#quit after freshman year maybe

[chompe-diem]

also ik some ppl are not the most pleased abt some consistency things like sklonda already being a practicing lawyer but tbh 1) we have no idea how long it takes in brennan's made up fantasy world how long it takes to become a lawyer and 2) it's been several real life years. it's been months since sophomore year but in real life it's been like 4 years. go off i get it king it's not a big deal

[mywritersmind]

OK PUT MY NUMBER. - LN4

summary : Based off the gilmore girls scene where Logan and his friends meet Rory at her dorm!! Hope you enjoy <3

listen up : no warnings!! lando!collegereader

word count : 1017

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Okay, Franco. Last building!” A man walks past me as I rearrange the items I'm attempting to carry without dropping. “Please say it looks familiar!”

I grab my coffee and stack of books, eyeing the group of boys who have strayed into the girls' dorms.

“Ahh!” One of the boys says, his eyes closed like he’s trying to manifest his way.

The tallest (and that’s not saying much) and tannest of the group groans, “Apparently it doesn’t seem familiar.” He’s got a thick accent, maybe spanish?

“Hold on!” The other boy with thick waves finally opens his eyes and says, “Hold. On. Yes! Here, this is where she lives!” And for the first time, me being quite nosy, it finally works out in my favor.

They go straight to my dorm. My single dorm.

“Excuse me, can I help you?” I walk closer to them, the one in the back has his hands lazily strewn in his pockets and walks straight past me with no answer.

“Hey!” I follow them to my door where the other two are writing on what looks like a crumpled piece of paper.

“Don’t put your number, Don’t put your number!” His accent surprises me but as I stare at the back of his curly hair, I scoff at me being ignored.

“I’m not putting my number, I’m putting your number!” His friend says, a twinkle in his green eyes

“That’s my room.” I speak up finally, the three turn harshly and eye me.

“Ok, put my number.” The curly haired one, british and ridiculously attractive, says as he smirks.

His eyes examine me as his friend groans, “Are you sure this is your room?”

I nod, “I’m sure.”

“I could have sworn it was her room!”

I balance my books, “What’s her name, maybe I know her.”

“It was uh…” he uses his hands to talk, “Short.”

I raise a brow, “Oh! I can understand your disappointment… losing a potential soulmate like that.” The cute one close to me laughs, “But that’s still my room.”

He motions to me, “I’m sorry about the mix up. It’s just- my friend Franco here needs to learn that Guineess and blondes don’t mix.”

“Redheads.” Franco corrects, “It doesn’t mix with redheads!”

He turns back to me, looking tired, “We sincerely apologize and will now leave you with your…” he eyes my books, “library?”

I frown as the other two run up the stairs, Franco saying his memory is coming back. I slip my key out of my pocket and start to open my door, “It’s called being a college student.” I sigh at the heaviness of my books, though most are for my own pleasure, “I’ll leave you to your friends.” I struggle with my key more, my cheeks getting warm because he’s just staring at me.

The man bites his lip, thinking for a moment, “Ah, they can manage.” Before I know it, his (huge) hands are taking my books from me. I eye him at first but then unlock my door with ease.

“Thanks.” I mumble and step inside, he follows after me and I don’t shut the door. He sets the books down on my table, his eyes darting around.

I watch him push up the sleeves to his blue long sleeve and take him in.

He’s got curls, a clean face, and a muscular build. He's not very tall but still looks down on me. The thing I can’t help but notice is his eyes clashing with his dark hair.

“I’m Lando!” He holds out his hand which I shake with a slightly confused expression, “Sorry again about my friends.”

“Y/n.” I smile politely, wishing I had cleaned up my place or something, “And don’t worry. They're funny.”

He rolls his eyes, “Franco and Carlos are definitely strong personalities!” I laugh, “We’re visiting Carlos’ sister. She’s a freshman…” he looks nervous saying the year, “Francesca.”

“Oh I'm not very clued into the freshman circle.” I shrug, “I’m a senior.”

“Oh shit- I just thought cause the dorm…” Lando shakes his head, “I should have noticed, you don’t look eighteen.”

I raise a brow, “Appreciate it…” He scratches the back of his neck and I laugh purely at the situation of this random British man in my room, “Uh- where do you go to school?”

“Oh I don’t!” He seems happy that I asked him something, “I’d be…” He counts on his fingers, “two years out anyway but I never went to uni. I work with those two muppets.”

“Oh!” I can’t help but mentally scream that he’s in my age range, “What do you do?”

Lando looks nervous again, his facial expressions are undeniably impossible to hide, “We drive.”

“Drive?” He nods, “Like a chauffeur?”

“There’s a car involved.” He holds back his smile as there’s booming footsteps and two heads pop into my room.

“Lando boy!” Carlos grins, “He thinks he remembers!”

Lando looks at me, looking regretful but still walks over to the open door, “See you around, Y/n.” He smiles and god I’ve never seen a smile like that. I feel my cheeks go pink, smiling softly and waving.

“Good luck.”

The door shuts a second later and I immediately bring my books to my makeshift bookshelf, trying to ignore the smile on my face.

I’m being ridiculous, I know I am. He’s older, British, and I will probably never see him again! But at least I can zone out in class about something.

I pull a hoodie over my head when I hear a knock at the door, “Coming!” I yell as I stumble over the clothes on my floor.

Except when I open the door, no one’s there.

I think it’s some bored frat boys until I go to close the door and see a yellow sticky note stuck to the wood.

I look around but there’s no cute man around. I shut the door, leaning against it and smiling down at the note, taking out my phone and typing in the number.

[kamiversee]

˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗

1 | Something about you

❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.

❧ Content | flirting, language, suggestiveness, fluff, & faint sexual tension.

❧ Word Count | 7.1k (we're starting off strong it seems...)

❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.

| Chapters mlist |

——Congratulations, you’ve nearly escaped hell— not-so-happily entering your final year of university as time stands currently. And y’know what, you think you’ve coasted through most of your college years drama-free. Well, aside from freshman year you suppose, everyone fucks up around that time…

But that’s a tale for another day, right now, you’re finding yourself waltzing into an entirely different plotline— with your head held high as you waltz toward a newfound cafe that you haven’t had the pleasure of finding for the past four years. Up until today, you’ve just barely been stomaching dining hall caffeine. Which, to say the least, isn’t nearly as savory or energizing as coffee from your local cafe. 

Four years you’ve been going to this school and yet here you were walking right into an establishment you swear simply spawned out of nowhere because you pass this street all the damn time and you don’t remember this place being here a week ago. Yet, when you enter the cafe and spot a sign that says they’ve been there for the past three years, you begin to realize that maybe you should start going out a bit more…

Nonetheless, you mentally claimed that if the coffee here was bad, you’d walk right out and return to never acknowledging the place. But hey, when you do push past those double doors, fingers wrapped around a warm metal handle, a waft of smoky coffee aromas simmering into your nose, and spot a rather attractive cashier first thing, you’re quick to tell yourself that maybe shitty coffee might be worth a few things.

Especially seeing as six staggering feet of height, fluffy bright white locks of hair, and the most dazzling set of blue eyes take notice of your entering seconds after you’ve stepped inside— how could you not tell yourself that terrible coffee may be worth digesting so long as you get to drink in this tall, fine man whose name you note as Gojo as you near him and read the tag on his apron.

“Suguru, it seems the gods have finally answered my prayers,” Gojo yells back to someone you can’t quite see yet. His eyes were all over you, drinking you in just as you were him. The tall man receives a laugh from somewhere further behind him before he redirects his words to you, “To what do I have the pleasure of serving you today, sweetheart?”

Your lips parted as you approached the counter fully, your eyes lingering on his far longer than they should’ve. “Uh,” And you were making a fool out of yourself already, great, “It’s my first time here, so I’m not too sure…” Okay, that’s a decent enough save considering how your words earn a half smile from the man in front of you who tilts his head and eyes you down.

And fuck if he wasn’t every bit of intimidating looking down at you like that. He places a single hand onto the counter space in front of him, leaning forward just a bit before turning his head back to take a glance at the menu hanging up, as if he didn’t have it memorized already, “Well, for first-timers I usually recommend anything but our coffee.”

You bat your lashes at the man for a moment as he returns his attention to you, “Seriously? That’s the one thing I came in here for…”

“Ah, well,” Gojo clicks his tongue and shrugs a bit, leaning toward you just to whisper, “Y’gotta come here when I’m in the back.”

You lean forward, intrigued by his words, “…Why?”

“Cause’ Suguru doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing,” Gojo chuckles a bit and you reciprocate before pushing your brows together questioningly. “Suguru, my best fr-, my coworker.” He clarifies quickly.

“Ohh,” You nod, “So should I come back another time, or…?”

“Nono, you caught me a few minutes before rush hour,” Gojo says rather cheerfully before he leans away from you and flashes a smile, “I can run back there ‘nd make ya’ somethin’ since we’re not too busy?”

At that, you take a moment to glance around the cafe interior, spotting one, maybe two people sitting on their laptops and languidly sipping or munching away at their breakfast. You’re glad you came in when you did.

Not only did you get the chance to talk to Gojo, who you turn back to seconds later with a nod, but you also got the chance to get not-so-shitty coffee according to the man. “Yeah, actually. That’d be nice,” You hum to him.

Gojo dramatically moves to stretch his arms, clasping his hands together before extending them out with a heavy sigh, as if he were preparing to do such a difficult task. “Alrighty then, is there any specific kinda coffee you’re lookin’ for?”

“Still my first time here, Gojo. So, no…” The way you say his name so suddenly has him wondering if you knew him from somewhere. But, you quickly smile a little and nod your chin to his name tag, to which he looks down and laughs at himself. “Surprise me,” You then say moments later.

“Surprise you?” Gojo echoes.

You shrug sheepishly, “If that’s not too much work for you-“

“No, I don’t mind. I can surprise ya’,” His smile at you deepens and you catch the slightest dip in his cheeks as the most enamoring set of dimples pops out to your gaze. “Buuut, before I do… Do you have any allergies or dislikes I should be wary of?”

You hum, “Uh, no I don’t think so? I’m feeling rather open-minded today so, just bring me something good enough to have me returning for more.”

“Yeah? I mean, I’m sure you’ll come back for somethin’ else aside from jus’ coffee,” Gojo laughs to himself at his own comment and your eyes simply widen, a cute lil’ tilt of your head catching his attention.

You chuckle nervously, “What else would I come back for if not coffee?”

He shrugs before slowly turning away, “Oh, I dunno… Perhaps a certain handsome cashier that’s caught your eye?”

Oh, you see where he’s going with this. It may have been a while but, you know what flirting looks like. “Is this handsome cashier in the room with us, or…?” You tease with a smile on your face, watching the way Gojo freezes and he sends you this look that you have to try your hardest not to laugh at.

He nearly pouts, “W-Well, yeah, obviously. You’re lookin’ at him.”

Your brows lift, “Am I?”

Gojo narrows those pretty blue eyes of his at you, “Do you not find me handsome?”

“Say I didn’t,” You murmur tauntingly, “Wouldn’t you be really embarrassed?”

The corner of his lips twitch before he scoffs playfully, “What are you, some kinda masochist?”

You giggle, “No, but seein’ that pout on your face was kinda cute.”

“Pout?” Gojo gasps dramatically, “Hah, what pout?” He scoffs again before straightening his face and attempting to be serious with you, “I didn’t pout-“

“You totally did,” You cut off, peering right into those mesmerizing eyes of his— damn, it was almost like you couldn’t get yourself to look away.

“I did not,” Gojo corrects your statement, lower lip poking out once more into a pout.

You shrug and finally get yourself to glance off to the side, “It was cute.”

He instantly tilts his head at that, ears perking up, “Y’think I’m cute?”

“I do.” You hum simply with your eyes wandering right back over to his face.

There’s this little moment between the two of you, a spark if you will, where you both just meet one another’s eyes and admire each other. Is this what mutual attraction feels like?

Perhaps if you squinted, you would’ve noticed the faintest shade of pink decorating his cheeks, “I-,” Gojo swallows suddenly, “Why thank you, sweetheart,” He utters suavely, as if to save himself from embarrassment. After which, he clears his throat, “That aside, we’ve got about six minutes before people start rushin’ in here ‘nd it’ll take two for me to prepare that coffee of yours so, do you mind givin’ me a name?”

You blink, “A name…?”

“Your name,” Gojo clarifies.

“Oh! Sorry,” You’re quick to apologize for your moment of daze, giving him your name seconds later to make up for it.

He starts to smile again, “That’s your name?”

“Yes?” You utter almost confusedly. Was there something wrong-

“It’s pretty,” Gojo interrupts your thoughts completely and your eyes go all wide all over again, a small feature in which he finds absolutely adorable.

“T-Thank you,” You stammer out, turning away to now avoid the eye contact you once couldn’t tear yourself away from.

“Uhuh,” His eyes scan you up and down once more before he sighs, “I’ll be back in a sec’, sweets,” Gojo says finally.

God, you think the nickname he threw out has your heart racing because it made your face so utterly hot. Almost as if you don’t hear nicknames like that on a daily basis…

Aside from that, you gave Gojo one last nod before looking back over your shoulder to see if anyone was coming yet. He’d told you that there was only a few minutes until rush hour so you were a bit wary that people would appear out of nowhere in the next-

“So you’re the girl that’s got Satoru all giggly, huh?” A voice purrs from somewhere in front of you.

Quickly, you return your gaze forward and spot a man, equally as tall as Gojo, with long dark hair, slim eyes, and a really pretty face— holy shit, how many hot guys work here??

“Uh,” You’re stuttering again, tipping your head to the side, “…Satoru?” You repeat, confused by the person he’s referring to.

The man chuckles, “Gojo,” He tells you, “Satoru Gojo,” You nod at the clarification and he grins warmly.

“Oh, then yeah I guess so,” You shrug sheepishly before flashing a smile, “So then that means you must be Suguru-“

“Geto,” He’s so quick to correct you that you almost immediately shut up, swallowing down your words as if you’d said something wrong. “Sorry, I assume Satoru told you my first name?”

You steadily nod, avoiding eye contact with him out of embarrassment, “He did…”

“As expected,” Geto hums before letting out a long sigh, “Just call me by me last, I don’t know you too well so I’m sure you understand.”

You hum, “Right, sorry.”

It’s a tad bit awkward for the next few seconds after that mild conversation but when you hear Gojo yelling from somewhere in the back, the awkwardness quickly subsides.

You even spot Gojo popping his head out from around the corner just to speak to his coworker, “Suguru don’t scare her off jus’ cause you have a girlfriend-“

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Geto interrupts, sharp with his correction as he glances back over his shoulder.

Gojo snorts, “Fine then, girl who’s a friend that you like-“

“I don't-,” A sigh leaves Geto’s lips before he’s moving to pinch the bridge of his nose, groaning afterward, “Just hurry up with the damn coffee before people start comin’ in.”

Your eyes somehow find Gojo’s and you watch him mouth out something to you, “He’s grouchy because his girlfriend’s ignorin’ him-“

“Satoru,” Geto says scoldingly, causing Gojo to flinch dramatically.

Then you see the white-haired man laugh before winking at you and dipping back around the corner. After which, you don’t even realize you’re smiling until you meet Geto’s gaze and feel your expression drop at the glare he’s giving you.

“What?” You murmur warrily, raising a brow at his plain look.

Geto tilts his head and studies your face for a mere moment, “You new around here or somethin’?”

“New to this cafe, yeah,” You explain, “Why?”

He shrugs, “I’ve learned most of our customer’s faces and majority of them live around the area but I’ve never seen you before.”

“I live not too far from campus but I wasn’t aware this cafe was here until today…” You explain steadily, earning somewhat of an intrigued expression from the man.

“Damn, really?”

You nod, “Mhm.”

“So, wait,” Geto scoffs a little at the thought, “Don’t tell me you’ve been stomaching dining hall caffeine all this time.”

You chuckle and glance off to the side, “Well…”

“If you live near campus, how the hell are you just now finding us??” Geto questions, he seems genuinely confused by your cluelessness.

Your shoulders lift into a shrug, “I don’t go out much.”

“Maybe you should,” He tells you.

A thin lipped smile tugs at your lips, “Starting to realize that now, thanks.”

