your relationship with Chan started to strain and you had become more dull and miserable, but being around Mingyu gave you a new kind of glow for some reason,” Chaeyoung quips.

You tilt your head in confusion, you liked his company but you hadn’t noticed any other changes.

“He’s great, but I’m still hesitant. You know how I am, as I get he’s not Chan, but who knows how everything would play out in the long run?” You say sadly.

Mingyu was more than amazing, he respected your wishes not to have a relationship, but still treated you in ways people could only dream of, but in his words, he was ‘courting’ you, something people don’t do much these days.

He was attentive, took care of you well, and would always be there for you no matter what. He truly was the real definition of being ‘one call away’. This was all so new to you, even being courted was something totally out of the ordinary.

“Y/n, he’s courting you. Not enough people willingly do that these days, so you have the guy wrapped around your finger. He’s patiently waiting for an answer from you, like do you remember everything you’ve told us?” Hyewon huffs out from above you as she is doing your hair.

It was girl’s night and you had decided to bring up your worries and updates to your friends, but you had forgotten the fact that you had also told them the details about your escapades with Mingyu.

From where you would go to what you did, down to the time he took you home, and if Seungcheol truly did approve of him.

“Did Chan ever actually think about how you felt in a certain situation? You know besides you telling him it’s ok and all? Usually being together with someone for over a year would allow you to read them better, but Chan barely knew your little habits. Bora took them in after a month of knowing you, which is concerning. Now on to Mingyu, what did he say that one time?” Chaeyoung snaps her fingers and you instantly know what she is talking about.

You came home one day and had gone the whole day without eating. You were out with your parents and they hadn’t considered if you were hungry or not since they were busy and had already eaten, so when you got home, you quietly slipped next to Mingyu in the living room after seeing the guys watching a movie.

“Hey, you’re home. How was spending the day with your parents?” Mingyu whispers from beside you. You shrug and he gives you a look that encourages you to tell him more.

“I hadn’t eaten anything, but honestly it’s ok now since I’m not hungry at all…” You trail off.

Mingyu shakes his head and takes his phone out, but you go over to stop him. He shouldn’t spend anything on you, and you already told him you weren't hungry so you felt as if you were only bothering him.

“Are you sure you’re not hungry?” You see your favorite restaurant on the delivery app on his phone and blush. Did he remember your favorite restaurant and order? That was sweet of him.

“No it’s ok I can manage,” You pretended not to see him already inputting the order and paying for it, but you still couldn’t help it when your stomach growled loudly. Mingyu raises a brow at you as you chuckle awkwardly.

“I’m getting you food, I know you’re hungry” Mingyu laughs. You hit his shoulder but thanked him gratefully for even thinking of you, it was a small gesture but it still meant a lot.

“How about that time he got you flowers for no reason?” Bora says while laughing.

You roll your eyes, she was the first person you had freaked out to over the phone because Mingyu had gotten you a bouquet of roses on a random Thursday with Seungcheol.

“What’s this?” You ask as Mingyu sets down a bunch of fresh roses wrapped in brown paper on the counter in front of you. Cheol and Mingyu had just gotten back from grocery shopping for your mom and then Mingyu came back with flowers, of course, you would be confused.

“I got you flowers because we saw them on the way out, and I thought you'd like them” Mingyu started taking out the groceries from the bags as your brother walked in with the last batch from the car. You flick Cheol’s forehead, but the older male can only smirk and laugh at you.

“Why? There’s no occasion,” You try to excuse, but you couldn’t hide how flustered you were.

Mingyu had thought of you while they were out? He did mean it when he said he wanted to treat you better.

“Can I not get you flowers even if there’s no occasion? Y/n, you don’t need to ask or have a reason to receive flowers, I hope you know that. I’m surprised this hadn’t been done for you more often than not” Mingyu’s back was still turned toward you, which you were thankful for because you probably looked like a tomato at that moment.

That night poor Bora had to endure an earful from you, just because Mingyu was a great guy who treated you the way you deserved.

Thinking back at those moments, you could only see the good in Mingyu, so you wanted your friends’ approval. He was already brother and parent-approved so that only left your best friends.

“Well, do you guys think I should finally give him an answer? It’s been a few months, and even if I am scared, I can’t let this chance go.” Hyewon finishes up your hair and pats your head, signaling her answer. You look at the others, who only grin back at you and you laugh.

“Y/n, he’s been a green flag since the beginning. It’s a good opportunity knowing he’s the type that’s ready to settle down,” Bora also brings up.

Seungcheol had always emphasized that Mingyu was a date-to-marry and long-term relationship kind of guy, which makes sense as to why you were one of the first people he had ever been super serious with when it came to dating.

“You guys are always the best, I’m glad everyone around me approves. I mean, I won’t know until I try right?” Chaeyoung hugs you and you sigh in content.

You were finally moving on, you were finally healing. It felt fulfilling in a sense, and knowing you were finally starting a new chapter with a great person, you felt as though your life was finally turning out for the better.

After a chaotic girls’ night, you had called up Mingyu to meet you at your favorite cafe that the two of you frequented. You were quite nervous, to say the least, but you were ready to take this huge step of moving on with the person who treated you right.

You hear the bell of the cafe chime, and you finally see the person you were expecting. Mingyu walked in, his hair down in its usual state, and in a casual but comfortable outfit.

He looked like he had just come from the gym. Your heart raced at how good he looked, he always did look his best whenever he came to see you, and you always appreciated the effort.

Mingyu spots you and walks over with a wide smile. He was always so damn charming, you couldn’t believe he was all yours. He pulls out the seat in front of you and plops on it, his attention fully on you. ‘Attentive as always, I don’t deserve you,’ you thought.

“You wanted to talk?” Mingyu finally breathes out upon seeing you. You nod and take his hands in yours, you were going to tell him how you finally felt because he deserved an answer. He had already done so much for you, the least you could do was show him that all his efforts were finally paying off.

“I think I’m ready to give you my answer. The past few months you had decided to court me and I’m thankful you were patient enough to wait for my answer. You’ve proved to me that relationships aren’t limited to how I and my ex went about ours and that if a guy wanted to do something, he would. So my answer is already set, I’ll be your girlfriend, Gyu.” You look up at him, only to see Mingyu grinning like an idiot.

He was elated, he finally got the answer he was waiting for and you saying yes only made it a hundred times better. Mingyu fully understood how much your last relationship had affected you, so he only made it a point to court you, knowing you weren’t ready for a commitment just yet.

He wanted you to be ready for him to love you and treat you the way you deserved, so he didn’t push it and waited for you to come around on your own, which you did.

“You have no idea how happy and relieved I am to hear you say that. Y/n, I’m so glad you gave me the chance to love you and care for you. I’m glad you gave me the chance to prove myself to you. I promise I will not hurt you in any way at all, and I promise to be as communicative as possible with my feelings so that you don’t end up in the dark. I want you to know everything because you deserve it,” Mingyu admits, not breaking his gaze on you.

“Mingyu, you’re everything I could’ve ever asked for. I don’t know what else to say. The past few months I’d been so scared to love again, to give a relationship another chance, but you’ve proved me wrong and even waited for me to be ready. You don’t understand how much that means to me,” You continue to fidget with his hands, but then he suddenly takes yours and places a kiss on your knuckle.

You blush at the action, you weren’t used to feeling or receiving this kind of affection since it had been quite some time, but with Mingyu, you weren’t afraid of anything, because you trusted him as much as he trusted you.

Needless to say, even months after you had given Mingyu an answer, he remained the same and still acted like he was courting you.

The only difference? He was finally your boyfriend and you were finally his girlfriend. You felt how serious he was about you when he had even introduced you to his parents, and they were just as lovely as their son was.

“Mom wants to go shopping with us on her birthday this weekend, I told her I would take her on a birthday date but she insisted you come along. She loves you that much already,” Mingyu chuckles as he walks into your room, fresh out of the shower. You laugh, his mom was the sweetest person, and you finally understand where your boyfriend gets it from.

“I’m down if she’d like, but you’re not getting me anything ok? You already spoil me enough and I don’t want you to spend too much–” You squeal as you feel Mingyu’s arms around you, the two of you falling flat on the bed.

Before you two could move from your position, you heard a knock at your door. It was Seungcheol, and you immediately pulled away from Mingyu once you saw him, still flustered and embarrassed from the previous action.

“Hey, if you two are going to be in the house, at least have some decency while I’m here!” Your brother whines.

You laugh and see him let Kkuma in the room. She had been with Cheol the whole day, so you and your siblings usually took turns spending time with the dog. You were the sibling in Kkuma’s night shift, meaning you had to take the dog in for the night since she liked sleeping in your room.

You thank Cheol for letting Kkuma in and bid your brother goodnight. Once the door closed, you looked over to see your boyfriend on the floor with Kkuma laying on her back.

“Hey, that’s my dog! Kkuma, you can’t just steal my boyfriend like that, and Gyu you can’t just do that to my child!” You joke. They looked perfect, and suddenly you start to imagine what your little family with Mingyu would look like.