The man opens his mouth to say something but he’s cut off by Gojo returning from the back and placing a hand on his shoulder, to which Geto glances down at.

“Alrighty Suguru, thanks for not scaring the pretty lady away!” Gojo says cheerfully as he pushes past his friend and makes eye contact with you.

Geto’s brows push together, “You’re welcome? I don’t know how I would’ve scared her, I-“

Gojo unintentionally cuts him off with a laugh, “You’ve been kinda grouchy towards women ever since you met-“

“Fuck off,” He grumbles, brushing off Gojo’s hand on his shoulder and turning to make his way to the back once more.

“See what I mean?” Gojo hums to himself.

Then Geto laughs, “You’re not a woman are you?”

“Suguruuu,” Gojo whines, turning his head back to his friend who’s already disappeared from his line of vision. Then, Gojo sighs and looks to you again, “Ah whatever, ignore him, he sucks sometimes.”

You grin, “You guys are best friends, aren’t you?”

The way Gojo tilts his head almost innocently is kinda cute, “How can you tell?”

“Mine acts similarly,” You explain, thinking of your best friend who’s not the nicest person in the world.

“Yeah?” Gojo hums, “An asshole once they get into a relationship?”

“I’m not in a relationship, Satoru!” Geto calls out from the back.

You watch as Gojo rolls his eyes at his friend's refutation of his claims. Looking somewhat off to the side, your thoughts wander more so toward your best friend, “Well, no, he’s kinda just an asshole all around.”

“Really? Why’re you his best friend then?” You’ve always found this question funny considering most people are confused about how you and your best friend are even friends when most times you two don’t get along.

Instead of really answering Gojo’s question, you look up at him and smile, “I could ask you the same thing, no?”

His brows furrow and he scoffs, “What? No, Suguru’s just grouchy today, I promise he’s usually better than that.”

You nod, “I see…”

“Anyway,” Gojo extends his hand out to you, “Here, give this a try,” He offers, handing a decently sized cold drink to you.

You receive the item and look down at it, “You’re not trying to poison me right?”

Gojo laughs, “Aaand why ever would I do that?”

The cup is steadily lifted to your lips as you lift your eyes to him once more, “I dunno, men are weird.”

“That they are,” He chuckles, “But no, that’d be illegal and I have no intentions of harming you.”

Again, you just nod at that and then take that first sip of the surprise drink he’d given you. A strong taste of vanilla and a nearly overwhelming amount of coffee creamer hits your tastebuds. You smile but you’re a bit taken back by how sweet it is. One, it’s way better than any cup of coffee you’ve ever had from the dining hall and two, it’s a lot sweeter than you were expecting.

“Holy fuck, how much sugar did you put in this thing?” You utter in surprise as you move the cup away from your mouth and glance at it as if that’ll give you the answer to your question.

Gojo lets out a laugh, “You said to surprise you.”

“Yeah but this is sweet as hell,” You tell him, your eyes raking over the cup in your hand.

“Sweet drink for a sweet girl, I don’t see a problem,” He responds with a little lean toward you.

“Right and-,” You scoff, eyes narrowing at the very lousy print of your name on the cup, “Who’s…” You almost laugh, “Christ, your handwriting is shit.”

Gojo lets out a huff, “Okay, first off, my handwriting is not that bad. And secondly-”

You’re quick to turn the cup to him and lift it, “Look at it!”

“Oh.” He squints his eyes at it, “Shit, that is kinda bad…” Gojo mumbles with an amused little smile on his face.

“Yeah, I can’t even read this…” You laugh, returning the cup to yourself, “But that’s okay, I appreciate the effort,” His smile grows at your comforting words as you then look up at him once more, “How much?”

“Since my handwriting’s so shit,” He starts, tilting his head at you and shrugging, “Consider it on the house.”

Your eyes seem to light up, “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” Gojo hums.

“Aw, thank you,” Who would you be to ever pass up something free? Especially given by this cheeky cashier before you.

“Anytime-”

Geto’s voice intrudes from the back, “Satoru I thought I told you to change these filters? And why’d you leave such a big mess, holy shit.”

Gojo yells back to his coworker, slightly looking over his shoulder, “The mess isn’t that bad is it?”

You snort, “If it’s anything like your handwriting then uh…”

“Alright,” Gojo’s quick to look at you once more, “You just got a free drink out of me so I don’t wanna hear anything from you.”

“Satoru, these filters aren’t gonna change themselves,” Geto nags further.

You watch as Gojo rolls his eyes and yells back to his friend yet again, “You’re literally back there already, change them yourself.”

“Nope, it’s your turn,” Geto argues.

Gojo frowns, “But-”

“The girl’s not goin’ anywhere anytime soon,” At that, you blink in surprise. How does he know you’re not ready to leave just yet? “Get your ass back here,” Geto orders.

Gojo turns his head and looks at you almost pleadingly.

You giggle, “What? Sounds like you’ve got some filters to change, Gojo…”

“Y’know what,” He scoffs and nods his chin to the cup in your hand, “$5.45.”

Your head cocks back a little and your brows go up, “I’m sorry?”

“The drink,” Gojo hums simply, looking back to make sure Geto wasn’t on his way out to scold him some more just yet, “Since you wanna take his side over mine…”

The way you frown misses Gojo’s eyes up until he turns to look at you one last time, his eyes going wide as you try to defend yourself, “I wasn’t-”

“S’fine, I got it,” An entirely different voice grumbles from your right, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. So close to you, an arm slips right past your face and you watch as an all too familiar man extends a card out to Gojo.

Your lashes bat a few times as an annoyingly familiar scent of cologne rushes into your nose. You’d literally just escaped said smell a few hours ago after leaving your apartment and yet here it was all over again, directly in your nose and you met the side profile of your best friend, “Choso?” You utter.

Whatever light and fluffy banter that was in the air seconds ago seems to die at the mere presence of Choso standing so closely beside you. Ignoring you, he urges Gojo to take his card and Gojo soon does so with a scoff— he was going to keep flirting and teasing you but here comes this all-too-serious-looking man taking your vacant side as if it were second nature.

The smile Gojo once had on his face simmered down and his expression became a lot more neutral as he quietly moved to charge Choso’s card.

After which, your best friend finally looks down at you, his eyes pointed in a glare that would make anyone feel unloved despite you knowing he feels quite the opposite (to some extent at least), “Don’t you have class in an hour?” Choso asks you in a dull monotone.

Your face scrunches up slightly before you shrug, “I was thirsty…”

Choso stares at you for a long moment, glances at Gojo, then back to you with a scoff, “Yeah, clearly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean-,” You’re cut off by Choso taking his eyes off of you and receiving his card back from Gojo, the two men making eye contact once more and both looking as if the other had done something to offend them. Your best friend openly scoffs in Gojo’s face before pocketing his card and turning away, quickly walking out of the establishment.

Your eyes go wide, “Choso, wait!” You call out as your eyes followed him walking away from you. Only to be ignored again, you let out a huff and start to walk after him but turn back to Gojo one last time, “Sorry about him.”

Gojo’s expression seems to light back up a bit and he shrugs, “You’re fine.”

You nod and start turning away before remembering something and looking at Gojo yet again, slightly pointing at him, “You owe me a free drink by the way,” You remind him playfully.

His face is twisting right back up into that intrigued expression from earlier, “Do I now? And what for?”

“Your shitty handwriting of course,” You hum.

"Hm," He takes a second to think before letting out a slight huff. You then feel and watch the way his eyes glide up and down your body before he responds to you, "Alright."

And with that, both of you smile at one another one last time before you go running off to catch up with Choso. Gojo watches you almost in some kinda trance as you leave, spotting more customers approaching but ignoring them for the most part as his gaze remains glued to you until you’re completely out of his line of vision.

Then, he lets out this breathy little sigh, “Fuck…” Moving to wipe his face off as if that’ll rid himself of whatever the hell he’s feeling after talking to you. 

He didn’t even get to ask you for your number like he wanted to…

With perfect timing, “Satoru, the-”

“Filters, yeah yeah, I got it,” Gojo cuts Geto off completely, turning around to see his friend emerging from the back as they both swap places due to the approaching rush hour.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

Outside, you were met with a slap of heat as soon as you exited the cafe, your eyes searching the area for Choso. A slight breeze of refreshing wind brushes over your skin as you finally spot the man having not gotten too far away.

Barely managing to catch up to him, you nudge Choso on his arm as soon as you meet his side, “Why’d you pay for my drink? I could’ve done that myself.”

Just as he did earlier inside the cafe, he acts as though you’re not even there, keeping his gaze forward and pretending he didn’t hear a single thing you just said.

“Choso? Hello??” You huff out, nudging him on his arm again.

His lip twitches into a scowl and he just barely side-eyes you, “What?”

You ignore all of his attitude, as you typically do, “Why’d you pay?”

“You’re a walking charity case,” Choso hums all too casually.

Your head goes back and you scoff, “I-, what? No, I’m not!” Then the back of your hand is landing on his arm as you hit him and he almost smiles.

Finding amusement in your reaction, he shrugs, “Yeah you are,” And before you can even try to get a response out, the cup of coffee in your hand is stripped from your grasp faster than you could blink. Choso removes the top and takes a sip, “Ew, you like this shit?” He scowls, placing the top right back on and handing you your drink back.

You blink, struggling to process a logical reasoning behind his action, “First off, no one told your ass to take a sip. And secondly-”

“I wanted to know what you got,” Choso cuts off, glancing at you to watch how quickly you get annoyed by him.

You groan, “You could’ve asked if that was the case.” He shrugs your words off and you roll your eyes at him, “And how the hell did you know I was in there anyway?”

“I didn’t,” Choso tells you, “I always go in there but today I happened to see your short ass at the counter when I walked in.”

You’re quick to shoot him a glare, “Stop that, I’m not short.”

He’s got this arrogant little grin on his face, “Look short t’me.”

“That’s because you’re taller than me, which doesn’t make you tall in general nor does it make me short.” You explain to the man simply with your eyes shooting daggers into the side of his face.

Choso continues to act as though you’re not even looking at him, “Being shorter than me makes you short-”

“And y’know what,” You cut off, tearing your eyes off of your overly bothersome friend, “You’re annoying.”

He cocks his head back, “Annoying? I’m annoying?” Finally, he looks at you, now searching the side of your face for answers.

“Yeah, very.” You hum.

Choso scoffs and then sizes you up and down, “Says the one who was gawkin’ over Gojo Satoru of all people.”

You nearly laugh, “Fucks’ that supposed to mean? How would that make me annoying?”

“He’s a weirdo,” Choso shrugs, pocketing his hands as he faces forward once more, “I can’t understand what you could possibly find attractive about him.”

You blink and both of you slow down in the pace of your steps, “I talked to him for less than ten minutes, how was I supposed to know he’s weird. And wait-, how does me finding him attractive even annoy you?”

Your best friend sighs and his words come out all too casually for them to be so offensive, “Cause when he breaks your heart,” Choso looks at you, “You’ll come bitchin’ to me about it.”

At that, you freeze, quickly turning to meet his gaze, “Who says he’ll break my heart? And bitching? Is that what you call me talking to you about my relationship issues?? Bitching? Seriously?” With your eyes narrowed and brows tightly knit together, Choso should’ve sensed that he struck a nerve there.

Yet, he seems to not care in the slightest, blinking as if he’d said nothing wrong, “Fuck else am I supposed to call it? I warn you about every guy you date but you don’t ever listen to me.”

Your face twists up, “That doesn’t make my complaints ‘bitching’…”

“Well, it makes it fucking annoying,” He hums before pulling his lips into a thin smile— mocking you through facial expressions.

Your brows go up, “Really? Okay then, sorry for ever confiding in you,” You set your eyes straight once more, “I’ll just go find someone else to-”

“You know no one else is gonna put up with your shit the same way I do,” He’s so quick to dismiss your little statement, almost as if the implication of you ever leaving him, in a sense, bothered him.

You scoff matter-of-factly, “That’s not true.”

“It literally is though,” Choso deadpans, “You have one friend and that’s me. Who the hell else are you gonna go rant to, hm?”

“Someone that doesn’t call my rants bitching.” You huff, crossing your arms over one another.

Choso scales his eyes down to your arms and he smiles, “Are you seriously mad about that?”

“Maybe,” You shrug.

His feet come to a stop and you follow suit, turning to avoid his eyes as much as possible. Choso stares at you for a moment before leaning toward you, tilting his head and angling his lips toward your ear.

All of which done so he could whisper to you, “M’sorry, princess,” Choso murmurs to you affectionately, “Y’know I didn’t mean that seriously, I’m jus’ fuckin’ with you.”

You remain unphased for a mere moment more before the constant brush of his breath against your skin makes you shudder, your hands moving to his chest to push him away, “Yeah, whatever… And stop calling me that.”

Choso blinks, feeling confused since you act as if he hadn’t been calling you such a thing for years, “Why?”

“Cause I don’t like it…” You so clearly lie— not that you enjoyed the nickname but more so that you’ve always felt indifferent to it. Or, almost always.

He smirks, “Your face is telling me an entirely different story.”

“Yeah?” You chuckle, moving to shoot your middle finger at him, “And what story does this tell you?’

Choso stares into your eyes for a long period of time before looking to your finger, smiling fully and tilting his head again, “…You wanna fuck me?”

Immediately putting your finger down, your brows tense, “What? No!” You exclaim, groaning as you return to your walking, “God, I cannot stand you.”

He laughs and follows right alongside you, “You’re so easy to annoy, holy shit.”

“And you’re insufferable,” You huff.

Choso shrugs simply, “You love me though.”

You glance at him, “Debatable.”

He pouts and pretends to clutch his heart, “Ouch-”

“Anyway,” Returning your attention to someone much less annoying than the man beside you, you nod your head back toward the cafe, “Do you know if he’s single?”

Choso nearly trips over his steps at the sound of that, letting out a cough, “Who-, Gojo??”

You nod, “Mhm.”

“Why?” Choso’s lips twitch, “You lookin’ to get rejected?”

Pausing, you look to him with a quirked brow, “Excuse me? What makes you think I’ll get rejected?”

“You’re uh…” He trails off a little, eyes lingering down your frame before he smiles and speaks to you in this faux gentle whisper, “Not his type, sweetie.”

Your eyes roll at that, “Okay, first of all, fuck you. Secondly, how do you know?”

“Uh, I’ve seen the kinda girls he’s into so trust me when I say…” Choso’s eyes shift to peer directly into yours, “It ain’t you.”

You stare back for a moment before shaking your head and looking off, “Whatever, you’re just saying that.”

“Yeah because I’m gonna lie to you about something like that,” He snickers to himself before rolling his eyes. Within seconds, he goes to look at you again only to see you heading in a different direction, “Hey! Where’re you goin’?”

“Away from you!” You call back.

He laughs yet again, “What, you can’t handle the truth now?”

Glancing back to him, “I’m gonna prove you wrong asshole.”

Choso flashes you a shit-eating grin as if he’s already begun praying on your downfall, “Sure you will.”

He then watches as you further away from him, his smile steadily fading as he catches himself a bit too happy at the sight of you so determined. Choso shrugs off whatever feeling the topic of Gojo Satoru had brought up within him, dismissing the entire thing as he truly believed you’d never really get yourself too involved with that guy.

Unfortunately for him, he didn’t see the way you were taking to Gojo before he walked in so, Choso had no idea of how things were about to play out within the next few hours.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

As such, after that morning class of yours that extended decently into the afternoon, you found yourself rushing back to the cafe as soon as you could.

You knew not of Gojo’s working hours so you had no clue whether or not he’d still be there but you sure as hell hoped so. Choso had really ticked you off with his claims.

You not being Gojo’s type? Yeah right, he didn’t see the way that cashier was looking at you, nor did he hear all the banter that took place. Given that, you were determined to prove your dear friend wrong and yourself right. You know flirting when you see it and that’s exactly what Gojo was doing.

So to say he wasn’t at least intrigued by you would be a blatant lie you had every hope on exposing to Choso.

When you finally find yourself entering that lovely little cafe, it’s a lot more busy in comparison to earlier— something you take note of for your possible future visits. The line wasn’t exactly too long but quite a few people were hanging out or studying throughout the establishment.

That aside, your eyes were quick to search for a certain white-haired barista, gaze lighting up the very second it meets the man it questions. 