Mingyu was the perfect partner to settle with, after all, he was caring and dependable, but also super honest and was not afraid to show or express how he felt. He just knew whenever you weren’t up to do something, or if something was bothering you.

“Is something wrong?” Mingyu noticed that you were more quiet than usual today because you almost always told him about your day. He noticed how your smile hadn’t reached your eyes and how you were fidgeting with your fingers more.

“It’s nothing” You tried to brush it off, but truthfully, you weren’t doing well. You just didn’t have the strength to let him know or the strength to explain how you felt, all you wanted to do was rest and go to sleep.

“Y/n, you can tell me anything ok? Be as open as you want to be, I’m always here for you and will not judge you no matter what. If you don’t have the energy to tell me, it’s ok. Just rest here” You feel his arms being wrapped around you as he strokes your hair. The action was small but it helped you ease up a lot.

“It’s hard Gyu, I don’t know how to deal with everything. I don’t have the energy to stress over anything right now,” You whisper. Mingyu rocks you back and forth, still playing with your hair as he places kisses on your forehead.

“Whatever it is you’re going through, I hope you know that I’m proud enough that you decide to wake up every day and do everything with a smile, even if the world has wronged you. you’re so brave and amazing Y/n, please do not ever doubt yourself” Mingyu replies softly.

“Gyu, you don’t understand how much your words have helped me” You kiss him softly. You felt so lucky to have him, he was beyond the best partner you had ever been blessed with.

“Mingyu, could I ask you something?” You say suddenly. The two of you were at his parent’s place since Mingyu had decided to take you to his childhood home in Anyang as a gift for your four-month anniversary.

“Mhm?” He hummed, putting down a plate of food on the coffee table in the living room, and sitting next to you on the couch.

“Why haven’t we said I love you to each other at any point in our relationship just yet? The others have asked me about it, but I just can’t come up with an answer to get them to leave me alone,” you whine. Mingyu laughs and kisses your cheek gently.

“Tell them that saying I love you isn’t easy when it comes to us, you haven’t said it either so we’re simply making sure that I can say it when the time is right. It’s not that I don’t or anything, but those words aren’t exactly an easy thing to just pop out there. The time will come when we can both say it meaningfully. Right now, we are still early into our relationship and have a lot to learn. I hope you understand where I’m coming from” he tells you.

It wasn’t that hard to understand what he meant. Mingyu had always been more careful, even if he didn’t say I love you, he still affirmed you and expressed his love for you in his actions.

Loving someone still comes in many forms, so the words I love you could wait because they should come from a place where you both fully understand and can comprehend how meaningful the three words are.

“I honestly think the same way, in a sense, I’m glad you’re honest about how you feel because I’ve been in a place wherein I was pressured into doing the action just because it was normal for everyone else, but not all of us are the same. Thank you, Gyu, you’re always the best with words.” Mingyu holds you close and you both sigh in content.

He wanted to treat you better, and he did. He wanted to show you better, and he expressed it in the best way possible.

148 notes · View notes

silantryoo · 1 year

Text

LOOKALIKE ; jang wonyoung

non-idol! jang wonyoung x non-idol! reader

SYNOPSIS ; wonyoung hated herself for letting y/n go, almost as much as she hated her annoyingly smug girlfriend (who everyone hates except for y/n). she knows it's probably too late, but that's not gonna stop her from trying to get her back.

TAGS ; non-idol x non-idol! reader, university au, college au, wlw, angst, fluff, idol au, exs to friends to lovers, slow burn, crack, smau

WARNINGS ; strong language, drama, toxic relationship, emotional manipulation and abuse, slut shaming, overworking, toxic school life, mild violence, suggestive jokes, suicide jokes, mentions of sexual acts

FEATURING ; ive, aespa, kim minju, jo yuri, choi yena, mentions of itzy, nmixx and various other idols

STATUS ; ONGOING!

UPDATE TIMES ; whenever i can

MAIN PLAYLIST!!

profiles. SUMA. WYS-THERAPISTS. 01S-AND-THEIR-BABIES. HAIKYUU-IRL.

chapters.

01. SHE WANTS A HAPPY COOKIE FAMILY

02. i MISJ HER SMM

03. BRO THAT'S GAEUL??

04. does she look like this

05. wonyoung?

06. what? x3

07. bc i love you

08. let me be delulu

09. unlike you

10. on my way!

bonus: all too well

11. REI DELETE

12. sum naruto shit

13. keep smiling.

14. men from itaewon

15. IS IT ME???

16. pls [REDACTED] me

17. yh ok wtvr.

18. pissy pants

bonus: she was better

19. A HICKEY?

20. PARTY???

21. Y/N. GO.

22. eat a dick

23. ill give you a whore

bonus: mansion parties

bonus: jimin's l/n y/n.

bonus: wish you were sober

24. where r u?

25. HUUUUH?

26. in secret.

bonus: peace.

27. you're a minjeong

28. KILL NAOI REI.

29. adopt a friend!

30. virgin

bonus: gravity

31. WHAT IS THAT?

32. love birds

33. ill txt u ltr

34. more than me?

35. this.

36. sexy number

bonus: why.

37. my crescent roll

38. baby pls.

39. hyewon

40. youre so cute

41. TAKE UR MEDS?

42. flowers

43. idc

bonus: minjeong-unnie

44. i need you

45. jiyn

46. huh :D?

47. 2kim

48. anything for you

bonus: gaeul's ahn yujin.

49. choke

bonus: yonsei

50. mj

bonus: minjeong's deal

51. what

bonus: exile.

52. tell me

53. ru fr?

bonus: you owe me

54. i do

55. yizhuo

56. JIWON SAID NO

bonus: it all falls down

57. the (ye)jimin effect

bonus: the last great american dynasty, pt 1.

58. the owva

bonus: the last great american dynasty, pt 2.

59. who tf

60. to me

bonus: goodbye, my danish sweetheart

61. malding

62. consuming...?

bonus: wonyoung's l/n y/n.

63. pls believe me

more to come...

XTRA: jimin's roster, yujin's kim gaeul, yu jimin's playlist, jang wonyoung's playlist

taglist (CLOSED)!!

@serenitygrace24 @moontealemonpie @writingficsblog @kittyeij @cutieseo @limbforalimb @ahnneyong @yumtooki @lcv3lies @sserajeans @jiwoneiric @babycubchae @trsrina @xyxlyn @misumiausworld @slowlyturninggay291 @awkwardtoafault @captivq @ddeonutz @noiacha @sserabey @d7dream @slowlyturninggay291 @lvwr @perfectsunlight @juhyunsthirdwife @uzumakioden @txtbrainrot @rosiehrs @yunjinhart @skisk1 @bzeus28 @deeznutzryu @jisooftme @danistolemyheart @li0ilthecxnt @eggomi @ddoxhan @zhivaxo @sweet-dhrafts @livelaughloveyujin @luveuly @marimo-anura @yunnybunnyy @ivy-aurora @wonyoluvr

#jang wonyoung x reader #ive x reader #iz*one x reader #izone x reader #aespa x reader #kpop x reader #idol x reader #silantryo

1K notes · View notes

braaan · 1 year

Text

Indulgence (w/ Hyewon)

male reader & iz*one hyewon

smut, fluff, angst, 3k words

For as long as you’ve known, you’ve been allergic to chocolate.

You’ve had to just trust me through the majority of your childhood, eyebrows knit and eyes misty as other kids tore through gold and silver foil; biting the inside of your mouth bloody instead of hard-earned Halloween candy.

But you’d be lying if you said you’d never indulged.

Under blankets, cloaked in moonlight, secrecy, and sin, you delighted in what you could sneak to bed in your grubby hands.

And for such an innocent sweet, you pieced together that it was as close to tangible a paradox could get. You reveled in how unwrapped, it was equal parts fully solid and simultaneously already melting into your fingerprints; how in taste, it was equal parts acutely bitter and simultaneously sickly sweet; how to your allergies, it was equal parts undoubtedly delectable and simultaneously why you were sweating in the cold and breaking out into bright pink patches across your neck. The symptoms were nothing close to fatal, of course, just enough of an eyesore that the wiser part of you wouldn’t eat it outside.

So: you could have chocolate, just not the optics.

You’ve pieced together enough that the same antithetical pull is what draws you to Kang Hyewon.

See, when you take the newly vacant student counselor position by next-in-line default, you just trust me’d that it’d be an easy job. You were a newly minted senior with college lined up in the fall, and wanted to take your rite of passage freedom to slack off for the rest of the school year. Now, in lieu of that, you had to man a class outfitted to become a makeshift war room for juniors as they summarized, re-summarized, and then re–re-summarized full life stories into 650-word–bite sizes.

And the college essay was not an easy opponent.

Nothing was sacred enough to not be sharpened into a sob story; tightly-wrapped childhood traumas unpacked for college admissions readers to casually pick away at if it meant more of a chance than the next applicant. The whole experience took a pressure cooker to any crumb of anxiety, and it was now your job to help navigate this.

Hyewon was a junior assigned to your group who you got to know in excruciating detail for two reasons. One, she was a slow writer.