Gojo had a weary smile on his face as he handed some girl a coffee and you could tell based on his eyes alone that he was tired of the chick rambling to him. He nodded and nodded, trying to keep himself appearing entertained by whatever she was saying but when he glances over and spots you, all his attention is diverted.

Those pretty blue eyes of his fixate on you and you watch as he finally dismisses the girl, nodding toward you as if to say he had another customer to tend to. She shrugs and finally leaves, to which you take place in standing where she’d been seconds ago, sending a smile to Gojo.

“Long day?” You suggest with a slight tilt of your head, to which he nods.

“You have no idea,” Gojo sighs out to you, “You’re back sooner than I expected though.”

He didn’t know what it was about you, perhaps the way you gaze at him, but there was something that kept his eyes lingering on yours far longer than normal— something that genuinely lulled him in. Perhaps it was the natural flow of conversation and how even from earlier, you didn’t really feel like a mere customer but instead just a person, a woman at that-, a very pretty woman, might he add.

“You owe me a free drink, remember?” You remind him, earning a different reaction than expected.

Gojo pauses, “Ohh… About that…” He hums, moving to scratch the back of his neck, “Yeah see, that offer no longer stands…”

You blink, “I’m not sure I understand…”

He lets out a sigh, then moves to lean forward against the counter, bending down and crossing his arms as he rests on his elbows and comes much closer to your eye level, “Another cute girl came in ‘nd got it before you,” Gojo whispers.

You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not and your brows pinch together, “Seriously?”

“Mmhmm,” He hums tauntingly with this smug look on his face as if to say giving away your promised drink was to get back at you for something.

“Well,” You click your tongue, “I think you owe me a free drink now more than before, maybe two.”

Gojo smiles, feeling amused, “Yeah? I mean, my number’s free. Y’want that instead?”

Your voice gets caught in your throat at how ridiculously smooth that was, trying your hardest not to give in and return a smile. “I… What am I supposed to do with that?” You end up asking.

He snickers, “Perhaps text me? Or call? Y’know, the thing you do with phones-“

“Alright smart ass,” You scoff playfully, grinning as you move to pull out your phone, “What’s your number then?”

Gojo smiles triumphantly and extends his hand out, “Here, lemme put it in for ya’.”

You glance at him, eyes meeting and yet another moment passing before you hand him your phone, to which he takes a second to look down at the device in his hands. Then, he enters his number and a contact name for himself.

After which, your cell is quickly returned to you and you look to see what he’s put in. Studying the name closely, you tilt your head, “Satoru?”

“Mhm, tha’s me, sweetheart,” He purrs, moving to rest his cheek against his knuckles.

You look up from your phone, “You want me to call you Satoru?”

Gojo shrugs, “If you don’t mind, yeah.”

“We’re on a first-name basis already?” You tease, eyes narrowing at the man.

“It seems we are,” He utters. His voice was a bit lower with you now, much more casual and playful. “That alright with you, pretty girl?”

Unknowingly, your face flushes, “Yeah, that’s uh, that’s fine.”

Gojo lets out a hum, “Good.” Then, the two of you do that thing yet again, peering into one another's eyes, unmoving, nearly frozen and dazed for a moment longer than intended before Gojo snaps out of it by almost awkwardly clearing his throat, “So uh, you still want that free drink or…?”

You blink out of your own stupor and shake your head, “No, I’ll come back for it tomorrow.”

“Oh?” His brows shoot up in surprise, “You’re coming back tomorrow?”

“It seems I am, yes,” A smile graces your face and he can’t help but stare.

Gojo mirrors your expression, “Just for coffee?”

Your eyes wander off to the side cheekily, “Perhaps for a certain handsome cashier too…”

He thinks his heart is fluttering. Is this normal? To experience such a genuine infatuation with a woman’s words within less than twenty-four hours? It was unusual for Gojo, that’s for damn sure. Hence why his head is tipping to the side, “Really? Have my charms worked so soon?” He teases.

You return your gaze to him, “Just a little, yeah.”

Mesmerized by you, Gojo nods, “Good to know.”

“Mhm,” After a slight hum, you glance down at your phone and check the time, “Well uh, I actually have another class so I should probably go.”

“Yes… Yes, you should,” He voices out slowly, again entangled into that daze of his until you lift your head once more, “But uh, make sure you text me later, yeah?” Gojo reminds you.

To which you chuckle and start turning away toward the exit, “No promises.”

He’s left in a mere awe of you, not even knowing what to say, and left utterly speechless from such an intriguing yet simple conversation with you. As you wave bye, Gojo had to feel for his heart the very second you leave just to see if it was working correctly because he’s not sure what the hell that was just now.

Whatever it may have been, he knows it was much more genuine and raw than what he’s typically used to. And it came so naturally too, the banter, the gazes, the flirting… Gojo was longing for more already and he’d only just met you a few hours ago.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

All the while you’re just as cheerful at the interaction you just had, beyond ready to brag to your doubtful best friend of your most recent accomplishments.

Which is exactly why you’re facetiming said friend as soon as you leave the cafe. The call rings for less than a second before it’s answered and you’re met with a visibly displayed and… shirtless Choso.

Before you get the chance to even try and take in his naked torso, he’s already scowling at you, “The fuck are you facetiming me for?” He grumbles, taking the smile right off of your lips, “I’ve seen your face enough for one day. Why don’t you ever call like a normal person??”

You bat your eyelashes at the man, “Cho, we just got on the phone and you’re already souring the mood…”

He ignores your complaint, “What do you want?”

Steadily, your smile returns, “Guess who got a certain someone’s number,” You utter cheerfully, voice light in a little sing-song tone.

Choso gives his phone a blank stare, not saying a single word in response to that.

Which confused you, “Well? Are you gonna guess-“

“You could’ve texted me this shit,” He cuts off before you watch as your screen is soon met with the ceiling as he places his phone down.

You pout, “Well, yeah but then I wouldn’t have been able to see your reaction…”

He scoffs and pops his face into the camera for a second, eyes dull, smile nonexistent, eye bags heavy, and tattoo running across his nose the only thing giving some form of expression despite it being nothing more than a dark black line. “Does it look like I give two shits about you gettin’ some asshole’s number?”

You let out a long sigh, “Remind me why we’re friends again?”

And that’s when Choso seems to smirk, “Cause’ you won’t leave me alone.”

“I’m hanging up,” You groan.

His laughter, albeit somewhat of a rare sound, fills your ears, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”

You send him a look, “Are you?”

“Mhm, good job on gettin’ his number, princess,” Choso coos, making your eyes widen, “I’m proud of you.”

Your mouth opens to say something to that but your throat runs oddly dry. Instead, you gulp down his sudden praise and ignore how warm his words make you feel. “…Thank you.” You eventually say.

“Uhuh,” Choso nods before removing himself from the camera again, “Pretty sure he’s just trying to fuck though.” He says bluntly.

Instead of choking like he expected you to, you only scoff, “Fine by me.”

Your best friend is quiet for a moment, feeling almost silenced before he sighs, “Oh… But you told me no-“

“That was entirely different, Choso.” You cut off.

He shuts up again.

“You were drunk, and…” Your voice dies out.

To which he raises a brow at his phone, “And what?”

“And things were different back then,” You sigh, trying not to recall the entirety of your past with Choso at the present moment, “…You were an even bigger asshole, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Choso sighs, moving to dismiss the topic, “Anyway, let me know how things go with your new albino boyfriend.”

You scoff, smiling at the suggestion itself, “He’s not even my-“ 

The call disconnects. Oh how you just love your best friend and his antics. You wouldn’t trade your friendship with him for anything.

Or at least, that’s what you told yourself anyway. What exactly does a new man in your life bring if not drama? This right here was but the beginning of a very interesting journey toward such a fickle emotion we know as; love.

mlist | next chapter |

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[hoshifighting]

i'm BEGGING for a collegefling! jeonghan plzz

thank youuuu 💗 love your work <33

warnings: smut, teasing, flirting, fingering, penetrative sex, cock riding, semi-public sex, library sex, loud!jeonghan, jealousy, he's such a cutie too.

college fling!jeonghan who's not the type to play around with mixed signals. if he wants something, he’s pretty direct about it. likes games—just not the confusing kind. so, yeah, when you first met him, you kind of got what he was about from day one. freshman year was chaos. the university’s big events had everyone talking—water games, shirtless dudes, bikinis, everyone all bronzed and glowing under the sun. but jeonghan— he’s not about the whole "show off my body" thing. kept his shirt on, like he didn’t need to prove a damn thing. confident as hell, and you hated how much that got to you.

he was the one who came up to you first, of course. said something like, “my friend thinks you’re pretty.” such a casual opener, like it was no big deal. but then he took it further, all smooth with a teasing smile. “but i don’t really trust his taste, so i had to see for myself.”

you remember just rolling your eyes, thinking, this guy—but also trying not to let on that his vibe was doing things to your brain. when he went on to say, “so, are we making out now, or later?”—you laughed in his face, hard. hard as fuck, actually, and told him straight up that wasn’t happening, and his response? a smirk. that smirk that would become the smirk, the one you'd start seeing every time he spotted you from across campus, during parties, even in the quiet corner of the library when you thought you were safe.

after that day, it was like this... game, but not really a game. like, you’d be minding your business, trying to get through your classes, and boom—jeonghan would be there, casually sliding in with some flirty comment, always teetering on the line of too much. but never quite crossing it. like one time, you were sitting with your laptop, probably stressed over a deadline, and he just popped up with, “you look like you could use a distraction.” you shot back, “don’t you have someone else to annoy?” and of course, he answered, “nah, i’m committed to you.” committed. like it wasn’t just a stupid flirty thing.

and it kept going. year after year. no kissing, no hooking up—just this ridiculous back-and-forth, every time he saw you, making your stomach twist up in knots. it was frustrating as hell, ‘cause even though he flirted like it was second nature, he never actually pushed you to do anything more. he knew the game. he knew exactly how far to take it before pulling back, leaving you wanting more but hating that you even did.

one night, you were at some random house party, loud music, too many people, and of course, there he was. leaning against the kitchen counter, looking all too comfortable in a place that was way too crowded. he saw you first, waved you over with that lazy smile that you wanted to ignore but couldn’t. “you lost or just looking for me?” he asked, knowing damn well you weren’t looking for him.

“neither,” you lied, grabbing a drink from the counter just to have something to hold. but he wasn’t buying it, stepping a little closer, crowding your space just enough to make your breath catch.

“right,” he said, that teasing lilt in his voice. “so you’re not here just to finally kiss me?”

you laughed again, but this time, it didn’t feel as easy. “jeonghan, you’ve been trying for years. give it up.”

“noo sweetheart,” he pouted, voice smooth like honey. “i’m just playing the long game. i like it..”

the long game. because even though you never kissed, never took it past flirting, there was always this tension, simmering just below the surface. you’d catch yourself thinking about him sometimes when you weren’t even around him—wondering if he ever thought about you the same way.

but he never made it weird. never tried to make you feel like you owed him anything, which was maybe why you didn’t hate him for it. because at the end of the day, it was fun. infuriating, yes. but fun. he’d make a comment, you’d brush it off, but deep down? yeah, there was always a part of you that kinda wanted to see what would happen if you let the game go on a little longer.

and jeonghan... he was patient. too patient, if you were being honest.

there was something stupidly comforting about jeonghan always being around. like, even on your worst days—those days when you couldn’t even be bothered to try. oversized hoodie, messy hair, not a scrap of makeup. you were barely surviving, and there he was, still managing to make you feel noticed. he’d walk up, casual as hell, and say things like, “your hair smells nice today,” or he’d reach out, fingers grazing your hand, just to say, “new nails? they look cute.”

and then there was that one time, oh god—you remember it clear as day. you’d barely rolled out of bed and showed up to class, hoodie pulled tight around you, and jeonghan slides up beside you at the cantine, glancing down at your hand. “you know what would look cute wrapped in there?” he’d said, all casual. and for a split second, you didn’t catch on. you were about to ask what he meant, then it hit you—cock. he meant cock.

you felt your face heat up, your brain misfiring as you shot him a look, trying to figure out if anyone else had heard. your eyes scanned the tables, praying no one else had clocked his little comment, and when you finally turned back to him, there he was—smiling like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “what?” he asked, all fake innocence, like you hadn’t just caught onto his bullshit. “i was talking about the energy drink can.” and he pointed at the one in your hand, the one you had just bought. “it matches your nails.”

you laughed. you couldn’t help it. he had this way of making everything lighter, even when you were convinced it was gonna be a trash day. and he smiled too, like your happiness was his mission for the day. it was always like that. jeonghan would flirt, you’d roll your eyes or laugh, and things would feel a little easier. it was comfortable. safe, even.

but then… spring party. fuck.

there was something so painfully uncomfortable about seeing him with her. it wasn’t even the fact that they were together—it was the way he smiled at her. the way his arm was casually around her shoulders, pulling her closer, and then the cheek kiss. you saw it, and it felt like something lodged itself in your chest. like, what the hell.

it hit you like a ton of bricks. you liked the game too much. you liked him too much, but you hadn’t taken the shot. you never thought it was serious enough to matter, but seeing him with someone else? it felt like you were watching something that should’ve been yours. the whole night was a blur after that. no amount of party energy could bring you back up after seeing that.

you left early. didn’t even bother sticking around when the lights got lower, the music got louder, and everyone else started to get more and more drunk. you just… left. walked back to your dorm, the sound of your flower crown jingling a little with each step, the one your friends had insisted you wear. it felt stupid now. why the hell did you even care?

and then, as if the universe had it out for you, you saw him. just walking out of the dorms. not just any dorms. the dorms. the girls’ dorms. and you knew. of course it was her. she was in there, probably waving him off after some perfect little goodnight, and here you were, walking around with jealousy you didn’t even want to admit you had.

he saw you before you could duck away. smiled at you like nothing was weird, like you hadn’t seen him with her just hours before. “mhmmm... who’s this princess, huh?” he wolf-whistled, because of course, of course, he would. his eyes twinkled when they landed on your flower crown, clearly amused.

you weren’t. “fuck off, jeonghan,” you muttered, trying to brush past him. but you knew it. he heard it. he caught the tone immediately because even when he got on your nerves before, you were never this cold.

“whoa, whoa,” he called after you, stepping in your path with that all-too-familiar smirk, though now it felt different. heavier. “where’s this coming from? what happened? don’t tell me the princess has had a rough night?”

“i’m not in the mood,” you snapped, making a beeline for your dorm. but he wasn’t letting it go. he blocked your way again, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes studying you like he was figuring out some kind of puzzle. you saw his eyes lighting up.

“wait a minute… are you jealous?”

the way he said it, like he was genuinely surprised and also deeply entertained by the thought. you didn’t even want to give him the satisfaction of looking at him, but your eyes flicked up anyway, glaring.

“you’re ridiculous.”

“i’m ridiculous?” he laughed, stepping a little closer. “so you saw me with her, huh?” he teased, and you could see the moment he clicked it all together. “oh my god. you are jealous.”

“shut up, jeonghan.”

but he didn’t. he was full-on laughing now, not even trying to hide how amused he was by the whole thing. “okay, okay. listen, that was my sister, y/n.”

you blinked. “what?”

he wiped at his eyes, still chuckling. “my sister. we had a family thing tonight, and she was visiting the campus for the spring party. she’s staying over, that’s why i was in the girls' dorms.”

you felt the embarrassment hit you like a wave. like, of course, you’d worked yourself up into a jealous mess over nothing. but still, the way he was looking at you, the way his laughter softened when he saw your expression change—it wasn’t like he was making fun of you. if anything, he looked… kinda pleased.

“you really thought i’d ditch you for someone else?” he asked, scrunching his nose. “after all these years?”

you wanted to hit him. and also kiss him. but mostly hit him. “shut up,” you mumbled, shoving past him to finally get to your door.

but as you fumbled with your keys, you heard him laugh again, this time lighter. “you know, if you want to kiss me that badly, you could just ask.”