The college application was arguably a solved concept. At best, it was a game of madlibs with a very tough audience. Fill in prompts about your childhood, upbringing, and aspirations to an interesting enough degree, fudging details here and there where you can to pull at heartstrings or fluff up the footsteps you want to follow in, score enough points, tick enough boxes, and you’d have a good shot.

But every time without fail, you got to lean back in your chair as Hyewon approached every new question like it was her first. You got to study her tells: how she tucked her lips into a pout, dimpling her chin; wrestled a hair tie out of where it nestled in her wrist; and gathered everything but two obedient strands of hair out of her face into a loose ponytail, only to slowly inch her gaze towards you a little bit later to ask how everyone else answered the question.

And two, you were absolutely head over heels.

Every time you’ve tried to pinpoint exactly what it is about Hyewon that makes your stomach queasy, you end up finding two more things that do.

One of your first leads came from how she seemingly made striking so soft. When she’d catch you in her gaze, Hyewon had a way of zeroing anything else out; like the implication was that the both of you were sharing a single breath, and any more that you took would take away from hers. No dice.

Another answer came from how from the almond curvature in her eyes, the porcelain ridge on her nose, the satisfied crease that nestled between her lips, down to the curve on her chin, it was like Hyewon physically wasn’t made up of any hard angles; like before God put her on Earth to remind everyone what was holy still existed, an angel double-checked his work. No luck there either.

It only took a couple rounds of this for you to make peace with the ambiguity; that some things were best left unanswered.

The tension that stood in stark contrast to all of this was that you, of course, were her goddamn counselor.

There isn’t a lot of graceful space between being forward and manipulative, and it wouldn’t take too disingenuous of a read for someone to question what was behind your relationship. Something about reciprocation and mutual understanding becoming dishonest when your job was literally getting to the core of Hyewon’s deepest motivations and anxieties — it didn’t take a lot of logic to see how much the guise of writing her essays made things oh so convenient.

The entire situation was at best delicate and at worst, spelled hauntingly awkward hometown visits during spring break, Thanksgiving, and Christmas.

So: you couldn’t have Kang Hyewon, the optics wouldn’t let you.

And as if you needed more of a reason, Hyewon was quirky.

You see, where other burnt out juniors had journaling or, like, gateway drugs, Hyewon had an affirmations folder. Slotted in the corner of her phone, accessible by a one-tap shortcut, was an application that she kept photos and voice notes-

“To remind me I’m doing well,” she asserts in the middle of a particularly long stretch of you poking fun at it. “You sound like you might’ve needed it considering all this projection.”

“Let’s walk back projection some,” you try and parry, palms raised.

“I mean, I’d be jealous too if I realized I did college applications the wrong way,” she adds, singsongy enough to read sweet but also with enough acid that it lands how you both know she intended. And then: “Why don’t you add to it?”

You pause for a beat, and Hyewon takes the cue, her eyes darting from her laptop keyboard to the look on your face.

“Ew, and not in any of the ways you’re thinking,” she spits. “You know, because you’re helping me secure my future at a great college or whatever. It’ll be sentimental or some shit.”

You try for a response, but the wiser part of you shuts you up. You tap the red button on her screen and leave her something sentimental or some shit.

“You’re doing great, Hyewon.”

For better or worse, this was how the two of you operated: permanently playing high school footsies — loaded, foxy, but finished with enough deniability that you could chalk it up to hormones or puberty. And between the two of you, Hyewon was much better at the game. In your defense, though, she didn’t play by the rules. You’d draw a line in the sand-

i just think this is really cliche, your latest Google Docs comment on her personal statement reads. do you not have any other family stories

And she’d dive headfirst over it-

odd way of getting to know me perv, she replies, before: i don’t like it either. i’ll rewrite!

But you knew you had to continue walking it back.

Call it pretend, call it reputational awareness, call it whatever you want, for one reason or another, you were aware of the very thin line of implication the both of you straddled and were afraid enough to never cross it. Balancing on it, sure — you’d swim behind the buoys all day, but you knew better than to test even just beyond where the waves picked up.

Just as luck would have it, though, it seemed like Hyewon followed a cosmic force your polar opposite. Whether on purpose or blissfully ignorant, it felt like she never looked down at where she was from the line, or even if she knew it existed. But whether like a siren out at sea testing your limits or reciprocating your feelings because she felt the same way, you’d never know.

“I just feel like this entire thing is so dumb,” Hyewon remarks, gesturing with a golden fry that drooped downwards like it was somber about the whole thing, too.

It was finally a Friday, which meant that unlike every other day that week in your marathon of after school essay read-throughs and polishing, you could exhale for a little.

You had just finished a long stretch of final edits for your counseling group and were taking things as slow as possible in hopes of making time move the same. You and Hyewon were parked in your car behind an old church building, under the only lamp that worked. Between the two of you sat an oily paper box on top of your center console, housing a scattering of drive through fries and in lieu of ketchup, a single frosty.

“You and everyone in the country, Hyewon,” you smirk, venturing into the box to find the perfect dipping fry.

She returns you an annoyed kiss of her teeth. “Come on. I mean, seriously. For the past couple of months, it’s just been me and how much I can cut up my identity into palatable answers. How much I can think of the future I’ll create. How much I can look backwards and pull out the motivations behind everything I’ve ever done.”

You stop and look over at her. She’s slouched in the passenger car seat, supported mostly only by the small of her back, with her feet up on your dashboard and in the Hyewon usual: everything in a loose ponytail besides two obedient strands. She’s slightly turned away from you, looking longingly at part of her reflection in the rear-view mirror like the implication was that behind the glass, the other her was happier.

You couldn’t help but sympathize. You wondered where you were a year ago, in her shoes: in the middle of writing essays and imagining how you were going to brand yourself for college.

“It’s cliche,” she prefaces. “But I feel like all this looking forwards and backwards… I’m not allowed to enjoy today, you know? The clubs, the grades, the people — I don’t know if I’m doing anything for the application or because I want to do it.”

When you look back at her again, you’re directly in her gaze.

“Are you excited about college?”

You thumb at the fries at the bottom of the box wistfully, if not to buy yourself some thinking time, at least to cut a little bit through the very expectant silence. But you didn’t have much to ponder; you had an answer loaded a long time ago.

You try to couch it as harmlessly as possible.

“I don’t know,” you start, looking for the words. “I guess I’m excited for the clean slate, right? Something about getting to close this chapter of my life and everything that came with it. The clubs, the grades, the people — being done with things I’ll cringe at in a couple of years and questions I didn’t get the answers to.”

You cautiously try for, and catch her gaze again. There’s a beat where you’re both just staring — it could have been a couple, you’re trying your hardest not to keep count — and the line you’re both teetering on erodes, now paper thin. Your ears are hot, expectant; you’re floating by the buoys and reaching out just past, testing the waters.

Hyewon’s eyes soften and her whole body decompresses with her as she lets out a short sigh.

“Beautiful,” she chides, and it’s back to a face you know: the space where her eyes meet the bridge of her nose pinches, and her lips curl up into a satisfied grin. “Some of your best work, really. Like you’re getting desperate for more spots in the affirmation journal.”

And like you rolled down all the windows at the same time, the moment dissipates into the evening, and you’re washed back onto shore.

You tap the red button on her screen.

“Keep going, Kang Hyewon.”

If you were being honest, there was a lot you learned about optics.

Firstly, they were exhausting to keep up with. Sure, there was a level of tactness that at a baseline was acceptable to expect of other people, but anything beyond that strayed into pushing an agenda.

And secondly, no one ever keeps a guise up in private.

Because every day you got back to the four walls of your room, cloaked in nothing but moonlight, secrecy, and sin, all you could think of was Kang Hyewon.

And you’d be lying if you said you never indulged.

Your hands find the familiar length of your shaft as they always did, and as you rouse your cock awake, your fingers working counterclockwise as your girth responds in kind, you’re coaxed to attention by the permanent picture you have of Hyewon.

Her hair is up in her usual ponytail, and you reach out to brush the two loose strands of hair away from her face and behind her ears as she kneels down to get below you, sitting on her feet. There’s a beat where you’re both just staring, Hyewon shadowing your length, her head cocked to the side. You study the almonds that shaped her eyes, how softly her nose sloped before it peaked, and as you got to the crease between her lips, you didn’t think there existed a better place to start.

You press the head of your cock between Hyewon’s lips and almost like she was protesting your entry, her tongue slid out to meet it. Your thumb teases along the slit in your tip as you imagine Hyewon runs a long line of saliva in between it and down the full length of your shaft and back, her tongue flat and obedient, slow and wandering where it wanted.

Hyewon licked you clean, running her tongue in circles around your length, teasing in response as you stroked up and down.

In your other hand, like you needed it, you instinctively pulled up Hyewon’s profile, the quick strokes and key presses to get there like clockwork, burned into your memory. And as luck would have it, as if all the gods above shined on you at once, in her last selfie, Kang Hyewon poked a fat tongue out at the camera, unassuming, teasing, and throwing your lust into wanton overdrive.

“Fuck,” you rasp, breath hot, barely a whisper. “Hyewon, you’re so good at that.”

“Hyewon, you’re doing so well.”

“You’re doing great, Hyewon.”