"just ask?" you placed a hand on your hip, raising an eyebrow at him like you were calling his bluff. jeonghan just nodded, all nonchalant, like this wasn’t the moment of his life.

you took a step closer, the space between you two disappearing until your noses were nearly touching. you could see the way his eyes flickered from yours to your lips and back up, like he was trying to stay cool, but you knew better. underneath all that fake calm, he was freaking out.

you just smiled. you leaned in, just close enough for him to feel your breath on his lips, and whispered, “good night, jeonghan.”

you pulled back, turning on your heel, leaving him standing there. you didn’t need to look back to know the effect you had. you could feel the tension in the air, the way his posture faltered just slightly. when you reached your door, you glanced over your shoulder, catching his eyes one last time before you disappeared inside. he was still watching, a grin playing on his lips. as you leaned against the door inside, hand over your racing heart, you couldn’t help but smile too.

a few days later, you were at the library. it was one of those late afternoons where the campus was almost eerily quiet. most people were either at the football field, hanging out on the green, or already done for the day. you’d volunteered for this stupid school board vote thing, which meant you were stuck painting posters on cardboard, your hands covered in smudges of red and blue paint.

the library had this dim, cozy lighting, the blinds half-drawn so the soft glow of sunset was creeping in from the windows. but the table you were sitting at had this one bright, focused yellow lamp, shining right on your work as you dragged the wet paintbrush across the poster.

you were in your own world, humming softly, when you suddenly felt something… someone close. too close. a soft breath ghosted over your ear, so light you almost thought you were imagining it.

“boo!” a voice whispered, low and teasing, right by your ear.

you flinched hard, tensing up, your whole body jerking back so fast the paintbrush slipped in your hand. and of course, it was him. jeonghan stood there, barely an inch away, grinning like the asshole he was. his hands were shoved deep in his pockets, like he was trying to stop himself from reaching out and touching you.

“what the fuck,” you muttered, heart still racing from the scare, eyes glaring up at him. but he was having the time of his life, watching the way your body reacted, still all wound up.

“shhh,” he whispered, stepping even closer, his lips nearly brushing your ear this time. “we’re in a library.” the fake seriousness in his voice almost made you laugh, but you were too annoyed to let him win that easily.

“do you ever chill?” you asked, leaning back in your chair to give yourself a little space, but jeonghan wasn’t having it. he leaned down, resting his arms on the back of your chair like he was claiming it—and you.

“why would i, when scaring you is so much fun?” he shot back, his grin widening.

your heart was still pounding from the surprise, and now from him being so damn close, but you rolled your eyes, trying to act like you weren’t affected. “you’re annoying.”

“you love it,” he whispered, the teasing edge in his voice making you want to scream. but instead, you reached for your paintbrush again, ignoring him, or at least trying to. jeonghan, though, wasn’t going anywhere. he hovered over you, eyes scanning the half-finished poster on the table.

“what’s this?” he asked, gesturing to your work. “you painting a masterpiece?”

“just posters,” you mumbled, trying to focus on the brush strokes. but you could feel him there, his eyes practically burning into your skin. you hated how aware you were of him, of his warmth, of the way his breath still lingered on your ear.

“hmm,” he hummed, leaning a little closer again, his cheek almost brushing yours as he pretended to inspect the cardboard. “you missed a spot.”

“jeonghan,” you warned, glancing up at him through narrowed eyes. but all he did was flash you that familiar, maddening smirk.

“what? just trying to help.” he finally pulled back, standing up straight again, but not before letting his fingers brush lightly against your arm, just enough to send a spark through you.

you cursed under your breath, trying to focus on your work, but it was useless. his stupid little whisper and the way he hovered over you had already ruined any chance of concentration.

“you know,” he said casually, pulling out a chair next to you and sitting down like he had nowhere else to be. “you’re fun to mess with.”

“can you shut up for like, two seconds?” you shot at him, your voice carrying more frustration than you meant.

instead of taking the hint, he just wriggled his eyebrows at you, that shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. he never stops. you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to gather your thoughts, but the annoyance, the tension—it all bubbled up inside you, and before you could overthink it, you opened your eyes and leaned in, kissing him.

just a quick peck, a little “shut the hell up” moment, nothing more. but the second you pulled back and caught the look on his face, you almost regretted it. almost. jeonghan was stunned. like, full-on wide-eyed, frozen in place, like he couldn’t believe what just happened.

your cheeks immediately burned, but you kept your cool, clearing your throat before going back to the poster like nothing happened. “sit down and be quiet now,” you muttered, keeping your eyes on the cardboard.

for once, he actually listened. he sat down next to you, still staring, clearly trying to process what you just did. the silence that followed was awkward as hell, but it didn’t last long. because, of course, it didn’t.

he lasted about five seconds, max. then you felt his hand on your cheek, turning your face towards him. before you could react, his lips were on yours again, but this time, he didn’t hold back. it wasn’t some quick, shy kiss. no. his lips moved against yours, hungry, and then you felt it—his tongue pushing past your lips, invading your mouth like he had no patience left.

his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and before you knew it, you were completely lost in him. your body responded faster than your brain could keep up with, your hand instinctively reaching out to grab the edge of the table to steady yourself.

when he pulled back, just slightly, his breath was ragged, his lips hovering over yours as he whispered, “can i?” the neediness in his voice sent a jolt of heat straight through you.

you nodded, not trusting your voice. and that’s all he needed. his hand slipped down, fingers tracing the hem of your skirt before pushing it up just enough to get underneath. his fingertips brushed over your panties, teasing you, and you could feel yourself already getting wet.

jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, his breath hot against your skin. “you’re already soaked, cant wait to suck this pussy,” he whispered

you opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a shaky breath as he slid one finger under the fabric, barely grazing your folds. he was taking his time, dragging his fingers slowly, deliberately, over your wetness.

“so wet for me,” he whispered again, his lips brushing against your ear now. “you want me to keep going?”

you nodded again, your hand gripping the edge of the table tighter, and you heard him let out a small, pleased hum before he pressed a single finger inside you. the stretch was slow, his finger curling as he pushed in deeper, and the slick sound of your wetness filled the quiet library, pussy swallowing easily the long finger.

it was embarrassingly loud. the soft squelch of his finger moving inside you echoed in the stillness, and your head fell back, a quiet moan slipping past your lips before you could stop it.

“shhh,” jeonghan whispered, mockingly, his other hand coming up to wrap lightly around your throat. “quiet, be quiet f'me okay??”

you bit down on your bottom lip, trying to stay quiet, but it was impossible when he was teasing you like this, his finger moving slowly in and out, curling in just the squishy spot. he was taking his time, dragging it out, the wet sounds growing louder with each shove of his finger.

“you like that?” he asked, his lips brushing against your neck now. “you like when i finger you slow like this?”

you could barely answer, your voice catching in your throat as he added a second finger, stretching you just a little more. the way your body responded was automatic—your legs spreading wider on instinct, your hips rocking forward to meet his hand.

jeonghan grinned, his fingers moving a little faster now, pushing deeper, the squishing sounds even louder than before. “fuck, you’re so tight,” he muttered.

your head fell back against his shoulder, your body giving in. you could feel every inch of his fingers moving inside you, every curl, every thrust, the knuckles, it was driving you insane. you reached out blindly, your free hand finding his thigh before sliding up to palm at the bulge in his pants.

he let out a soft groan, his hips shifting slightly as you pressed your hand harder against him. “you’re really trying to make me lose it, hmm?” he muttered, his voice strained as he continued to finger you, his pace quickening.

your hand fumbled with the zipper of his pants, trying to get him out, but it was hard to focus when he was fucking you with his fingers like this, your wetness dripping down onto his palm.

“shit,” he hissed when your hand finally slipped into his pants, your fingers wrapping around his length. he was hard—so fucking hard—and the way you gripped him made his head fall back, eyes rolling as he thrust his fingers even deeper into you.

“you like that, baby?” he asked. “you like when i fuck you with my fingers?”

you moaned softly, nodding as your hips bucked against his hand. your walls clenched around his fingers, and the wet squelching sounds got louder, filling the quiet library.

“fuck, you sound so good,” jeonghan groaned, pulling your panties to the side so he could spread your legs wider, giving himself better access. his fingers moved faster, pushing deeper, and you felt your body start to tremble, the pleasure building so quickly you could barely breathe.

“jeonghan,” you whimpered, your hand tightening around his length as your other hand gripped the table for dear life. your hips rocked against his fingers, desperate.

“that’s it, mhmm just like that baby,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear again. “cum for your hannie.. so nasty baby, letting me fuck this pussy with my fingers...what if someone see this hm?.”

before you could stop it, your body seized up, your walls clenched tight around his fingers, your back arching as you came, the wet sounds of your release echoing in the quiet library.

jeonghan groaned softly, his hand still moving, fingers still pumping in and out of you as you rode out your orgasm.

jeonghan watched as you giggled softly, in overstimulation, your head nestled into the crook of his neck, making him smile too. his arms wrapped around you tight, holding you against him.

a single line of slickness dripping down between your legs, a translucent trail of your release that shimmered against the dim library light and hit the floor with a quiet, inappropriate drip. he stared at it for a second, mesmerized by how fucking wet you were.

before you could even react, jeonghan slid his fingers from between your legs, sticky with your juices, and without hesitation, brought them to his lips. he sucked your wetness off them like it was nothing, like this was casual. but the way he moaned softly, like he was tasting something forbidden, made your cheeks burn.

“jeonghan!” you hissed, scolding him, giving him a little slap on the arm. “what the hell?”

he just shrugged, lips curved into that cocky smile. “couldn’t help it,” he muttered, the taste of you still lingering on his tongue. “you taste so fucking good.”

your face flushed even more, but you couldn’t hide the way your body still buzzed with need, even after he’d just made you come. your eyes flickered to the door—still shut, no one else around—and something wild sparked in you.

before you could second-guess it, you stood up from your chair and climbed onto his lap, straddling him fast. jeonghan’s eyes widened in shock, hands automatically flying to your hips, but not stopping you. “y/n,” he stammered, voice shaky, his breath catching in his throat, “n-no, we can’t—”

“why not?” you whined, rocking your hips forward just enough to brush his cock agasint your folds, and fuck, it felt good. you were still wet, soaked from your orgasm, and the friction was enough to make you both let out quiet, needy moans.

jeonghan’s hands gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your skin as he struggled to keep his composure. “fuck,” he muttered, biting down on his bottom lip hard, his whole body trembling beneath you. “because—shit—i can’t keep quiet.”

“please,” you begged, your voice dripping with desperation, leaning closer so your lips ghosted over his. “jeonghan, i’m so horny… been wanting you for years too.”

those words did something to him. years. and it hit him all at once—the weight of everything, of all those years of teasing, flirting, the back and forth that never went anywhere, the way he’d always kept it just at the edge, never crossing the line. and now, here you were, straddling him, begging for him like it was all too much to hold back anymore. he could feel it too—the years of tension, of watching you from a distance, making you smile just to hear that laugh, all leading up to this.

“fuck,” he whispered, voice strained as he watched you grind against him, his hands flexing on your hips. his eyes fluttered shut as the pressure built between you, your slick folds dragging against him. his body was wound so tight he felt like he could snap any second.

“jeonghan,” you whispered again, your breath hot against his lips, and then you reached down between you, a gasp escaping him when your hand wrapped around his length, teasing him.

“we can’t,” he whispered, but there was no conviction in his voice, not anymore. his hips bucked up into your hand, betraying how badly he wanted this. “we can’t do this here.”

“then be quiet,” you murmured, lips brushing over his as you guided the tip of his cock to your entrance. your wetness coated him, slick and hot, and jeonghan groaned, his head falling back against the chair as you slid him along your folds. he was so hard, so sensitive.

“fuck, y/n,” he gasped, his body trembling under your touch. his hands shot to your thighs, gripping them hard as you teased him, your slickness coating his cock, making everything feel too good, too intense.

“please,” you whispered again, pressing down just enough for his tip to catch at your entrance, and jeonghan’s whole body shuddered. “i need you.”

he bit down on his lip, his hands shaking as he tried to stop himself from completely losing control. “you’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, his voice rough with lust. “i won’t be able to stay quiet.”

but you didn’t care. you wanted him too badly, needed him too badly after all this time, all these years of unspoken tension finally coming to a head. you were practically shaking with need, your hips moving on their own as you slid his cock along your folds, teasing yourself with the tip.

jeonghan let out a low groan, his eyes rolling back as you rubbed against him, the wet sounds of your slickness filling the quiet space. “shit, baby,” he whispered, his hands trembling as they moved to grip your ass, pulling you even closer. “so fuckin good around me, fuck— i dont know if i will last.”

“then fuck me,” you whispered back, your voice desperate now, grinding down against him, your slick folds swallowing his cock inch by inch. you felt him twitch, felt how much he was holding back, and it only made you want him more.

he groaned, his head falling forward, his forehead resting against yours. “can’t keep quiet, can’t can’t—” he whispered again, his breath ragged, but the way his hips bucked up into you told you all you needed to know.

you let out a soft whimper as you finally sank down onto him, his cock stretching you so slowly, so perfectly. the feeling of him inside you after all this time was almost too much, and you moaned softly, your body trembling as he filled you up, inch by inch.

you started rocking your hips slowly, back and forth, barely pulling off him before sliding back down, letting him feel every inch of you. the way his cock filled you so perfectly made you clench around him, and you could hear jeonghan’s breath catch, a low groan slipping from his lips that he tried desperately to swallow.

his hands shot to your waist, gripping you tight as you moved. your rhythm was teasing, dragging your slick folds over him as his length stretched you with each motion. you knew what you were doing to him—the way his hips bucked up every time you slid down, his thighs tensing under your legs. he was struggling to hold it together, and you were reveling in every second of it.

you leaned forward, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “you’re so fucking hard for me hannie”

jeonghan let out a deep groan, his head falling back against the chair as he tried to keep quiet, his breath coming in short, desperate pants. “ngh—fuck—” he hissed, his grip on your waist tightening as he tried to control himself, but the way you were moving, so slow and deliberate, was killing him.

you smirked against his neck, pressing soft kisses to his skin before whispering again, your voice low. “you love how wet i am for you, hm? bet you’ve been thinking about this all of those years, huh?”

that did it. jeonghan’s whole body trembled, and he let out a strangled moan, “ahh—shit—” his fingers dug into your hips, trying to pull you down harder, but you kept the pace slow, teasing, letting him feel every second of it.

“fuck, y/n,” he groaned, his voice breaking as he threw his head back, his lips parted and eyes fluttering shut. “you—ngh—feel so fucking good.”

his reaction only fueled you more. you started grinding your hips a little faster, rolling them in circles. you leaned closer again, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered filth, your voice dripping with lust. “you’re such a good boy for me, letting me ride you like this..”

jeonghan let out another deep groan, “o-oh—fuck—” his hands slid under your skirt, gripping your ass as he helped guide your movements, his fingers squeezing the soft flesh. his eyes were half-lidded, mouth open, and you could feel him trembling beneath you, trying so hard to keep quiet, but every whisper from you had him moaning like he couldn’t control it.

“you’re such a dirty boy,” you whispered, “can feel how bad you want to cum inside me.”

“fuck—” he groaned again, louder this time, and you quickly leaned forward, pressing your lips to his to muffle the sound. the kiss was desperate, messy, his tongue immediately slipping into your mouth as he kissed you back hard, his hands pulling you down on him as you rocked your hips faster. you could feel him shaking, his control slipping with every thrust.

you pulled back, breathless, your lips hovering over his as you whispered again. “you gonna come for me, jeonghan? gonna fill me up like the good boy you are?”

his eyes rolled back, his hands gripping your ass even tighter as he thrust up into you, his cock twitching inside you. your fingers gripped the edge of the table to steady yourself, your nails digging into the wood as you rocked against him, feeling his cock throb inside you. his hands slid back up your hips, pulling you down gently as his cock twitched one last time inside you, the warmth of his release spreading through you.

you reached down between you, sliding your fingers through your own slickness and bringing them to his lips. “taste it,” you whispered, watching as his eyes fluttered open, still hazy with lust.

he groaned softly, but didn’t hesitate, his tongue slipping out to lick your fingers clean, tasting both of you mixed together. the sight of it made you shiver, and you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped your lips as you watched him suck on your fingers, his eyes locked on yours.

you could feel the heat between your legs still burning, still aching for more, and without thinking, you started to move again, grinding your hips against his slowly. jeonghan’s eyes widened, his hands gripping your waist as he realized what you were doing.

“y/n—” he whispered, his voice shaky, “what the—we—fuck, we can’t—”

“shh,” you whispered, your lips brushing over his as you rocked your hips again, feeling his cock start to harden inside you. “just one more time.”

jeonghan let out a low groan, his hands sliding down to your ass again as he gave in, his body already reacting to the feeling of you moving on him again. “fuck,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “you’re gonna kill me.”

you just smiled, pressing your lips to his as you whispered against his mouth, “then die happy.”

[bigification]

Prom King

"We want to welcome you back to Fairway High for your ten year reunion. Come catch up with some old friends and share all the amazing adventures you've had since you graduated! And stick around for a special speech from our Prom King and Queen."

Dan shuddered as he read the email. He had completely forgotten about the stupid reunion. It's funny, he thought, he used to imagine how he would show up to the reunion in a sports car with a perfect bod and high end clothes hugging his muscles. But that was back when he was the most popular football player in his town. Parents adored him, popular teens idoled him, and nerds feared him. Things have changed a lot for Dan since then.

He stared at his half naked body, ravaged by the bad habits of an ex jock. His appetite stayed after he graduated high school, but the exercise didn't last long. He went off to study business in college, as any high school jock did. His time spent at football practice turned to frat parties and junk food, which quickly showed on his waistline. It really put a dent in his once untouched ego, especially once people nicknamed him as 'freshman' fifty. It wasn't quite fifty pounds, at least not in his first year. It sure was well over that by the time he graduated though. And in that time, his clean shaven body had been buried in thick dark hair from head to toe. Although he didn't entirely mind the more mature look, especially once his beard grew in, it complemented his growing gut. Though Dan took another sizable cut to his ego when he started to go bald at the ripe age of 20. Comb overs only lasted him so long, so he started shaving it when he was in his senior year.

He always said it built character, which to be fair, he was far less awful after graduating college than he was in high school. The email only made him remember how awful he was back then. He was the typical jock with his possy of suck up football players who had no personality and the most popular girls. He would torment anyone who was even slightly chubby, or even just smart, they were all beneath him in his mind. How were people gonna react when he shows up to the reunion looking 9 months pregnant and about to burst. It horrified him at the thought of them treating him how he treated them.

Then the horrifying thought hit him, "I'm the Prom King!" He shouted out loud at him in the mirror. Not only would he have to show his face, and gut, he would have to stand on stage in front of his entire graduating year and say a speech about being Prom King. He would be a laughing stock.

"I have to do something about this." He thought.

The reunion was still two weeks away, he could workout, or diet, or maybe buy some clothes that hide his fat. He did a frantic search online but everything just seemed like a scam. He scrolled through page after page of scam supplement and intense workout regimen until he found something interesting. A witch who lived nearby. A witch who specializes in body modifications. It was drastic, but could be crazy enough to work.

Dan contacted the witch with a request to make him into an absolute jock, the kind of man his high school friends would expect him to be 10 years later.

After a bit of back and forth, an appointment was set, and Dan went to bed happy.

The day of the appointment came in a flash. Dan threw on his classic base ball cap to cover his balding head, and dressed in some gym clothes that he thought would look sick on his new hunky body. He excitedly hopped in his car and drove down to the witches house. To his surprise, it was just a regular apartment in a regular apartment building. He was expecting some evil looking house, but seemed less intimidating anyway. He knocked on the door, and he was met with yet another surprise. A petite and nice looking woman wearing all black opened the door.

"Come in darling." Her voice was enchanting. "Sit." She continued in a soft but commanding tone.

Dan sat in a small chair in front of an antique looking table. The raggedy wooden chair creaked under his weight as the witch sat across from him.

"So... You say you want a strong, manly, and attractive appearance?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"Well for what it's worth, you're much more attractive than you used to be." A cold breeze blew past Dan as she spoke.

"Oh... Thank you." His cheeks reddened at the comment.

"I do have to warn you, there are some... dangers to this spell." Her tone darkens.

Dan just raised his eyebrows.

"There are people who feed off of a witch's magic. Now I know how to avoid them, but I will be imbuing this magic into you. So you may have a target on your back from people trying to steal your magic."

"I'm sure I'll be fine."

"Just don't draw too much attention to yourself." The witch warned. "Anyway. I'll get on with it."

She dipped her hands in a small bowl that was laid on the table. "Stand up." She commanded, and Dan followed. She walked around to Dan's side of the table, fingers wet from whatever was in the bowl. She pressed her fingers into his forehead, and it felt like all the tension in his body vanished in a split second. In fact, all feeling seemed to vanish in Dan's body, leaving him stood exactly still. Something about being frozen should have scared him, but he felt a strange sense of calm in the moment.

The witches fingers traced down Dan's face, through his beard and over his soft man tits. She lifted the finger and firmly pressed it back down into his chest. It was like the air was pushed out of his chest as the fat on his moobs collapsed in on itself, leaving his chest completely flat. She then pulled her finger outward, and his pecs grew as she pulled. The muscle swelled until two juicy pecs pressed hard against his tang top. Dan was shocked, he couldn't believe it actually worked, although he still couldn't move.

The witch then traced her finger down to his gut. She laid the palm of her hand against it and pushed, causing his belly to vanish in a second. And once again, she pulled her hand back to form a defined six pack over his flat stomach. She moved her finger around his side, melting away his love handles and giving him a thin waist.

She then suddenly sped up, as if she hit her stride. Her hands gripped Dan's soft arms, and suddenly definition appeared on his rapidly growing biceps. They grew to the size of melons as his shoulders broadened to match. Good thing he wore a tang top or else his sleeves would be in shreds on the floor. Her hands slid down his forearms, doubling their size in the process, and she held his hands, making them so massive they could completely cover his face.

She then bent down and grabbed his thighs, causing them to thicken to the point that Dan couldn't separate them anymore. She thickened his calves as she moved to his feet, making them burst out of his shoes as they grew to a monstrous size 20. As she stood back up, Dan realized the witch stood at eye level to his pecs when they used to be the same height.

The witch then wrapped her arms around Dan's hulking body and cupped his ass cheeks, making them expand into two thick globes of fat that threatened to rip through his shorts. One hand then came back and gripped Dan's dick, making it grow and thicken until it was a massive 10 inches and hanging down his pant leg.

Finally, her hand lifted up to Dan's face, making a few adjustments to match his body. A thicker beard, a sharper jawline, a slightly bigger head to match his much bigger body, and thick brown hair on his head.

Dan gasped as he regained control of his body. He teetered back and forth as he tried to get used to his new body. His legs felt strong, holding up his immense muscle mass with ease. He even struggled to move his arms around at first because it was difficult to move that amount of mass. His meaty hands took a moment to explore his expansive body; bouncing his pecs and his ass, gripping his cock, and even rubbing through the short brown hair that now covered his head.

"How are ya feeling handsome?" The witch broke the silence.

"Are you kidding me, I feel amazing!" Dan flexed, as if to show off his body like a new toy.

"Well I'm glad you like it, now we should talk abou-" the witch was interrupted as Dan basically ran out the door.

"I'll be fine, thank you!" The sound of his voice got quieter as he shut the door behind him.

On his way home, Dan excitedly stopped by a retail store to grab some clothes that actually fit. He confidently strolled in with his tang top riding up his hairy six pack, and shorts that were clearly too small for him. He picked up a few clothes that were big enough to fit him, but small enough to leave little to the imagination about his physique. The clothes weren't exactly pretty, but nobody would care about the clothes when his hunky body was the one wearing them. He even flirted with the cashier on the way out, making his cheeks flush red.

He swiftly made it home and passed out like he had just had the workout of his life.

He woke up the next morning, feeling like he was still in a dream. He shot out of bed as if he'd had three cups of coffee already. This was how he spent every morning leading up to the reunion. Dan was more productive this week than he had been in years. His looks quickly got him a modest following on Instagram, and even on onlyfans after his followers pestered him enough. He reconnected with a bunch of his old friends from high school, just to build a rapport with them before the reunion. And he spent most nights partying and staying the night at some strangers house. By the time the reunion rolled around, it was as if he was the same person he was in high school. Hot, athletic, cocky as hell, and maybe just a bit nicer than he was back in high school. So much for 'building character'.

Before he knew it, it was time to leave for the reunion. He had been prepping for this all week, there was no way he could mess it up now. Dan was meant to be the Prom King. He wore a snug pair of jeans that hugged his ass perfectly, and a grey shirt that showed off his juicy pecs, and finally threw on the letter jacket he wore when he was Prom King ten years prior.

He pulled up to the reunion in his shitty, half broken down car and parked as far out of the way as possible just so no one could see the piece of shit he drove. He pushed open the door to the venue and walked past the crowd of people as if all eyes were on him, because they were. Everyone who was anyone knew who the Prom King was.

He strolled to the back of the stage, so he could get ready for his speech. He stood alone, in silence for a moment, trying to hype himself up. Even after the amazing week he has had, it was the same insecure fat ex jock under there who was scared that everyone would laugh at him onstage. But his moment of silence was interrupted when loud footsteps approached him from behind.

An older man strolls into the backstage, walking right past Dan as if he wasn't there. Dan grimaced as the man got close, seeing the man's large ball belly hanging out of his shirt, which seemed to have multiple buttons popped off. "What is this pig doing here?" Dan couldn't help but think of the old man. The old man promptly sat down in a chair near Dan, leaning back and pulling the shirt up his gut, as if to show it off.

"Who the fuck are you!?" Dan yelled as he got fed up with the old man's antics.

"Oh, you don't know who I am?" The man said as he continued to adjust himself in the seat.

"Why would I know some loser like you, are you the Prom Queens dad or something." Dan scoffed.

"I thought the witch would have warned you about me." The old man's demeanor became more serious.

Dan felt a jolt of fear run down his spine. How does he know about the witch?

"Oh I bet she did." The man started to laugh. "But all the attention online and the sex and the porn, oh the porn was so good." The man grunted as he rubbed his crotch. "You just couldn't resist being popular!"

Dan only grew more afraid as the man monologued.

"I am going to enjoy this." The old smiled as he got up from the chair.

"Enjoy what?" Dan questioned as he tried to back away, but couldn't. Why couldn't he back away. The old man grew closer and closer, but no matter how much Dan wanted to run, he remained frozen in place. The man placed his finger on Dan's forehead, causing a blue light to escape from his body and enter the man's body.

Dan watched helplessly as the man's arms grew to the size of melons, his biceps bursting through his sleeves. Meanwhile, all Dan could feel was his sleeves becoming looser as his arms deflated. The man's moobs shrunk into a solid pair of pecs as Dan looked down to see his chest swell until he was left with two soft man tits. The man's ball gut got smaller and smaller as fat piled into Dan's stomach, leaving him with a heavy gut that spilled under his shirt. The man's pants grew tighter and tighter as thick muscles filled his thighs and juicy fat perked up his ass. Dan felt weak as his legs became more fat than muscle, he even felt the bulge in his pants shrink as he watched a thick bulge appear in the man's pants.

As if that wasn't enough, Dan watched on in horror as the man's face ages down from 60 down to 30. His wrinkles melted away as Dans became dry and wrinkly, his face thinned out as Dan's became rounder and chubbier, and his hair gained a light brown colour as Dan's thinned out and became white. The man pulled off his shirt to reveal a forest of dark hairs sprouting all over his body as a bushy bread covered his face. Meanwhile Dan can feel his face go cold from the much thinner facial hair.

As the transformation came to an end, the man flexed as he felt the energy course through him.

Dan once again let out a gasp as he regained control of his body, though this time his voice was much deeper and gruffer. Dan panicked as he ran his hands through all of the new rolls of fat on his body. He even stumbled back as he adjusted to the weight of his gut.

"What did you do to me!?" Dan yelled.

"Oh you did this to yourself buddy, y'know how easy it was to find you." The man responded, sounding almost exactly like you used to.

"You made me fat." Dan's voice breaks.

"Oh I did so much more than that, check the camera in your phone old man." The man smiled, as if he was containing his excitement.

Dan dreadfully pulled out his phone and opened the camera app.

Dan shed a tear as he saw the fat old man staring back at him through his phone's camera. His gut was bursting out of his jacket and his hair was nearly as thin as it was before his initial transformation.

"And if you don't mind I'll be taking that." The man grabbed the letter jacket off of Dan and put it on himself.

The man confidently strutted towards the stage, ready to give his speech as Prom King, but Dan wasn't ready to give up that easily. His footsteps were heavy as he followed the man onstage and grabbed his arm.

"You're not gonna take this away from me!" Dan yelled.

This was followed by a moment of silence as the crowd went awkwardly quiet. Everyone's eyes were once again on Dan, but it didn't feel like before.

"Ooohhh, that was embarrassing old man." The old man whispered to Dan before approaching the mic. "I'm sorry everybody, my dad is just a bit jealous that I'm in my glory days and he's not." The man says to the entire venue, then turns to you once again. "Isn't that right, dad? " He said as he pressed his finger into Dan's chest.

Dan froze once again. This time, memories flooded into his brain. Memories of him growing old, never reaching the happiness and popularity he had in high school. He even had a son, and named him Dan jr. after himself of course. Though his son would grow to top him in all of his achievements, including becoming prom King back when he was in high school. Dan Sr. finally decided to swallow his pride and let his son have the spotlight. He slowly waddled off to the side and watched as his son gave his speech as Prom King.

[seungkw1]

one last chance — bsk

♡ pairing: boo seungkwan x afab!reader ♡ theme: college au, smut [18+ MDNI] ♡ wc: 4.3k ♡ warnings: drinking, size kink, masturbation (m.), oral (m. & f. receiving), head pushing, face sitting (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex (don’t do this), reader is down bad, sk is also down bad, quite a bit of whimpering from both parties oop ♡ a/n: back from my hiatus!! hope u guys enjoy this one <3

You’ve accepted that you’re never going to see your college crush again after graduation - but an unexpected invitation to a pool party might just change everything.

Boo Seungkwan is many things: charming, witty, intelligent, athletic, and incredibly good-looking. There’s not one particular thing that stands out when you think about how in love you are with him - he is simply the most attractive person you’ve ever met.

You first met him freshman year of college, at a house party just before the school year started, when you drunkenly kissed him. To be fair, you kissed a few people that night, but you don't remember the others - only the cute guy on the volleyball team made a lasting impression. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you distinctly remember him being a very good kisser. 

You had a few classes together over the years. You quickly developed a habit of sitting at the very front of the classroom - if you sat anywhere you could see him, you would simply get lost in a daydream. And you really didn't want to fail your classes over some silly fantasies. 

But at a certain point, you accepted that the fantasies were, in fact, quite serious. You wouldn't consider Boo Seungkwan to be a friend, per se - but your social circles overlapped just enough to keep him on the perimeter of acquaintanceship. Though seemingly one-sided, you came to know him well, as if he was a longtime companion rather than a friend of a friend at best. You tried telling yourself that he just had that effect on people, being so gregarious and outgoing that everyone loved him by default. Which was true to a degree. But something about him - rather, everything about him simply captivated you

And that was enough for you to fall in love. 

You always felt a little insane about it. How could you be so in love with someone without having talked to them more than a handful of times in your life? You dated around here and there, a couple relationships serious, most not. But Boo Seungkwan was always in the back of your mind. Try as you might, you simply could not get over him.

Four years came and went. The ups and downs of college life are nearly behind you now. Everyone is about to get a big adult job, perhaps move cities, enter the real world. Aside from your closest friends, you probably will never see most of these people ever again outside of social media. They’ll walk the stage, and then walk out of your life for good. 

And so, disheartened, you accept that your chances with Boo Seungkwan will once and for all become zero. But purely by luck, the next day on your coffee run you bump into a friend of a friend who invites you to a pool party on the weekend. It’s a graduation party out in the suburbs, at a huge house owned by the parents of a well-known, popular student who happens to be in the same fraternity as Seungkwan. Normally, you would've declined - you've always found pool parties a bit awkward, especially when you likely wouldn't know many people there. But there was a pretty damn good chance that Seungkwan would be there - and you would be remiss if you didn't take one last chance to at least talk to him. So with cautious optimism, you agreed to go. 

You spend the next couple days before the party massively overthinking what you're going to wear. After much deliberation you land on a bright blue swimsuit with an oversized sheer coverup on top. Good enough, anyway. 