Completely engulfed under a blanket, safeguarded by only moonlight, secrecy, and sin, Kang Hyewon indulged in the depths of her affirmations journal. One of her hands sloppily swapped between thumbing the play button on her screen and swiping through its pages, and the other hand buried itself deep in her sweatshorts. Hyewon craned her neck towards her phone, getting as close as she possibly could to the small speaker it sported as she cycled through soundbite after soundbite of your praise for her. Her other hand was busy at work, thumbing the alphabet over her clit as she ran two fingers up and down her needy cunt.

She didn’t need to close her eyes long to imagine what she’d burned into her head over nights of repeating this exact sequence, her mouth drying up, breaths broken into short pants as she felt your hands work their way through her sides like she was chocolate, melting into your fingerprints.

You thumbed lazily at her ribs, caressing the skin under her breasts, taking your time as you completely unwrapped her. The full length of your cock replaced where her fingers busily worked, sliding up and down across her sloppy entrance.

The teasing is unbearable — there’s all this implication, tension, and slow burning in the rubbing between her inner thighs that you’re working with — and Hyewon puts all her energy into looking down at where you are. You catch her in your gaze, and through eyes half-lidded, there’s a beat where you’re both just staring — it could’ve been two, Hyewon was trying her best not to keep count.

“Please,” she tries, barely a whisper in the heat. And as she picks up the rhythm against her clit: “Please put your cock in me.”

Because as much as she craved the real thing — getting with her counselor? Could you imagine the optics?

She taps the button on her screen.

“Keep going, Kang Hyewon.”

---

;)

branfics debut! hope you enjoyed!! thank you @capslocked, @majorblinks, @praeluxius, @ggidolsmuts for pre-reading and just truly setting the standard — literally none of this comes out without the inspiration and LUV i get from being around yall

#kpop smut #kpop fanfic #reader insert #idol x male reader #idol x reader #izone smut #hyewon smut

577 notes · View notes

stupidkyupid · 7 months

Text

𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍’ 𝐍 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍’ － 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ！

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : nari and hyunjae have been entangled in their so-called mutually beneficial arrangement for nearly a year now. it's a classic case, really, a 'friends with benefits' situation where the only rule is to avoid catching feelings. nari sees herself as skilled in detaching herself from her emotions, but that facade becomes harder to maintain when her best friend coerces her into joining what she dubs 'the dumb world of a cappella' as a last-minute recruit for the bellas. suddenly, her carefree nights with hyunjae evolve into passionate escapades, and the forbidden nature of their relationship sparks new emotions. what did she expect? she's sleeping with the enemy, and history shows it never ends well.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : treblemaker!hyunjae x newbella!fem!oc

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : pitch perfect au, smau, romance, humour, drama, fluff, angst, college au

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞 : friends with benefits to lovers

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 : complete! | started : 19th november, 2023 | finished : 12th december, 2023

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 / 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 : a face claim will be used (it’s sohee from alice for anyone wondering!), more dramatised versions of the boyz will be used, this fic has no intention to portray their real actions, it’s just for fun. this fic is intended for a mature audience, no direct smut but mentions of sex + sexual jokes, cursing, mentions of drinking, kys jokes, mentions of prostitution, probably more but i’ll try add in anything significant! hyunjae and nari are also the most stubborn + petty people alive so expect a lot of back and fourth (they have a classic on and off relationship which borders on toxic at first), don’t get mad at me for this xoxo also, for some reference, i’ve planned out 22 chapters for this but there may be more depending on what i feel is right! let’s also ignore how i made seulki’s twitter pfp hyewon when her fc is sihyeon 😝

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝗈𝗋 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇!)

comments and reposts are appreciated + my asks are always open!!

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 : alvin and the chiphunks | dilf nation

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 :

i. 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖺 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗆𝗎𝗇𝗄

ii. 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖺𝖾

iii. 𝗃𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗇 = 𝗌𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗅𝗄𝗂??

iv. 𝗇𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗃𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗀𝖾

v. 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖺 𝗃𝗈𝗄𝖾.

vi. 𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖿 𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾

vii. 𝖼𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝖾𝗆𝗈 𝖻𝗈𝗒

viii. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝖻𝗈

ix. #𝖾𝗐𝗀𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗄

x. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗒??

xi. 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗀𝖺𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝗇

xii. 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗉 (𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗈𝖽𝗈𝗋𝖾’𝗌 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇)

xiii. 𝗂𝗇𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖻𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝖼𝗄

xiv. 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍? 𝗂’𝗆 𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽, 𝗂 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖽𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍

xv. 𝗇𝗈𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗉𝗎𝗍𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗍

xvi. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗇𝗎𝗇𝗃𝖺𝖾

xvii. 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗄𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗈𝖽𝗈𝗋𝖾. 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾.

xviii. 𝖲𝖨𝖬𝖮𝖭 𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖧𝖤𝖱𝖤 𝖡𝖴𝖣𝖣𝖸

xix. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖻 𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗌

xx. 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝖿𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝖾𝗇

xxi. 𝖡𝖥𝖥𝖶𝖧𝖮𝖯𝖡𝖥

xxii. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖺𝖾

xxiii. epilogue

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @simpinghrs @zwiehe @deobi0412

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yorucean · 1 year

Text

A Warm Shelter —

an Olivia Hye/Gowon (hyewon) AU.

“One hot americano, please.”

Hyeju ordered, without taking her eyes off her bag as she was trying to find her wallet.

“I guess you didn't like latte anymore, huh?”

The barista's voice slipped smoothly into Hyeju's ears like water flowing to the river. It was quiet, warm and friendly—but Hyeju's heart was racing, like a drum beating out a frantic rhythm.

Suddenly her senses were becoming sharp. Even though her heart was beating like crazy, she could hear the sound of the doorbell as some new customers made their way inside, her eyes caught onto the familiar wooden clock on the corner of the shop, and... A sense of longing crushed her heart as she smelled the scent of her favorite warm latte, one that was so specific that it left no room to be mistaken as anyone else's recipe.

Oh.

Everything clicked into place now.

Hyeju knew it was familiar.

Everything in there was familiar.

“Hyeju?”

That soft, crunchy-like voice greeted her again, forcing her to look up. She was afraid to see what kind of expression she would face as soon as she lifted up her chin—only to be met with the sparkling, bright brown pupils, along with a warm smile on her ex-girlfriend's face.

Hyeju felt like her world fell apart.

Tags: Angst, Exes, Hurt/Comfort, Open Ending, Short Oneshot.

Word Count: 1,3k.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47829262

#fanfiction #hyewon au #loona au #loona fanfiction #hyewon #hyewon loona #gowon #oliviahye #loona #angst #oneshot

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kyoaeri · 2 months

Note

moots as fruits !

okkk let’s do this !! if i missed anyone , pls tell me :(

@onlyjjong : peach , lili is such a kind and talented person and she’s sweet like peaches !! i rlly love peach flavored things so maybe that’s why i chose this ><

@reichamii : strawberry , we both have cute red themes right now and blythe is literally the cutest kindest sweetest ever just like a strawberry !!!

@flwrstqr : plum , idk if its cause of dani’s new theme or her writing or just her as a person (maybe all of the above) but i’m getting plum vibes !! plums are sssoo good in all colors and i think thats totally dani !! she can write any genre and itll be incredible

@cupidhoons : pear , liz is sososo sweet and her WRITINGG omg its literally amazing ?? she’s so pear coded idk (it might be because i just really like pears shhh)

@dioll : lemon , now don’t get me wrong nae is SSOO sweet as a person , but i put her as lemon because HER ANGST WORKS ?? theyre incredible they make me sob and cry and yeah lemon vibes !!!

@copyhanni : apple , just like plums , apples are good no matter the color , and that’s hyewon !! she can write any genre and its gonna be a masterpiece ><

@wonfilms : mango , this one makes sense in my head i swear !!! mango is ssoo good and elle is so nice and talented !!! mango is also so smooth and that’s elle’s writing , its so enjoyable to read just like mango is !!!

@wonifullove : blackberries , i actually haven’t had blackberries in forever but i remember them being yummy >< i put sav as blackberries cause she’s like super duper cool (and sometimes it makes me intimidated huhu) but yeah blackberry vibes !!! idk if that makes sense but it does in my head

#my luvs ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა #these moot games are sssooo fun !!

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xuqijie · 1 year

Text

kim minji x f!reader

# tw ; none

# genre ; fluff, tiny bit of angst

you agreed to the outing. a vial of antidote in your pocket and kim minji’s bright smile, how could you choose between the two?

the date was settled. your outing would be carried out on a tuesday and one of minji’s maids had delivered a handwritten letter to you.

you could only make out some parts of the writing, with minji’s scribbles and scrawled penmanship. something about how she was incredibly nervous… happy and excited… and more about how she fawned over your dress that you had worn during her birthday banquet. at the end, a tiny note read, ‘wear something fit for exercise, yet casual.’ and you were meant to meet her at the crack of dawn, the letter stating something about how it was more romantic.

despite all the sweet innuendos, a frown overtook your face. exercise? it wouldn’t be a surprise to anyone but physical activity wasn’t really your strong suit. your talent belonged behind books and cauldrons. to be put simply, you sucked. sucked horribly at sports.

the perpetrator who had caused this whole ordeal had merely brushed you off, saying, “c’mon y/n, put on your big boy boots and snog her or something!” you had thrown haerin out immediately.

your outfit was a simple blue vest with a collared shirt underneath and a random pair of trousers that you found in hyewon’s closet. you also slipped a vial of the antidote into your pocket. once you had deemed it acceptable for any type of activity minji would have prepared, you left the cottage.

to your surprise, minji was just a few feet away, her eyes gleaming once she caught sight of you.

“y/n!” minji exclaimed, “i was waiting for you.” you blinked. the princess looked… extremely gorgeous. her outfit was almost the same as yours but instead she had an adorable beret that sat on top of her head.

“how’d you find where i stayed?” you asked, shocked. hyewon’s cottage was deep into the woods and most people wouldn’t have even ventured down the forest.

minji eyed you awkwardly, shifting her weight between her feet, “i kind of, followed you.” you gaped. if it was anyone else, you would have murdered them on the spot. but this was kim minji. the princess.

obviously you couldn’t slaughter the princess. that would cause so many political issues. and a minji-shaped gap in your heart would occur, your inner thoughts shared.

cursing your mind, you put on an equally sheepish grin.

“it’s all right… shall we head off then?” you supplied, already wanting to escape the nerve wracking conversation. minji’s eyes lit up and she nodded enthusiastically.

the princess held out a hand, her lips curled up into a smile. and for a few seconds, you stared blankly at the open palm, minji secretly wondered if you were just going to leave her there. putting on a brave front, you intertwined your fingers with hers and gripped it softly.

your simple action had boosted minji’s confidence as she rambled on about her princess duties and how her elder cousins would be visiting the kingdom soon.

“they would require another banquet,” she groaned, “and i would be the designated planner once again. i’m not really sure why the princess’s duty consists of party planning!” you giggled at her.

“don’t you rich people have personal party planners?”

minji turned to you, faux disgust on her face as she led you into a carriage, “that’s outrageous. too much confidential information would be revealed. there’s a high risk of sabotage.”

“on a party?”

“yes! did you know that a few decades ago, my great grandfather's coronation was sabotaged by a hired mercenary that spiked the grape wine?” minji said, “it was simply petrifying for all the guests when one of the food tasters dropped dead.”

you could only listen nervously. you were pretty sure that the attempted assasination was your ancestor’s fault, once hearing a similar story from hyewon.

“and also, it had caused a new law that was set, about how banquet’s now needed to be authorised by the royal court! in 1927, another law was created because one of the maids had— sorry, am i boring you?” minji widened her eyes. you tilted your head, “no? not at all.”

the princess swallowed audibly, “i just feel like i’m rambling on, you don’t look like you’d be interested in decrees and laws.” you rolled your eyes playfully.

“just because i break a lot of them, doesn’t mean i’m not interested, silly. i think it’s cute how a princess like you is so fond of royal decrees,” you smiled, “ever think of joining that royal court of yours?”

minji opened her mouth then instantly closed it, blushing a violent red all across her cheeks.

“well, no. but i think i might reconsider,” she muttered before spinning her head around and smiling widely.

“y/n, we’re here.” you peered out the window, a gasp escaping your lips. a plain field of grass spread before the sunrise, and horses equipped with saddles awaited you.

“wow,” you blurted out, “it’s amazing.” you heard minji humming in agreement but when you turned to her, you found her eyes tracking your face.

you scoffed when she sent a playful wink at you.

“you’re such a flirt.”

“only for you,” minji said. at times like this, you could feel the guilt clawing at you. minji shouldn’t have to plan all these elaborate dates out for someone that she doesn’t even have actual feelings for. she shouldn’t have to flirt and laugh with someone who was taking advantage of her. she didn’t need to do that all. but you forced her to. these weren’t her true intentions. why did that cause such a strange feeling in your chest?

because you like her, stupid, future you would retort.

feeling minji’s eyes on you once more, you shot her a small smile. as if saying you were fine. albeit slightly more conscious now, minji brought you to one of the ponies and ran through all the safety instructions.

“i’ve ridden a horse before, minji,” you laughed, “i know how to saddle it, don’t worry so much.”

minji shot you a sheepish grin as she rubbed the back of her neck, “i just want you to be safe.” you send a soft smile back before saddling the white horse beside you.

once seated, you and minji rode around the grass plains for a good hour, minji constantly sharing stories about her family and you just listening.

“this was really fun,” you remarked, slowing your horse’s pace as you headed back to minji.

“i’m glad you liked it, y/n.” minji turned around, beaming at you.

you halter in your steps, heart racing a mile. her hair gleamed under the sun and her eyes held stars. you travel your gaze further down to her lips. pink, luscious lips that would definitely be softer than anyone’s bed. you felt as if your heart was in your throat.

“you’re… so pretty,” you blurted out, not being able to control yourself. the princess raised her eyebrows.

“really?”

you nodded stiffly, “yes. you’re the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen.”

“that’s such a compliment, especially from you,” minji winked. you tried to let out a laugh, but the only thing you could feel was guilt.

you shouldn’t be the one here complimenting minji. you shouldn’t be the one riding off on horses with the princess. and you definitely shouldn’t feel anything for her.

you made a decision as the two of you led the horses back.

“minji,” you started out, “are you sure you actually like me?” minji opened her mouth to retort but you continued, “on the day we met, i gave you a love potion. your feelings for me are fake. you’re under the love potion, that’s why you like me.”

the princess frowned, “no i’m not.”

“you are! that’s the only reason why you’re acting like this! listen minji… i… i’m sorry, for deceiving you and taking advantage of your kindness. but i really don’t deserve this. you deserve better!” you exclaimed.

minji sighed, “y/n, i really don’t know what you’re talking about. you’re all that i want.”

you groaned, getting more and more frustrated, “i’m all that you want? even if you weren’t under the love potion, you don’t know me! you don’t know what i like, dislike or anything!”

“then let me get to know you.”

“minji, it doesn’t work like that. i reckon you just take this, and we forget everything between us, all right?” you shoved the vial into her hands and watched intently as she observed it.

“y/n, what’s this?”

“the antidote. for the love potion. please drink it and we can forget anything that happened today.” you glanced at the princess, feeling your stomach tighten as hurt flashed across her face.

minji narrowed her eyes, “if you think that a silly antidote could rid my feelings for you, then you’re wrong. but fine, if that is what you desire…” she popped open the cork and chugged the blue liquid down.

you almost sighed in relief, but the inner part of your heart was screaming.

“how… how do you feel?” you asked nervously.

minji turned to you, a scowl on her face, “i feel the same. is this just an elaborate joke? are you shaming me for liking someone of the same gender?”

you looked at her, mortified, “no! i could never shame you for doing so.”

“well i feel the same. your stupid antidote didn’t work,” minji scoffed, “since you’re so intent on forgetting, i’ll bring you back and leave you alone.”

“minji…” you pleaded, “i’m not kidding! seriously, i threw a love potion at you!”

the princess rolled her eyes, “and i just drank your antidote. i feel as usual and i still have feelings for you. but it’s fine, let’s forget today even existed.” you internally gasped at the realisation, but your blank stare must have answered some questions for minji, who spared a final glance at you before almost sprinting to the carriage.

you chased after her. you couldn’t let minji think that this was all just a scheme to humiliate her. you managed to get a grip of minji’s wrist and you pulled her back to face you.

“what do you want now?”

“i like you, kim minji,” you stated, “and it’s not because of a love potion.”

minji’s gaze softened.

“you’re not kidding, right?”

“no. i like you. i have feelings for you,” you repeated.

after a moment of silence, you wondered if minji was going to reject you. after all, you did invalidate her feelings. closing your eyes, you braced for the rejection. but you only felt a weight on your shoulder.

“please never do that again,” minji said, her voice muffled against your shoulder, “you don’t know how heartbroken i was when you accused me of having fake feelings.”

you sighed at your past self’s obliviousness.

“i’m terribly sorry, my princess.”

“my princess? is that my new nickname?”

“yes it is,” you smiled, holding minji’s body close to yours, enjoying the warm embrace minji gave.

#kim minji x reader #minji x reader #new jeans x reader

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octoberautumnbox · 2 months

Note

What are some of your favorite angsty fics? I'm in that kind of mood today

I dont come by many angst fics sadly so I can't recommend any that come to mind :(((( but there are some semi-angst box mini fics if ur interested :DDD

Yuri vs. Yena & BF

Yuri vs. Yena x Chaewon

Box vs. Hyewon

Yuri vs. Yena x BF

Yuri vs. BF ft. Yujin

tbh I didnt think ppl came by my little autumn box for angst LMAO but here u go anon!