You intentionally arrive to the party fashionably late - no need to get there too early and get roped into small talk with people you hardly know. Fortunately, you spot your roommate from sophomore year - you're not close, but you still consider them a good friend. They wave you over and you join the group; the conversation is fine, but eventually a few of them get deep into a discussion on some indie film you've never seen. You zone out, eyes wandering around the party scene. Not many people are in the pool - still too early, apparently; one frat guy you vaguely recognize is busy at the grill making slightly-burnt hot dogs, but the rest haven't seemed to arrive yet. As if summoned by your thoughts, a group of guys enters the backyard, hooting and hollering with several giant cases of beer in tow. The party attendees cheer at the sight of alcohol. 

Then, a few moments after the arriving party has entered, you see him. 

Like a goddamn scene from a movie, Seungkwan walks through the gate - his warm brown hair flowing gently in the breeze, his skin shining in the golden hour sun. He’s wearing a plain black t-shirt and simple navy swim shorts, but somehow still looks ethereal. 

Someone in the group you've been chatting with waves him over. 

“Heyyyyy, now the party’s here!” the guy shouts at him. Seungkwan waves back to him, his eyes scanning the group, when he makes eye contact with you. After a few seconds you realize you've been holding your breath. You exhale. 

Relax, you tell yourself. He probably doesn't even remember you. 

Seungkwan joins your group. The frat bro who waved him over hands him a beer. He opens it and chugs a bit, the can looking particularly small in his large hands. You try to be normal and not just stare at him hopelessly, but it's easier said than done. 

A few minutes pass. Some of his fellow volleyball players were amidst the group, so they started talking about the sport. You’ve only been to a few volleyball games in your life (all of them being college games that you attended with the idea of watching Seungkwan in shorts in mind), so you do your best to follow along with the conversation, but it's not going too well for you. So you mostly just remain silent. 

After a while, you start thinking of excuses to get you out of this conversation. Not that you don't want to be around him anymore - but you're feeling too awkward for your liking at this point. You decide that you can probably just slip away without anyone noticing, so you turn to leave. 

“Hey y/n! Want a beer?”

You freeze in your tracks. Turning back around, you see Seungkwan in front of you, extending a Bud Light to you. 

“Oh, sure,” you say, smiling to conceal your nerves. “Thanks!”

“Of course,” he says with a soft grin. “So,” he continues, “I heard you were-”

He doesn't get to finish his sentence. 

Three of his fellow frat bros emerged out of thin air, cheering and shouting, grabbing Seungkwan and hauling him away. With a big SPLASH they throw him into the pool. 

As he surfaces he begins yelling at his friends. 

“What the hell!!!”

They all laugh at him - he pretends to be mad, but he can't help but laugh along with them. 

“Help me out, dipshit,” he says to the nearest friend. The guy reaches down to help him out of the pool, but Seungkwan pulls him into the water instead. The rest of them let out a loud OOOOOOOOH before jumping into the pool after them. 

You scoff at their stupidity, but you can't help but laugh too. 

“Wanna go inside, y/n?” your old roommate asks you. “I heard there's an air hockey table in there.”

“I’m terrible at air hockey,” you inform them, but you agree. As you step through the door to the house, you take one look back. Seungkwan and his buddies are now playing chicken in the pool. You swear you see him looking at you from atop his buddy’s shoulders, but moments later he gets whacked with a pool noodle and falls into the water. You roll your eyes as you go in the house. Idiots. 

But you secretly still hope you can talk to him again later. 

—

Your wish comes true - sort of. 

The sun is long set, and pretty much everybody is in the hot tub. You were chilling with a few others, but more and more people started joining in. It’s getting a bit crowded, but Seungkwan happens to be two people over from you. You’ve ended up between two different conversations, participating in neither, but listening along as he talks about the new music he’s been listening to lately. 

Suddenly, a massive uproar arises from indoors. 

“SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS!...”

In an instant nearly everybody leaps out of the hot tub, whooping and cheering as they follow the drunken chanting into the house. 

Everybody but Seungkwan. 

He fixes his eyes on you - his eyelids slightly heavy from numerous beers, his red-tinted cheeks illuminated in the dim glow of the backyard string lights, his lips seemingly extra plush, soft, kissable… 

He has never looked more stunning than he does right now. 

A lazy smile spreads across his face. “No shots for you, then?”

You shake your head. “Nah, I'm okay.”

“Me too.”

A few moments of silence pass. He gazes at you as if he has something he wants to say, but he hesitates. Despite the lack of conversation, it feels… comfortable. Like you could sit in silence all night with him and not get bored - his presence is more than enough. 

“Can I ask you a dumb question?” he finally asks, the look on his face slightly sheepish. 

“Sure,” you respond, working overtime to maintain your calm exterior despite your heart rate rising. “Though - I'm sure it's not dumb,” you add affirmatively.  

He reclines, lifting his elbows and placing his arms casually along the edge of the hot tub. He looks up at the moonlit night sky, as if reminiscing. 

“Do you remember when we kissed that one time?”

You feel as if you've suddenly been electrocuted. You don't know what you expected him to ask, but it certainly wasn't that. 

He continues. “It was at the very beginning of college - before classes had even started. At a house party. We were both drunk, you probably don't even remember-”

“No I remember,” you blurt out. He turns his head to you again, a look of genuine surprise upon his face. 

“You do?” he responds, momentarily forgetting to contain his elation. 

“Of course,” you reply with a nod. 

“You must have a really good memory, then,” he says nonchalantly - but you can tell he hopes there's something more to it. 

“Not really,” you admit. His eyes remain locked on yours. He turns slightly, facing you. 

“I've thought about it often over the years. Thought about you.” 

Your stomach drops. 

He drifts a bit closer through the softly bubbling water, his eyes locked on you. “Sometimes I wonder what things would be like if I’d ever had the courage to ask you out.”

You stare back at him, too stunned to respond. His lips curl into a smile. 

“What's that look for?” he asks. His big brown eyes are practically sparkling.

“I…” you start, but your mind goes blank. You're still trying to process his words. 

“I had no idea you felt that way,” you eventually manage to say. “Honestly, I didn't even know if you remembered who I was.”

“You're kinda hard to forget.”

“Oh,” is what manages to come out of your mouth. You feel dizzy.

“What do you mean, courage?” you ask him. 

“Hm? Oh, I mean you’re just so… out of my league.”

You let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. It’s Seungkwan’s turn to look confused. 

“It's true!” he proclaims. 

You gawk back at him. He laughs. 

“You look flabbergasted.”

“I am flabbergasted,” you concur. “You're the one who's way out of my league!”

He shakes his head. “You're crazy. But that's why I like you.” He drifts toward you even further, fully sitting beside you now. His shoulder brushes against yours. A rush of adrenaline pulses through your body. 

“That,” he continues, “and the fact that you're one of the smartest people I know. And kind. And funny. And…”

Gently, he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up toward his. 

“So beautiful.”

Without a further thought, you kiss him. 

He kisses you back, with such passion that can only be achieved by a prolonged period of yearning. He cradles your face in his hand, the other reaching for your waist under the water. You grasp his shirt in your fist, melting into the kiss you've been dreaming of for years. You slide your other hand underneath the drenched fabric of his tee, wrapping around to the small of his back, drawing him in even closer. He wraps both arms around you, pulling you onto his lap, squeezing your body tightly against his as his lips hungrily lock into yours. Your mind is completely devoid of any thoughts unrelated to Seungkwan - you only think of him, of his words to you, of the sensations of his figure touching yours, of the hardening form beneath his trousers pressing against your core. 

After what feels like a blissful eternity, your lips delicately part, your mouths lingering next to one another. You’re fully sat upon him now, straddling his thighs as he holds you tight in his arms. You slide your arms over his shoulders, shifting yourself upwards - ostensibly to position yourself more comfortably, but also conveniently grinding against the bulge in his swim trunks. He groans at the sensation.  

“Fuckkkkk.”

He looks up at you, longingly. You're both still somewhat inebriated, but sobered up enough from the adrenaline rush of physical touch. 

“What if we…,” you start, pausing to plant several kisses onto his soft cheeks. 

“...got out of here?”

His eyes light up with excitement. 

“We could head to my place-”

“Nuh-uh,” he interjects. “That'll take too long,” he  mumbles as he presses his mouth against your neck. You let out an involuntary noise. 

“I've waited long enough. I want you now.”

His voice grumbling in your ear makes your pussy ache. 

“I happen to be staying the night in the guest bedroom,” he tells you as he runs his fingers gently up and down your back. “Upstairs - third door on the left at the end of the halfway.”

You draw your face back, pressing your forehead against his. 

“Well that's convenient.”

He grins. “You go first. I’ll join you in a couple minutes.”

You quickly dry off, don your coverup, and enter the buzzing house. You worry that someone is going to see you heading upstairs and ask you what you're doing - but nobody even seems to realize you're there. They're all too drunk to notice or give a shit. 

Acting as if you belong there, you head up the large staircase. Upstairs you find a ridiculously long hallway - you approach the third door on the left, giving a soft knock in case anyone else has decided to use the room for similar purposes. Hearing nothing from the other side, you enter. The guest room is fairly large, equipped with the usual furnishings, with Seungkwan’s bag and things tidily placed in their appropriate spots. A king size bed with expensive-looking sheets and a plethora of pillows awaits. 

Before you can even start to overthink everything, the room is flooded with light from the door opening abruptly. Startled, you turn around to see the light extinguished as quickly as it appeared as Seungkwan shuts the door behind him and turns the lock. He arrived shirtless - which makes sense considering that his t-shirt would've been sopping wet due to him wearing it in the pool, but his unexpected half-nakedness certainly makes your insides jolt. Even in the dimness of the room, even with damp strands of hastily towel-dried hair laying disheveled across his forehead, he is strikingly hot. 

“That was fas-”

“Couldn't wait,” he says as he grabs your face, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. You grasp onto the bulge in his shorts, squeezing lightly. He moans into your mouth as he kisses you still. You grab ahold of your coverup, starting to remove it, but his hands snap up to your wrists, stopping you. 

“Hold on,” he mutters, his lips barely separated from yours. 

His fingers delicately trace the swimsuit’s thin straps though the sheer outer fabric. He lifts his hand and cups your face in his palm, stroking your cheek softly with his thumb. 

“I wanna watch.”

He pulls the desk chair out and sits down, his supple thighs spreading apart to accommodate what appears to be a thick fucking cock, still growing in size. 

You raise an eyebrow at him. “I mean, I’m only wearing a swimsuit, it's not gonna take long.”

“Take your time, baby.”

And so you make a show out of it. 

You caress your breasts through the sheer top, squeezing them gently. You run your fingertips over your nipples, causing them to harden and visibly poke through the swimsuit. Seungkwan moans at the sight of them, reaching his hand down to his cock and stroking it slowly through his shorts. 

You peel your outer garment off your body in slow motion, discarding it to the floor. You run your hands back down your body, hugging every curve; one hand returns to your breast, pinching your nipple, while the other keeps sliding down, finding your clit and massaging it lightly over the fabric. 

“God that's fucking hot.”

He reaches his hand into his shorts, letting out a pathetic whine as he touches himself. You feel your cunt throb beneath your fingers. 

“Take those off,” you plead.  

He gives a few more slow pumps before sliding his trousers off, tossing them aside. Your eyes widen as his length springs free, brushing against his stomach. He’s even bigger than you expected, not only long but fat. Genuinely, you're not sure how he could even possibly fit inside you - but that makes you crave it even more. 

Slowly you slide your swim top to the side, your erect nipple growing even harder in the cool air of the room. You run your hand over your bare tit, reaching across to expose the other. Seungkwan’s hand falls into a steady rhythm as he strokes his cock. He leans his head back, sinking into the chair, his eyes glazed over as they pore over your body. You continue, sliding the reminder of your swimsuit off and discarding it on the floor. He groans as his grip tightens, his pace increasing. 

You step forward. 

“Can I…”

You drop to your knees, sliding your hands onto his thighs, positioning your face in front of his cock. 

“Oh god, please,” he begs, nodding his head fervorously. 

You grab onto his cock, running your tongue from his balls to his tip. He moans, the sounds turning whinier as you begin to swirl your tongue around the head. By the time you take his entire length into your throat, he is full on whimpering. 

He places his hand upon your head, pushing down lightly. You slide your mouth up and down his cock, swallowing him so deep it makes you gag - but that only makes you wetter. He pushes your head down harder, pressure increasing more and more as his body writhes beneath you. 

“Oh my god baby,” he moans. “Fuckkkk y/n, ‘m gonna cum.”

His thighs begin to shake as he thrusts into your mouth, holding your head in place as he releases. Your eyes flood with tears as you choke on his size, hot spurts of cum deliciously hitting the back of your throat. His moans taper off as he comes down, his hand gently stroking your hair. You pull your mouth off his cock, looking up at him as you swallow all of his cum. 

“Jesus christ, you're so hot,” he praises as he catches his breath. After several silent moments of deep breathing, he rises, pulling you to your feet with him. His hands grasp your hips, pushing you toward the bed as he kisses you, his tongue slipping into your mouth to taste himself on you. You reach the side of the bed, the back of your legs bumping against the mattress; he swings you around, swapping places with you as he sits down. He plants a series of kisses on your stomach before gazing up at you, still high off his orgasm as revealed by his warm, glowing pink cheeks. 

“Will you sit on my face?”

You hesitate. You run your hands through his hair as you ask, “Are you sur-”

“Yes. Please.”

He lays down, resting upon the bed's many pillows. 

“You don't even know how many times I’ve dreamed of this.”

He pulls you onto the bed, on top of him. You crawl up toward his face, your pussy lingering in front of his lips. He grabs your hips again, pulling you onto his mouth. You cry out as he buries his face in your cunt, his lips and tongue traversing your soaked folds. 

“Fuck you're so wet,” he mumbles, refusing to remove his mouth from you any further. He begins to fuck you with his tongue, his nose pressing against your clit in a way that drives you fucking crazy. You grind your hips, the friction against your sensitive spot sending waves of pleasure through your body. You ride his face, hips bucking lightly as he eats you out like there’s no tomorrow. 

He drags his tongue up your slit, locking his lips around your clit, making you let out ungodly noises as he sucks on the throbbing bud. His arms wrap around your thighs, squeezing tightly as he holds you firmly against his face. He alternates between flattening his tongue against your clit, swirling his tongue around it, sucking on it - the combination of sensations driving you over the edge. 

You grip onto the headboard, white-knuckled, as your legs begin to shake. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you cry, looking down at the man whose face is buried in your cunt. He gazes at you, his eyes drunk with lust, taking in the sight of you moaning and losing your mind to his touch. “Seungkwan…”

Your orgasm takes over, riding out your climax upon his tongue. You clutch onto your breast, whimpering shamelessly, seeing stars as you cum all over his face. Time seems to stop as pleasure explodes through your whole being. 

His tongue slows as you come down, licking you softly as you brush your fingers through his tousled locks. With heavy breaths you climb off of his face, clinging to him as you lay next to him. Seungkwan quickly rolls over on top of you, his huge cock fully erect again - clearly extremely turned on by making you cum. 

You open your legs, aligning your soaked cunt with its head. 

“Fuck me,” you plead breathily. 

He slowly pushes his cock into you. As wet and ready as you are, nothing could have prepared you for his size. The stretch is instant, your walls forming around his thickness. You've never felt more full in your life. 

You let out a groan as he bottoms out, filling up your whole cunt. He begins fucking you, rhythmically pounding into you as his breath heaves with each thrust. You shift your hips, allowing him to go even deeper. He kisses you, pressing his lips against yours desperately, your moans unceasing but muffled against his mouth. Soon, he's fucking you hard - and it feels heavenly. 

“Harder,” you beg. 

His eyes devour you, his reddened cheeks glistening with sweat as he gives you every inch of his cock. His eyes close, his face scrunching up as his breathing grows heavy. 

“Gonna make me cum again, oh fuck…” he barely manages to get out before his moaning rises in pitch. He gets only a few more thrusts in before he pulls out; he grabs his cock and gives it several powerful strokes before he cums a second time, white ropes painting your dripping pussy and your stomach. 