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planetkiimchi · 1 year

Text

a love letter to your ex | x.dj

featuring: xiao dejun x gn!reader (but y/n tries to wear a skirt so), huang guangheng (hendery) ft. huang renjun, johnny suh

warnings: mentions of food, glass shards, mentions of blood, xiaojun is an idiot, so so much angst. i didn’t realise i was this evil? but anyway hope it’s good angst <3

word count: 5.6k

summary — dealing with a breakup is hard. but you thought that it would be because you hated the other person, not because you still loved them! no one told you that. xiao dejun, in particular, seems especially determined to make things harder for you, and maybe, just maybe, you want to go running back to him.

dedication: @loves-theory hey nada! i hope you enjoy this one, and it doesn't let you down after the sneak peek you got. it's kinda crazy how this one came out less fluffy than i thought it would, but i hope it's okay.

GETTING OVER PEOPLE IS HARD. You would know. Yes, you and Xiaojun had broken up on good terms, knowing full well that you couldn’t put up with his late-night gaming and his habit of just kissing you instead of making up properly. In turn, he found you too organised (and particular) for him to deal with and hated your club-going habits.

So yes. You realised you just couldn’t live with each other. But that didn’t mean you didn’t love him anymore, and you definitely still liked him.

You see, it’s very difficult to undo months of loving habits and strange peculiarities. Every time you tied your hair, you were reminded of his fingers running through your hair and getting tangled in it, while you laughed it off because you loved him. Even if you were just a little bit annoyed.

You signed your texts with an “xx y/n” because that’s how Xiaojun did it. He always started his texts with “dearest y/n”, and signed off with “your favourite man”. Which was true, at least until you broke up.

With all this in mind, it was very difficult to be “just friends” with Xiao Dejun, despite your wholehearted promises that you would try your best to do so. Because all he had to do was run his hands through his hair, and you found yourself falling into the rabbit hole of no return.

Again.

These were the thoughts running through your mind as you half-heartedly listened to your friends, Shin Hyewon and Kim Aeri, discuss their own love troubles. Only theirs were much more amusing to listen to, because Aeri’s boyfriend, Renjun, was a literal angel. Her love troubles went something like, “He bought me my favourite perfume for Valentine’s Day, but I can’t get him anything for White Day because I’m broke and I feel so bad. Do you think he thinks I’m a gold digger because I never get him anything?”

(You don’t think Renjun would ever think that of her. Renjun is the most understanding person you’ve met, and he doesn’t look down on anyone. Out of all the trashy men in the universe, Renjun is definitely the most likely to be empathetic to Aeri’s financial debt, even if he didn’t and could never relate. That was just the kind of man that he was.)

You didn’t have to say that aloud, because Hyewon was ready to be the voice of reason. In the least patronising tone possible, she managed to convey your thoughts exactly without any snarky remarks that reminded Aeri how lucky she was to have a boyfriend like Renjun. Which was three entire snarky remarks less than you could have managed.

Hyewon’s troubles, on the other hand, often went unsaid. Hyewon hated to make things about her, even when she was obviously in need of support. You and Aeri had realised that if Hyewon needed help, you would have to provide it subtly, so as not to hurt her pride.

Hyewon was a strong, independent woman (who sometimes needed her man). But Johnny was a busy person, and sometimes he got caught up in his work, prioritising “his boys” over his girlfriend. Hyewon was no stranger to being stood up by Johnny, and there had been many a time that you and Aeri had had to show up in a fancy restaurant to order one meal to share to save your wallets. There were never any questions asked, but it went without saying that Hyewon’s relationship wasn’t the best.

The real reason she stuck with him was that Johnny had been the perfect picture of a significant other for three years, and after five years of dating, Hyewon just didn’t want to give that up. For a while, you even thought that Johnny might be intending to propose.

You supposed, that with all the similarities in yours and Hyewon’s relationship, you should have guessed that it would end up similarly. Not wanting a loveless, unmaintainable relationship, you had broken up with Xiaojun on good terms. It was a mutual breakup. It was supposed to be a stepping stone in the journey of your life. It was not supposed to be something to haunt you for the rest of your holiday.

Perhaps deciding to work at an amusement park was not a good idea, you fretted. You, Aeri and Hyewon had decided to do it ever since you were in highschool, to get a taste of having a job that was fun and exciting before you lost the chance to. At the time of decision-making, it had seemed like the perfect way to get a discount to theme-park tickets for a date with Xiaojun.

Now, it felt like a painful reminder of how many of your classmates, friends, and Xiaojun’s friends frequented amusement parks during the school holidays. Friends who were almost 100% sure to pity you for your breakup. (Friends who didn’t understand the concept of a breakup without cheating or shouting or crying or arguments involved.)

“Riri? Is it okay if I wear this to work?” You twirled around in the mirror, calling out through the open door.

“It doesn’t matter anyway, they’ll give us standard jackets to put on and—” Aeri’s voice, which had been growing louder as she came closer, stopped abruptly. “Y/n, I know your fashion taste leans towards the cutesy side, but I don’t think they’ll allow you to wear a plaid skirt to work. In winter. In the outdoor amusement park.”

You smile sheepishly. Aeri never criticised your fashion taste before, mostly because you took after her for the most part. However, that meant that you didn’t have a perspective on what to wear to different occasions, because your wardrobe consisted of the same style of clothes in different colours and patterns.

Hyewon grinned as she came in, taking your outfit in. “Is this how you plan to make Xiaojun jealous? Because it’s definitely going to work.”

You scowled at her. Was there no way to put the unprofessionalism of your clothing choice nicely? Hyewon was dressed practically in a black suit with a blazer, and she looked like she would blend in easily in an office situation. Clearly, you needed to borrow from her repertoire of comfortable yet presentable clothes.

Hyewon tossed you a matching set of black trousers and a white blouse, pulling Aeri out and closing the door as they left you to get changed.

“Oh and by the way, you have ten minutes to eat breakfast, or we’ll be late.” Way to make an exit, Shin.

IT WAS BITTERLY, FREEZING COLD. You had left your chapstick at home, and you were sorely regretting it. Despite the morning rush, your chapstick was an essential item and you never should have left home without it. You wrap the standard coat, laced in an ugly orange colour to differentiate the staff from the park visitors, tighter around your body as you try not to visibly hop from foot to foot. That’s a surefire way to get fired before even working for a day there.

Luckily, you were not working at the entrance, scanning people’s tickets as they passed through the barrier. That would mean having to look at your classmates individually and watch the flash of recognition pass over their face and the excitement in their eyes turn into pity. Why was it always pity?

Instead, you were out in the cold, limbs freezing to death. “Move along,” you called out, clicking the metal clicker once for each person passing through. One, two, three, four…

“Y/n?” Oh crap who is it please don’t be Yangyang or Haechan or one of the nosy ones…

Oh. It’s even worse, you realised as your heart sank. It was Hendery, the school prince. Probably prettier than yourself and master of making everyone’s heart swoon with his jet-black hair, which fell over his face and the back of his neck in waves. He was accompanied by no other than his best friend, Xiao Dejun.

You couldn’t help but feel the sting of, not jealousy, per se, but something close to betrayal and closer still to missing and longing. You used to be Xiaojun’s best friend, his confidante, his other half. Yet, it had taken no longer than the span of a week for you to lose your title and fall to the ranks of a, if not real then at least a forced, stranger.

You avoided his eyes and tried to remain in working mode. Because if he just bit his lip or turned his head to show off his perfect, sharp jawline, you probably wouldn’t be able to focus. In fact, you might just collapse right where you were, and your job would go right down the drain.

You chose instead to focus on Hendery, holding out one hand to stop them from progressing further in the queue. “Please wait here, sir.”

“Your lips are really dry. Would you like to borrow my chapstick?” You looked down at Hendery’s hands as he offered you his chapstick. Actually, you would, you decided. Your lips were cracked and you still had the rest of the day to endure. It wasn’t going to get any better, so you would take any help that was thrown your way.

You applied it quickly and gratefully before returning it to Hendery and waving the next batch of park visitors into the ride. Obviously, you realised the health concerns, but you weren’t crossing any boundaries socially. Over your time spent as Xiaojun’s significant other, you had grown close to Hendery, enough so that you could borrow items of his without feeling awkward or strange. As you waved them through, you didn’t miss the expression of jealousy that flashed over Xiaojun’s face, feeling a small sense of triumph at getting him to feel the way that you had.

LATE EVENING, SNOW FELL in dribs and drabs. It was still only the beginning of winter, so there was no heavy snow and no flurry of white, chilly wind. However, it was dark outside and freezing, and your blood felt frozen. You could swear your bones were stiff from the cold.

Still, it was a lovely evening, and the coat was comfortable enough. There was only one last batch of people going on the ride before the theme park closed, and just as you let them in with a smile, Xiaojun passed by.

You hadn’t been able to pay attention to him earlier, but his cheeks were red from the low temperature, and his eyes were as starry as the night sky. His smile was exactly the same as you remembered, gentle and encouraging.

“Are you leaving yet?” He asked.

“No.” Of course, as a staff member you would have to close up the ride before you could leave. It wouldn’t take long, but you didn’t want to be left alone with Xiaojun for any longer than a few seconds. More than that, and you couldn’t—and didn’t want to be—responsible for what would happen.

Hendery came up to the both of you, panting slightly. He had clearly been running, which gave rise to the question, had Xiaojun ran to find you? Why was he still at the park so late?