With a deep exhale, he plops onto the bed right beside you, tucking his head into the crook of your neck. His fingers graze over your body as he reaches for your breasts, squeezing them softly as he recovers, his chest rising and falling against you with heavy but slowing breaths. 

“That was…” he says as he strokes his hands softly against your cheek, turning your head to face him. 

“Wow.”

You let out a giggle, your head still spinning from getting dicked the fuck down. 

“Soooo…” he starts, shifting his body to lay comfortably on his side. “I promise I wasn't stalking you or anything, but I did hear that you got a job in the same city as me.”

You stare back at him, confused. 

“But I thought you were moving back to your hometown?” 

He smiles. “I was planning to, but at the last minute I decided to take this offer. I wanted to be closer to most of my friends. But - I happened to hear you'd be moving there too. And I’d be lying if I said that wasn't at least a little bit of a factor in my decision.”

Your eyes light up as you process his words. 

“Honestly, I only came to this party because I thought I’d never see you again,” you admit. 

He gives you a cheeky grin. “So you came here intending on hooking up with me.”

“No!!” you balk at him, but a smile spreads across your face too. “Well… maybe a little. I figured I had only one more chance to shoot my shot. And I knew I'd regret it if I didn't at least try.” 

He beams at you softly. “Well, I sure am glad you did.”

“Me too,” you beam back. 

“Though,” you add, “Now that you've rearranged my guts I think you should at least take me out to dinner.”

Seungkwan bursts out laughing. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he tells you, but he leans in for another kiss. 

“But I’d absolutely love to.”

—

taglist: @juyeonshour @bath1lda @miniseokminnies @myhimbomingi

[reverieblondie]

Summer Vacation

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Fingering. You and Miguel have to be sneaky.

Summary: College has been stressful and your finally off for summer vacation... But then you receive a surprise visit...

A/N: Ya'll thought I wasn't writing for Miguel anymore... oh how wrong you all are... If this dose well I will make it a mini series! Just let me know! Enjoy!

Word count: 3,242

So much for your plans for a quiet vacation…

It had been perfect in your mind. Your parents were out of town, and their house was so close to the beach that you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have a nice and relaxing summer vacation all to yourself. School had been hectic, and you needed some serious relaxing time lounging out under a shady umbrella, cutting down on your TBR list with a frozen drink at your side and maybe a summer fling on the other.

But now... that’s not going to happen, not with the little surprise visit you received…

As you had settled in last night, you heard the sounds of a slamming car door. Your first thought was your parents made a surprisingly short trip, but that’s when you saw him entering through the front door. 

Your brother? What is his goofy -

But before you can finish the thought, you saw him following in. You haven’t seen him in years, but as soon as you see those familiar eyes, you know exactly who he is. Miguel O’Hara, your older brother’s best friend. The last time you remember seeing Miguel was the summer before he and your brother graduated. Lots of people assumed Miguel was a grumpy jerk from his quiet nature. Still, you always found him funny and kinda charming. You especially loved when he gave your brother a hard time: Miguel was definitely your favorite out of all your brother’s friends.

In contrast, the others ignored you, where Miguel was always friendly and looked after you in his own way. Sure, he wasn’t stopping you in the halls to talk to you your freshman year, but you would catch how he would be subtly watching you, and without fail, every time you were doing homework at your dining room table, Miguel would slide in next to you to whisper what questions you got wrong. Okay, sure, you planned it out to be there when he came over, but could you really blame a girl? Miguel was top of his class, plus it also helped that Miguel was quite cute.   

You ended up developing a bit of a crush on him, but he was off-limits, and that was only a silly little freshman year crush. You are way past that. So, as you sit here lounging on your couch, watching him walk in looking taller, buffer, and undoubtedly cuter, okay, he’s actually sexy as hell now…

As soon as Miguel walked in, his eyes met yours. At first, he was equally surprised to see you, but his shock quickly turned to a smile, like he was actually excited to see you. Though the smile was short-lived, as when your brother turned around to grab his bag from him, Miguel went back to his ever-stoic look. 

After your initial surprise wore off, you told your brother about disrupting your plans. He was quick to assure you that he wasn’t going to ruin them as he walked over and ruffled your hair, “Don’t sweat it, sis. Me and Miguel won’t bother you too much.” 

“Too much?”

He laughs as he saunters into the kitchen, “Well, I am your older brother, and I can’t just not mess with you!” 

The audible groan you give only earns a laugh from your sibling. Older brothers… 

While your ruined vacation plans are flashing before your eyes, a clearing throat catches your attention. Turning around, you see Miguel looking down at you with a bit of a smile back to his full lips, 

“Guessing you’re not too excited to see us…” 

Well, if it had just been Miguel….that's a different story… “Let’s just say I had plans for a stress-relief vacation and can’t exactly do now with an older brother lurking around…” 

Miguel chuckles and quickly looks you up and down for a moment. His eyes go to your brother as he leans down and whispers, “You could… if you know how to be sneaky about it…” 

For a moment, you don’t think this is happening, but… is Miguel flirting? You look at him, confused but very intrigued… you haven’t seen him in forever, and this is how he acts? Maybe you’re just reading too much into it; Miguel always gave you homework advice. Perhaps this is just him doing that, but your horny brain is misinterpreting… But just in case….

You look into his eyes, seeing that once warm brown now, has a tinge of red to them. “How do I know you won’t rat on me to my brother? Get me in trouble?” 

“Let’s just say I can keep a secret… troublemaker.” 

Troublemaker? You could be a troublemaker if he’s going to be the one that’s going to spank-

No, No, No! Off limits! Brother’s best friend, I don’t care if he’s built like a god and has a nose that you would pay good money to grind against. You can’t be the one to stick your neck out. Maybe Miguel is just a flirt now; all talk, but it doesn’t mean it. Off limits!

While your brain can still form some rational thought, you rush off to bed before Miguel can notice the blush rising to your face. As you make it to your door, you think you see Miguel leaning back to look down the hall at you with a smirk. Being a sane person you quickly scramble through your door and slam it shut, you go and flop down in your bed, cursing your brother for having brought with him Miguel. Out of all his friends, he had to get the one who makes your insides scream. 

Now here you sit, completely forgetting about the book in your hands as you stare at Miguel, looking so damn distracting! You know you shouldn’t be staring at him, but watching him running shirtless with his bulging biceps, massive chest shining in a sheen of sweat, and his flexing abs. Don’t even get started on his ass and legs in his swimsuit. You quickly slam your face in your book; stop sexualizing him… off-limits…off limits! 

Though you never were one to have good self-control. So, peering up from your book, you look at him. Sweat has never looked so good. 

Miguel just looked so effortless in his movements, and from the looks of the others staring, you’re not the only one to think this. Something in your chest tightens with that thought, the thought of him swarmed by admirers. For as long as you have known him, you have seen how people trip over themselves to fawn over him, but he always remained single from what you knew… you are sure he has had girlfriends before, but every time he was around you… he didn’t bring one up, he always was single, or at least appearing to be.

Then lost in your staring, his eyes meet yours.

You want to blame the sudden rush of heat to your face on the summer heat, but you know it’s from him… that same auburn gaze that always makes your stomach flutter and your insides ache. 

Miguel watches you as he pushes back his sweat-drenched hair before he lets a smile form on his full lips and gives you a slight wave. You work up the nerve to wave back, then quickly hide behind your book again. You’re stuck rereading the same line over and over, trying to hold onto the words, but that smile and those eyes…

Perhaps another peek won’t hurt…

Going for it, you take another look and see your brother, Miguel, and two pretty girls. The girls are all perky and smiles as they chat, something your brother is eating up, while Miguel has returned to being stoic—his ever-trustworthy defense mechanism. 

Looking away, you’re going through a swell of emotions. Well, more like one bitter emotion…

Jealousy…

You have as prided yourself on being a supportive girl; when you see a girl shooting her shot, you always wish silent good luck for them, but right now, seeing them talking to Miguel… It’s making you feel bitter. In no way is Miguel yours, hell he’s off limits for what you’re concerned, but watching this… hurts. This is ridiculous. Jealousy? Really? With a sigh you try to just forget it, though your skin is feeling hot, and you’re fighting the urge to stare.

To calm yourself, you place your book to the side and strip off your cover-up, the material that was once comfortable now irritating. You hadn’t planned on swimming or being out of your cover-up, so of course you make this the day you wear your smallest bikini. It’s funny how things always turn out like that. Stripping off the material, you instantly feel some relief. However, you have that distinct feeling of someone looking at you, watching you. 

With a glance, you see Miguel looking over everyone’s heads to make eye contact with you again…

Getting back to your book and swallowing down your jealousy, you keep your eyes on your book to keep yourself out of trouble. Finally, after a bit, when you're just getting lost in the text, there’s a nudge on your leg. 

“Uhhggg, please tell me you didn’t come here just to sit around.” Narrowing your eyes at the complaining source, you see your brother nagging you. 

You look down at your book, “You enjoy your time your way; I will enjoy mine my way.” 

Your brother rolls his eyes before grabbing his water bottle, “Goes to the beach and doesn’t swim or play soccer with her big bro. Are you depressed or something?” 

More like irritated… and frustrated… 

Before you can give your rebuttal, Miguel silences Your brother by bouncing the soccer ball on his head, “Stop messing with her.” 

Your brother, as dramatic as ever, holds his head and whines, “Ouch! When did you get so overprotective?” 

Miguel looks surprised and almost guilty for a moment before the mask comes back. “I’m not overprotective; just… let the kid relax like she wants.” 

KID?!

As soon as the words leave his lips, they are ringing in your ears. A kid? He’s older than you, sure, but calling you kid? What the hell? Is that how he sees you? You don’t know what’s the worst label: best friends little sister, or kid? 

Your brother pats your head, “Aw, got to be nice to the baby!” 

The words sting deeper. It’s not like you’re not used to your brother’s teasing; that’s actually how you two play with each other and show affection, but today…

You quickly stand, swatting his hand away. Your brother pauses and looks at you, confused. “Wow, what’s your damage?”

“I’m not in the mood…” You bite back, grab your bag, and walk off. 

“Where are you going?!” 

“None of your business!” 

You’re not even sure where you are going, but with your chest burning with embarrassment and annoyance, you just don’t want to be somewhere you’re labeled as a kid. 

You ended up at the concession stand to get some ice cream. Okay, not precisely screaming, mature lady. But your irritation at the situation is reaching a peak, and you need a nice cold comfort snack to cool you down.  

A kid… he sees you as a kid, you’re a woman in college, and he calls you a kid… and here you thought he was staring at you. Fooling yourself to think he’s interested. Looking down at yourself, you feel worse, wearing this bikini revealing your body secretly hoping to grab his attention. Ugh! Maybe you should go home, hide in your room till they leave… And why is this line moving so sl-

Suddenly, the feeling of a giant hand grabbing you close startles you. You’re pulled into what feels like a brick wall. Looking up at the sudden grabber, you see that familiar strong jaw and that dark wavy hair, but not his gaze. No, Miguel is looking off at a nearby table at a group of guys who are visibly avoiding eye contact and sweating bullets. 

You look between them for a few more minutes before you ask the million-dollar question, “What are you doing?” 

Miguel doesn’t take his eyes off the group, “Just... keeping an eye on you…”

This only seems to piss you off more; now he’s watching over you like you can’t handle yourself.

You push yourself out of Miguel’s hold, getting his attention to your huffy face, “What’s your problem?”

“I don’t need a babysitter!” You bite back. 

Miguel furrows his eyebrows at you, “I didn’t say you did!” he says, equally frustrated.

“Then stop treating me like I’m some kid!”

Miguel looks at you, confused, before he remembers what he said. “Look… I didn’t mean it like that.”

Before Miguel can finish, he’s being pushed past, you’re doing your best to show how thoroughly pissed off you are. You ignore him the best you can as he walks after you. Trying to ignore how his voice makes your skin tingle as he says your name. But right now, you can’t focus on that. You’re just wanting to slip away and hide! What you were not expecting as you slipped into one of the colorfully painted private changing sheds was for Miguel to follow behind you.

Miguel locks the door behind himself, and you groan. “I was trying to get away from you.”

“Will you at least listen to what I have to say? And stop acting like a brat?”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, so now I’m a brat!”

Miguel continues to get irritated with you, and you’re not listening, so he has to listen to your ranting. You go one about how you're not a kid, how they ruined your summer vacation, and what was the deal at the concession stand.

Miguels finally had enough. If you won’t listen to you he will just have to take the risk and show you.

So, during your rant, you feel two large hands gently grabbing your face. The gentleness of the touch sends currents of desire through your body. His eyes are steady on yours as he watches you lose your words, and your anger die down. Slowly, his thumb moves from your jaw to trace over your lips softly.

“Can you pause for a minute so I can kiss you?” 

You didn’t have to say yes; all you had to do is close your eyes and stand on your tiptoes to let him know you want it as badly as he does—to kiss him.

Miguel touches his lips to yours; their soft fullness blurs your thoughts. All that tingling turns into a back-arching static as Miguel guides you through the kiss. The intensity of the kiss grows with every second, with every careful caress, and as Miguel finally presses his warmth against you, you’re fully lost in him—lost in each other.

The feel of Miguel’s hands dropping to your hips makes your lips part with a gasp, allowing Miguel to slip in his tongue. The taste of him was completely intoxicating, making your thighs tighten and your pussy get wetter with every pass of his experienced tongue.

 Before he can completely lose himself in your kiss, he quickly turns you around so his chest is pressed against your back, and his hard cock is against your ass.

Miguel brings his lips to the shell of your ear, his warm breath softly panting over your skin, making you lean into him. Reaching behind you, you grab a hold of his dark hair between your fingers.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the second I saw you again.” he whispers in your ear.

Miguel slowly moves his large hand to the hem of your bottoms, his fingers teasing the material,

“Then... I’m forced to look at you in this tiny thing, which is driving me even more crazy.”

You can hardly think coherently as you let out a trembling whine, “Crazy…”

Miguel lets out a low purring hum as he slips his finger under the material, his fingertip softly teasing your slick folds. Tempting you to beg. How badly you want to beg... but the feeling of his rough fingers on your soft flesh as your hips slightly rolling against him. It’s all the begging Miguel needs (or that he can handle...) before he finds your slit and starts to tease your opening.

You can’t help but squirm, sick of the teasing and needing to feel him. With a shuddering pled, Miguel finally gives in to his lust, and your lust, and he sips in his finger. The stretch makes you rise to your toes, and your breath gives, the feeling of that curling pressure making you want more. Miguel presses his lips to your neck, his erection growing harder the deeper his digit goes. Miguel can’t help but grind his clothed cock against your ass as he whispers sweet words into your skin. Then right as your pussy is adjusting to his thick finger, he adds another, pushing in deep, all the way down to his rough knuckles. Your sticky arousal dripped down his thick fingers and pooled into his palm.

A sheen of sweat forms on your skin that Miguel eagerly licks up from your neck. Your core is starting to burn, and right as you think you can’t take anymore, his other hand comes down and starts rubbing your clit. Your legs tremble, and you begin to lose yourself in the feeling. Miguel’s breath matches your own as you start to approach that eye-crossing pleasure…

You feel yourself clenching on him, your whole body quivering. This feels like a dream: Miguel, the man you have been silently pining for, is touching you... kissing you... something he has equally wanted as much as you. The girl who was always so close... but off limits... Though now, you both couldn’t take it anymore how you needed each other…

Right as your bottoms are dropping to the floor and a moan is breaking from your throat, Miguel’s lips are on your rapid plus... then a ringing...

You both pause, gazing at each other, then at your bag thrown in the corner during the start of your rant. The ringing continues. You both knew who it was, but you didn’t want to leave this moment. At this moment, you two didn’t have to hide your wants, but if you didn’t answer, your brother would come looking.

Begrudgingly, you two part, with an irritated groan from the both of you. Bottoms back on your reaching for your bag, but your wrist is caught by Miguel before you can pick it up. Looking up at him confused, you see that classic stoic look,

“Wha-”

“I don’t want this to stop here.”

You’re completely dumbfounded. Here he is, the man you want saying the thing you want. “What if...” You don’t finish the sentence or want to think of any possible consequences.

Your Phone is still ringing, but you’re too entranced by him. Miguel leans his forehead against yours, “Be sneaky with me, trouble...”