As the questions ran through your mind, Xiaojun said, “I’ll wait for you outside the entrance,” leaving before you could protest. Even if he had, what would you have said to him? You knew that once his mind was set, he wouldn’t change it no matter how hard you tried to persuade him.

You were saved by your coworker calling your name, and you went inside the heated area (oh, blissful warmth) and tried not to stress too much about it.

The sound of Hendery asking Xiaojun, “What are you doing, man? They clearly don’t want to talk to you.” didn’t go unheard by you, but by then they were too far away for you to be sure, and you had trouble discerning Xiaojun’s response.

The ambiguity of the sentence hung in your mind, fogging your senses. You mindlessly swept the snow off the seats and wiped them down, your body going through the motions, mimicking your coworker’s without a second thought.

However, as you picked up the lost and found items, your mind was on Hendery’s words. He was right, Xiaojun was (weirdly) a sore subject for you, and you didn’t really want to talk to him more than you had to. It went without saying that what Xiaojun was doing probably went further than what most friends did, and hovered in the grey area between platonic and romantic. Obviously, you still loved Xiaojun. You understood that he cared for you, but if he didn’t stop that you were going to fall for him all over again.

True to his word, Xiaojun was waiting outside the theme park for you, with Hendery idling beside him. Hendery’s arms were crossed over his chest, tapping his foot impatiently when you arrived. He shrugged his shoulders, as if to say, I tried to stop him. What more can I do?

But Xiaojun was too focused on you to realise the silent conversation you two were having. He looked like he was having trouble restraining himself from rushing over to envelope you in a hug. He jiggled his knee nervously as you went over hesitantly.

Aeri and Hyewon waited beside you, huddled together in the cold, but you were too curious to be bothered by such a superficial thing.

“What do you want?” Hyewon asked for you, seeing how slow you were to speak.

“P-please hurry so w-we can go home,” Aeri chimed in, teeth chattering.

“Just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Xiaojun mumbled. Noticing how red your ears were, he removed his scarf and wrapped it around you, almost as familiar as when he’d done it before you had broken up.

“I’ll meet you at the café down the street when school starts again?”

“I- Alright,” you sighed. Stupid feelings and the way you always fell for him.

“STUDY HANGOUT’,” AERI SAID mockingly, making bunny ears as she did so. “Yeah, right. It’s obviously a café date.”

“Ugh!” You threw your hands up in the air in defeat, collapsing in a heap on the bed. Xiaojun had taken you to that café so many times before for dates, and now that you two were “just friends”, he thought it would be okay to reuse the same idea? That wasn’t going to work!

Your friends weren’t oblivious, they knew Xiaojun still liked you, but you really thought you had made it clear that now that you were broken up, you would have to draw a line somewhere.

“I need to bring a friend,” you decided. “Someone who can make the boundaries clear and prevent us from doing stupid things— Not you, Hyewon. That’s too obvious. Maybe… Ten?”

Hyewon shook her head. “He’s too transparent, and he’ll either be absorbed in something else or completely forget that he’s the chaperone and not a wingman.”

“Kun?”

Aeri quickly shot off a text, and the ‘ding’ sound chimed almost immediately after. “He’s busy.”

“That leaves… No.” You stopped in your tracks. You couldn’t! That would be too awkward for all three of you. Plus, you inviting Xiaojun’s friend over? Wouldn’t that be against protocol?

Hyewon grinned. “Yes.”

“No!” You leapt up from the bed, trying to leave the room, but Hyewon blocked the way.

“Think about it. It’s perfect: Xiaojun would feel too awkward with his best friend around to hit on you, you and Hendery know each other well, and Hendery definitely agrees that Xiaojun shouldn’t go back to you. He’ll definitely cooperate the best among all of them. Unless you think Yangyang could do a better job?”

“There’s always Winwin,” you offered meekly.

Hyewon scoffed. “Please! As if he could look up from his games. Or if Kun successfully gets him to change this year, then he won’t be able to leave the library. They’ll be studying together.”

You sighed defeatedly. There was no use in arguing, once Hyewon had won the argument, she would definitely not budge. Aeri didn’t want to go against her, either, so you were forced to ask Hendery to chaperone you.

“Okay,” you announce. “He said yes.”

Hyewon nods approvingly.

YOU WERE THE SECOND TO REACH, and when you made a move to sit down, Hendery waved you over. You sat down opposite him, watching his concerned eyes but not giving any kind of answer.

The silence settled like sediments at the bottom of a flask of unstirred tea, uncomfortable and distinct from the smooth conversations you were used to, but nothing that would be harmful to your relationship.

Seconds passed, stretching like minutes. You tried your best not to fidget, avoiding Hendery’s eyes before his concern could overwhelm you. The anxiety and sweaty hands were enough to deal with.

“So what’s going on with you and Xiaojun?”

Speaking of the devil… Before you could reply, Xiaojun saved you from the awkward situation. He came up to you two, confused but not surprised at seeing his best friend and ex at the same table. His hands were behind his back, clearly hiding something.

“Am I interrupting?” You shook your head, and Hendery moved over for Xiaojun to sit.

With a shy smile, Xiaojun presented you with a small bouquet of flowers. The bouquet was a deep shade of red, with red chrysanthemums, carnations, and camellias, with blue salvias hidden in the center. You didn’t know how to tell him what the flowers really meant, having been interested in the language of flower bouquets for a time before.

“From a friend,” Xiaojun said quickly. “Just- just a friendly bouquet. For our friendship.”

How many times did he need to say it to convince himself? Because you knew better than anyone that Xiaojun did not give thoughtless gifts.

Red chrysanthemums, I love you. Red carnations, my heart aches. Red camellia, you’re a flame in my heart. Blue salvia, think of me.

Xiaojun knew what he was doing. You could see him asking the florist what best to give, trying to describe his message in terms that fit the flowers. You could see him watching attentively as the florist arranged the flowers delicately, carefully carrying it from the florist’s to the café.

And it was your anniversary. White day. You should be giving him flowers, if you were together. That was traditional, and you adored tradition. You always wrote a note or a card when you gave him gifts.

“Happy White Day!” You grinned, holding out the chocolate controller. You had specially ordered it for your one year anniversary, and were so proud of it.

“Happy White Day,” he replied softly, gazing at the controller with loving eyes. Perhaps, that was the same gaze he used to look at you. You tilted your head as if to say, Well? as you eagerly awaited his response.

“It’s beautiful.”

“It’s beautiful,” you told him. Then, right as he sighed in relief, “But not from a friend to a friend.”

Your words were whispered, but perhaps still too harsh. You took care to keep your voice low and not attract attention, but it didn’t ease the pain.

“Really, Jun? I love you, my heart aches, you’re a flame in my heart? Think of me? You can’t expect me to believe you randomly picked a bouquet. I know you too well for that. I don’t know what you mean by it, maybe you didn’t want me to know outright, but I do. And we can’t keep doing this anymore. I really can’t live like this, Dejun. You can’t keep chasing after me and expect me to be okay.”

“Why would you have to?” He asked, getting heated. Hendery put a hand on him, ready to calm him down—wrestle him back into sitting if needed—but he immediately lowered his volume.

“Because. We broke up, Dejun.” You stood up as you said this. You made to leave, and Xiaojun stopped you with a hand that was clearly clutching something. You pushed him away, maybe a bit too hard, because whatever was in his hand clattered to the ground. You noticed that the clear shards resemble glass, a choked gasp of shock stuck in your throat.

You stumbled back, too stunned to notice that you accidentally stepped on what’s left of his gift. You were so busy trying to get away that you didn’t see what happened next.

XIAOJUN FELL TO THE GROUND on his knees. tears streaming from his eyes. Quiet sobs wracked his body as his chest heaved, practically breaking down. He picked up as much of the glass as he could, the crystal shards glinting cruelly back at him. He sobbed as he tried (and failed) to put his broken heart back together, except it felt like it was falling apart exactly the way the shards of his gift did in his hands.

Hendery had seen enough.

“Get up,” he told Xiaojun. He handed him a stack of napkins, which Xiaojun used to wrap the shards in, stuffing it into his pocket. “Don’t touch anything, I don’t want you getting splinters and needing to go to the accident and emergency unit.”

Xiaojun's hands slid into his pockets, and Hendery immediately pulled them out. "You have glass on your hands. Don't be an idiot, you're already doing enough to hurt yourself."

Hand still on Xiaojun's wrist, he dragged him back to the bus stop, mumbling under his breath, "I just don't get why."

Xiaojun’s mind went blank as Hendery brought him over to his house, picking the splinters from his palms with a tweezer, muttering under his breath. Hendery’s parents weren’t home, or they would have asked Xiaojun to sit down for a cup of tea and fussed over his injuries like he hadn’t fractured his leg playing football before.

Luckily, Xiaojun was mostly fine. The blood was minimal, and there weren’t any deep gashes or cuts. The glass in his pocket dug against his hip bone, but the discomfort was at least familiar, and better than the emptiness he would feel for weeks without you.

Hendery slammed bandages and antiseptic on the counter, watching Xiaojun to make sure he cleaned up his wounds properly. Xiaojun tugged the bandages tightly around his palm, mouth pressed tightly together unhappily.

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself, you complete fool. You have to let them go. Don’t talk to them until you can do it without crying. I know, breakups hurt, but you agreed. Both of you are mature enough to get through this, you hear me?” Hendery reverted to Cantonese to say this to Xiaojun, sighing exasperatedly.

Xiaojun didn’t know if he could promise that. He didn’t know if he could live with a gaping hole in his heart, with the lack of interaction and “love you”s, cuddling under sheets with you.

He missed you so, so much, every bit of you. From the tilt of your head to the tips of your hair that curled when the air got too humid, the baby hair that fell in your face. He loved to watch you shake your head in annoyance, the hair curling around your ear in familiarity. The glint of your eyes when you were up to something, the way they sparkled when you held back tears, how they disappeared when you smiled.

He missed pressing kisses into the curve of your dimple-less smile, brushing over your cheeks and reminding you how stunning you were even when you were insecure of your skin. Loved the way your neck fit just right against him when you hugged him, the crook of your neck perfect for falling asleep in.

He missed your hands. Missed how icy cold they were in air-conditioned rooms, the gentle warmth coming off of them after gym class. Missed holding hands with you, fingers interlaced in a comfortable, unchanging pattern.

He wanted you back, wanted to carry you back into his life and welcome you to the home as if you’d never left. He wanted to have a conversation with you and not have it end in awkward silence, wanted to go back in time and change everything and what did he do wrong?

Could he have done something to make you cry when he gave you flowers, made you despise him to the point where you consciously avoided him? He couldn’t remember, but sometimes you bottled up your feelings and exploded at the seemingly smallest things. It took time to unpack your feelings and talk about it, after you’d avoided confrontation for so long.

He wanted you back, and he knew that to do that he had to apologise first.

EXCEPT THAT HE DIDN’T REALLY know how to. Not when Hyewon glared at him as soon as he got within two meters of you. Aeri’s glare was even scarier, it killed his courage immediately.

He had always seen Aeri as demure, pretty but innocent, and completely harmless. He hadn’t seen her defend somebody with her eyes, baring her teeth without opening her mouth in the slightest.

Her face fell so quickly when she saw him, scaring him away immediately. He couldn’t get near you, and as days went by, he started to question if it really was worth it.

He probably would have left you to simmer in your feelings if he hadn’t decided to play sad songs at home and cry in his room, which led to him flipping through old cards that he had received from you, leading to the (not-so-)brilliant idea to send you a love letter.

From a secret admirer, obviously, because if he put his own name, you would probably throw the entire envelope away before you read a word.

He sat by his desk for a good hour and a half, writing with a pencil and furiously erasing it when it sounded even the least bit like himself. Soon, his table was filled with eraser dust and the paper was marked with indents, and he finally settled on,

dearest y/n,

i think i like you. i’ve watched you for a while, and i want you to know you’re the most attractive person i’ve ever seen. meet me at the library, the middle row if you’d like to give me a chance? please?

- your secret admirer xx

The last line was a bit risky, since he knew you would recognise the way he signed off his texts, but it was still just ambiguous enough that any cheesy person could have written it.

He wasn’t good at changing his handwriting, but his hands were so sore from gripping the pencil tightly that he could rest assured you wouldn’t recognise it at all. The library’s inconspicuous, right? She’ll never suspect it’s me. I hope we’re far enough that Winwin and Kun don’t turn around to see us.

It haunted him throughout the night, the envelope sitting atop his table like a doll, watching him sleep and entering his dreams.

“A LOVE LETTER?”

You looked at it in surprise. It was plain, with the only indication of it being from a secret admirer the heart-shaped sticker used to seal it loosely. The cream paper felt thin, and was nothing extravagant. You were glad, at least it wasn’t blaringly obvious to anyone who passed by.

Hearing your words, Aeri was by your side in a flash. Renjun came over, eyes examining the envelope without a word.

“You got a love letter?” He asked. You frowned. Yes, you were surprised too, but why did he have to say it like he was shocked? Couldn’t you get love letters? After all, you were single now.

“I’m just saying,” Renjun said with a good-natured shrug. “I’ve seen Aeri get plenty of love letters even though we’re dating, but you’ve never gotten one before.”

“Well, times change.” You pried open the letter curiously, and scanned the contents quickly, trying not to raise your eyebrows too much.

Aeri snatched it from your hands, confused when you didn’t put up any resistance, frowning like you. Renjun peeked over her shoulder, nosily reading it as well.

“Wonder who it’s from,” Hyewon said suddenly. Your heart leapt in your chest, but you nodded and jerked your chin, asking her to read it as well to give her opinion.

“The handwriting looks familiar,” you muse, “but I can’t really put my finger on who it belongs to. Anyway, I’ll probably go, but just to reject them politely. I’m still… I think I’m still caught up in how Xiaojun makes me feel. I’m not really ready to move on yet, so I’ll probably think of some way to say that nicely.”

You have to give Renjun credit for not grimacing at what you’re saying, because usually if you talk too much about deep things, men tend to grow bored or cringe in embarrassment. Like you said, Renjun’s perfect and you hope Aeri treasures him.

You banish all thoughts of the letter to the back of your mind, that’s a problem for future you.

YOU’RE REHEARSING YOUR REJECTION SPEECH as you trudge towards the library, not dragging your feet but not particularly eager, either.

It’ll go something like: Sorry, I’m not interested. I understand that I’m available now that Xiaojun and I have broken up, but I don’t want you to be a rebound. (If it’s a sweet person that you know, you might tell them that they don’t deserve that.) I’m not ready for a relationship, and I won’t be able to commit to one in the near future. Please, leave me alone.

You’re also contemplating if it isn’t someone nice, and whether you’ll have to run if they get violent or if it’ll be fine since you’re in the library. What would the librarian be able to do, anyway?

The library seat (in the middle row) that the mysterious person had specified for the meeting point was empty, but you sat down anyway. You anxiously tapped your fingers against the table, drumming impatiently as you waited for said person to arrive.

You gave your surroundings a quick look, spotting Kun, Xiaojun’s friend, who smiled at you and waved. Sitting opposite him, clearly struggling, was Winwin, who looked up and tipped his chin in acknowledgement before biting his lip and going back to his work.

You were just about to get up and search for the person elsewhere, when somebody walked up to you, and Xiaojun took a seat opposite you.

your secret admirer, xx. dearest y/n. It struck you like a punch to your gut. It was an innocuous enough way to start a love letter and to end one, but it also screamed Xiaojun, after all that time he’d sent his texts to you, you couldn’t believe you hadn’t seen his fingerprints plastered all over it. Quite literally so, because he had probably handwritten it. That was why the handwriting looked so familiar!

You got up, ready to bolt, but his hand grabbed your wrist before you could go anywhere. “Please.”

It was soft, filled with so much desperation and pleading that your past self would not have been able to endure. You would have caved immediately, listening to every word of his and hanging on to his apology. You could never turn him down anyway.

But you’d had enough. You were sick and tired of walking this tightrope, dancing between your tears and his. It always felt like with Xiaojun, you were going head over heels, tumbling, unconsciously turning over and over again. Now, the slope was getting steeper, and you were falling so quickly both you and Xiaojun were going to get hurt.

“I’m not your toy, Xiao Dejun. I’ve had enough with you. Please, leave me alone. I don’t want to do this,” you whisper hoarsely.

“Before you go- at least tell me something. Just- just this one question.”

He hesitated for just a second, but you caught it. “Was I a bad person to you? I hope I wasn’t. But I guess I was.”

“I didn’t want to- I didn’t think I was good enough of a person. I felt like I didn't do enough to deserve you and I don't want you to end up the way hyewon did, with a person she loved but couldn’t treat her right.”

The old Xiaojun probably would have left the moment tears threatened to drop from your eyes in a public place, in the school library nonetheless, where many people knew him and you were supposed to maintain silence.

As flustered as he was, he still refused to leave you like that, fumbling through his pockets for something to help. Fortunately, he found a packet of tissue in his pocket and he offered it to you, relieved.

“Xiaojun, can you not do that?” You sniffled, pressing the tissue to your eyes and your leaky nose.

“Do what?” The gall! The audacity to sit there and look handsome and clueless and pretend like he didn’t know he was driving you mad. That was the reason that you couldn’t stand just being friends with him! Didn’t he get-

“That,” you said, gesturing to him vaguely. “The thing you do with your hair. And biting your lip. And turning your head so I’m forced to see that perfect, sharp jawline. And really just being in my presence.”

“Lovely to know I’m ruining your day,” he replied. He dropped his hand to his side and fished in his pocket for something, pulling out a clip and pinning his hair back so his fringe stopped flopping in his face.

You grinned half-heartedly at his response, happy with the dynamic you knew best.

“So, about that letter…”

“Don’t push your luck. We’ll… We could try,” you say. Before he can rejoice, you add, “No promises.”

“Trying’s good enough for me.”

#xiaojun #wayv #nctinc #k-labels #💌 — a love letter to your ex #nct #hendery #renjun #johnny #xiaojun x reader #nct fic #wayv x reader #🪁 — my works #kpop fics

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