Your summer plans might not be completely ruined after all…

“Think about it... and get back to me... Miguel gives you a chaste kiss, and before you know it, your bag is in your hands, and he exits the changing room. 

In your Miguel daze, you answer your Phone, reassuring your brother that you’re no longer mad and that you and Miguel are on your way back.

[atxxzist]

spring in our hearts | c.s

summary: the spring where you finally fall in love and experience everything that comes with it; the good and the bad

pairing: choi san x f!reader

genre: angst, slice of life, slowburn, romance, fluff?

word count: 21.4k

pink.

everything outside is turning pink. the petals fallen from the cherry blossom trees sweeping the streets as the wind carries it away with the cold chill, making the arrival of spring feel so much more real.

pink has always reminded you of love though your best friend tells you to not think about it often. he believes you're horrible at it and has a shallow view on it.

you wouldn't say you're horrible if you don't exactly have the experience for it, your only romantic relationship ever was freshman year of college with a boy from english who found you cute but broke it off after only 3 months because he thought you weren't interested.

yeosang still brings it up occasionally because only texting a boy when they texted you and telling them you could only hang out once a week isn't the way to show someone you do like them.

you thought it was quite the statement coming from yeosang because he wasn't much of a prize either before his current relationship that finally managed to last longer than 6 months.

but he think he has finally found the one. he's sure of it. and maybe he's right about you being horrible to some extent because you wouldn't understand or know the feeling of when someone is just right.

you still don't get how your uncle was willing to move halfway across the country for the 'love of his life', leaving everything he knew behind in hope of making it work, or how your mother married your father against her parents wishes although you know him to be a great man.

even the compromises both yeosang and grace have to make can be hard to wrap your head around, but yeosang always says every time that once you meet that person, you will understand.

"this seat taken?"

your thoughts are broken and your neck snaps away from the window and its petal shower to the voice beside that takes your breath away momentarily because though he's just standing there in his morning hair, grey hoodie, and sweatpants, he looks absolutely out of place in this small cafe.

you shake your head, a knot forming in your throat the longer you stare at this stranger.

"i'll take it, if that's okay with you."

"go ahead," you assure, no idea why you're so captivated by this stranger you've known for less than a minute, eyes unable to leave as he removes his backpack to place in the seat next to him and finally takes the seat across from you.

you clear your throat, scanning the surrounding and just noticing how packed it has gotten within the few minutes you were out before looking back down to the half finished sketch on the table.

"you go there?"

the question pulls your head back up, meeting eyes once again with this stranger who has now comfortably seated himself, confused as to what he's talking about until he points with his chin to the sweater you're wearing that has your school logo plastered all over it.

you let another second of silence slip through before answering in your most friendliest tone because you don't usually get people trying to start conversations often, or at all.

"oh, yes," you say. "it was a shirt my friend didn't want."

you regret the words as soon as they leave, feeling like you wanna smack ur head onto the table because you don't know why you needed him to know that.

you really are not big on school spirits or whatever, but yeosang had offered it to you after he bought a size too small.

and this stranger is probably able to sense your nervousness just now that he attempts to giggle it off, dimples emerging from his cheeks all of a sudden that you can't keep your eyes off of.

you've seen a fair share of good looking guys in your lifetime, but this dude might just be at the very top and you're thinking the only obvious reason he'd even wanna sit with you is because all the other seats were taken.

"well that's nice of them," he says with a warm smile. "it's a well designed shirt."

you nod slowly at that.

"i guess so."

"i just transferred the beginning of this year so i just thought it was cool to run into someone alike."

"oh?" your pitch piques with a unique kind of interest. "y-you also go there?"

"yes. junior, going onto senior next semester. you?"

"same..." you answer, fighting the tiniest smile that wants to break out because what were the chances the two of you are the exact same age, and it's not like you plan on seeing him after this, but to hear how big the possibilites are is a little crazy.

he chuckles, one hand running over his disheveled hair as you're sure the same thing is also going through his mind.

"and then what?" yeosang asks, after you finish the retelling of your encounter with the incredibly cute and kind boy from the cafe.

"what?" you repeat, one eyebrow raised.

"what happened after?" he states, as if asking the obvious while spinning around in the computer chair that belongs to his girlfriend.

"i had to go to class," you answer, unfazed and oblivious much to yeosang's frustration which is why he wanna facepalm right then and there.

"you didn't even ask for his number?"

you shake your head. "no."

"i bet you don't even know his name," he says only sarcastically but he would be right.

"i don't."

you watch in bafflement as yeosang continues to sigh and complain before grace comes bursting through the door with the two boxes of pizza.

"you won't believe what your girl just told me," yeosang opens his big mouth and tells on you the second he can, prompting grace to hum in curiosity because she's just as equally nosy.

"what happened?" she says, placing the boxes on the stand next to the door.

"little miss over here had a cute boy actually talk to her and didn't even ask for his number nor his name," yeosang spews, accusation in his tone like you just committed a crime. "and worst of all, she lost the pen i got her for christmas."

grace gasps in response and plops down next to you as her weight makes the bed sink.

you roll your eyes, dismissing the last comment but going on to defend your name, "okay. you're being dramatic. it's not like i want him to be my boyfriend. i just happened to meet someone pleasant and i'm okay with the idea that nothing more will come from it."

your best friend shakes his head in disapproval and mutters, "you anti-romantic."

"and where did you meet this boy again?" grace asks.

"the cafe i usually go to."

"maybe you'll run into him again." she shrugs.

"maybe," you utter lowly. "but it's ok. like i said, i just thought it was a nice encounter and had to tell yeosang about it but if i knew he was gonna make a big ass deal, i would've just told you."

"excuse you," yeosang chimes in, "i was just looking out for you. you need to get yourself a boyfriend or at least a friend of your own so you won't be cockblocking all the time."

"first of all, i did get myself a friend," you say, your voice a type of snarky, "but you had to go and make her your girlfriend."

yeosang scoffs, the topic making rounds once again and proceeds to stop spinning himself to churn out another comment to annoy you.

"well maybe she became your friend because she was always meant to be my girlfriend."

you met grace as soon as you stepped foot onto campus given she was your literal roommate, and it only took a couple days to become comfortable with each other because the girl was so friendly and welcoming unlike anyone you've ever met before.

it wasn't until a week later that you considered the two of you actual friends, taking in the fact she was someone you saw yourself sticking by even in the far future.

but it only took another month for yeosang to see what you saw in her and snatched her away, recalling how fast their relationship went from friendly to romantic, you were so annoyed with yeosang because if anything went awry, it would've costed you the first friend you've made besides him.

but here's to them going on 2 years and a half so you really hope yeosang doesn't fuck it up because you think with his track records, you're in the right to have some doubts.

ignoring his response, you go on, "and second of all, your bitch ass invited me so how am i cockblocking?"

grace lets out half a chuckle and stands up to head for the boxes earlier, turning to the both of you.

"you both are hangry. pizza?" she offers.

yeosang takes a slice while you shake your head, telling her you're not hungry right now.

"my point is," yeosang continues, "it was the perfect chance and you completely missed it, but it's whatever now. i summoned you today because i've only seen your hermit ass like three times ever since the start of the term."

"well, yes. i wanted to focus on my studies."

"you need to learn how to relax once in a while," he says, with actual sympathy this time, "which is why i think you're gonna love what i have to say next."

but it just mellows out into an almost sarcastic-like tone, as if he knows you're gonna hate the idea but he's still persistent to go through with it.

"what?" you say, unamused.

he adjusts himself in the chair and puts the barely bitten pizza on standby as grace stares in anticipation because you're sure she already knows exactly what he's gonna say.

"so like, remember yunho?" he squeaks.

it takes a raised brow and maybe two seconds, but you manage to remember, blurting, "jeong yunho?"

"yes!" he nods way too excitedly.

all you really know about jeong yunho was that you've met him probably only twice and had less than a conversation when you did, though not failing to recall how soft-spoken and kind he also was.

"it's his birthday... well, technically his birthday already passed, but he's gonna be holding a late party to celebrate it and i might've maybe told him you're gonna come," yeosang announces, ending the ment with a stupid goofy smile like that's gonna lessen the impact.

"what the fuck, yeosang?"

you scowl, and grace jumps in, "i told him not to but he didn't wanna listen."

"it's a great opportunity!" he cowers back, high-pitched and all as he tries standing his ground.

"you know how much i hate parties!" you yell back just as loud.

"you've been to one!"

"one too much!"

"oh come on, y/n!" he slumps back in the chair staring at you like a disappointed parent. "you only have a year left after this semester. do you really not even wanna have some fun?"

"no. i really don't," you deadpan, much to an eyeroll and sigh from him while grace just sits by idly watching.

"it's not gonna be one of those crazy weird frat parties, i promise. just a house party with close friends, yunho said. plus, there's gonna be plenty of cute guys there."

"good for you. maybe you can find someone there," you say unseriously much to a giggle from grace but to an unamused yeosang because he seriously mean it.

he wants you out of your comfort zone at least just once and go and talk to people you might potentially like, having stayed in your own bubble for so long.

"please?"

the desperation makes you fight the urge to give in but you're losing, only huffing in annoyance.

"what happened to 'you're horrible at this romantic shit'?" you cite him word for word, throwing it back in his face.

"that's cause you really are. plus, you were being annoying at the time. but still doesn't mean i don't want you to try."

you think you're gonna regret. you know you're gonna regret it, but a part of you want to do it just for your best friend so you cave.

"i'll go. but if someone pukes on me again, i'm making you clean that shit with your own mouth."

the party starts at 7 p.m. sharp but yeosang's late birthday gift run leaves you guys almost an hour late, lightly knocking on yunho's door at 7:54 p.m. expecting for the house to be flooded with even more people you don't know but you're surprise to see a couple familiar faces in the background when the door comes apart.

"hey!" the tall birthday boy greets all of you, a lady by her side and arm wrapped around his who you can only assume to be his girlfriend sends a friendly smile the same time.

"come in, come in," he ushers, the three of you stepping inside to the much humble and comforting interior, nothing alike a stereotypical party setting and it's already managed to be the better party you've attended.

it's homey, a bit classy, and you should've expected it because the house is also in a relatively safe part of the neighborhood.

"you guys made it!" yunho welcomes again, his voice loud and excited, eyes traveling between your friends before it eventually stops on you.

"y/n, right?" he says, your name almost foreign sounding coming from him.

you nod in response and the taller boy smiles in relief, not typical of him to forget names but also not wanting to mess up and offend you.

"glad you could make it. i was afraid you couldn't because yeosang went on and on about how much parties scares you."

you narrow your eyes at your best friend and his habit of oversharing before a loose chuckle escapes.

"did he now?"

"he did," yunho says, also a small giggle out of him as if trying to ease the mood and make you comfortable. "but don't worry about it. it's not gonna be crazy, i'm sure of that."

"i appreciate it," you thank him, touched by the kind gesture of assurance although the man barely knows you. "i'll try to enjoy myself."

again, you've only seen yunho on two occasions before this and you can barely even recall the second one, only seeing him in passing along with others currently at the party when you'd go seek out yeosang inbetween classes.

yeosang smirks from beside you, happy and impressed from how you're already easing yourself into the situation, clearing his throat and deciding it's his turn.

"this is for you, birthday boy," yeosang says, presenting the gift in his hand proudly as if he didn't panic just almost 2 hours ago when you brought up if he was gonna get yunho something.

"appreciate it, man. i'm gonna put it with all the other gifts to open later."

he takes it into his hold, attention shortly pulled away by another knock at the door.

"i'm gonna get that. you guys make yourself at home," yunho says, excusing himself with his lady still at armrest.

"see, that wasn't so bad," yeosang takes the first chance he gets as soon as yunho's out of earshot, nudging you by the shoulder much to an eyeroll in return.

"don't speak so fast, we haven't even made it past 10 minutes."

"it's gonna be awesome," he states, convinced of his own words. "you, grace, and all the other girlies can hang out or something while i'm gonna go chat it up with the boys."

a visible annoyance paints grace's expression as she huffs, "if that's the case, i'm coming with. you seem to get stupider with every party."

a couple minutes later and a banter between the lovebirds about how reckless yeosang gets when he's drunk, you wind up in the downstairs bathroom of yunho's house, regretting that you didn't take grace's advice of peeing before coming.

at least the bathroom's nice but you don't wanna have to go out of your way and look for your friends in midst of all staring eyes. you already had enough of those making your way here.

the two had said they wouldn't leave you and it's best you guys stick together, but when you finally spot yeosang, he's already chatting it up with someone new when he was talking to wooyoung before--someone you also don't know well except the fact he's loud and extroverted the last time you met him.

grace is nowhere to be found and you're thinking whether you should just go look for her or insert yourself into the conversation yeosang and this stranger who's only visible from the back of his head, is having.

you don't get to make a choice because yeosang is quick to make it for you, sneaking over this person's shoulder and locking eyes with yours, one hand in the air motioning you to come as if you're his pet while his other is now occupied with a red cup.

you can hear him spewing from a distant as you make your way there, telling the person before him, "oh right, san, this is--"

"--strawberry peach?" the voice not belonging to yeosang says, so strange but familiar and recent at the same time, it stops you dead in track once you meet his eyes.

"strawberry peach lemonade?"

you pick your head up at what sounds like a question, following his gaze to your drink on the table, answering a mere, "yes."

"you came to a cafe to get lemonade?" he tease, delivery a type of amused that would've offended you if not for the smile on his lips.

"what's wrong with that?"

he snickers lowly and shakes his head before going back to his book and muttering, "nothing."

"oh?" yeosang is as confused as the both of you. "you two know each other?" because very rarely do you ever know anyone before he does.

"we met the other day," san tells your friend, your lips tight and body too in shock to answer properly. "at a cafe. she got the strawberry peach lemonade."

"oh. oh!" yeosang's volume turns an octave, a realization hitting him and making the corners of his lips go up because this is the guy you were going on about who was so cute and left such an impression you had to tell him when he knows you to not even look twice a guy's direction.

"thank god," you friend says. "i was afraid she went by some alias on the internet i wasn't aware of."

the comment makes both you and san freeze in place before a chuckle comes hurling out of him though he was fighting to bite it back.

you don't blame him because why would you when your best friend just implied he thought it was your possible camgirl name.

"you're fucking stupid," you hiss, a mix between laughing it off and feeling extremely embarrassed in front of the sole person you didn't think you'd ever meet again and this is how you're officially reintroduced.

"well," yeosang exhales, quick to brush off the remark because he has other things in mind, "i'm gonna go look for grace."

you knew it was coming and that he was gonna try to get the two of you alone but you didn't think it'd come this fast, your palms already starting to sweat and your feet feels like it's gonna make a run for it.

"i'll catch you guys later. you two have fun," yeosang bids goodbye as san returns one while you're just standing and thinking of all the ways to get back at him if this doesn't go well.

"a bit crazy, isn't it?"

that soft, melodic tone pulls you away from yeosang's walking figure and to his eyes that could almost melt you on the spot, that strange sensation settling in the pit of your stomach from his lingering gaze.

"definitely a bit crazy," you manage to say after composing yourself, because you do wanna talk to him and not scare him away, but you're feeling a lot more self-conscious than usual.

but whereas you cave easily under stressful situations, san treads through them with confidence, breaking the ice by asking a question.

"that guy, yeosang, you guys together?"

and if you were in the middle of drinking something, you would've spat it right out at such question.

"definitely not," you deny passionately, though it wouldn't be the first; you and yeosang getting the accusation from time to time because you two happen to be of opposite sex and are actually just friends.

"i'd rather lose an arm before picking to settle with him," you add.

you love your best friend, you do. he's always there for you when needed and has been with you through everything, but he's also messy, lazy, and probably the most disgusting person you know.

grace is a soldier for putting up with it for almost three years now and you don't know how she does it.

san chuckles at the response and the pure offense on your face.

"why not? sounds like an overall decent dude."

"i've known him since middle school. he's more a friend than anything and sometimes like a brother. plus, he has a girlfriend, grace."

"ah," san coos, "so you're the friend. he did say he came with his girlfriend and a friend but he thought his friend was trying to hide."

you shouldn't have expected any better from yeosang but you still wanna kick when you do see him, opting to calmly explain yourself, "was just taking a while in the restroom, that's all."

though you're not sure if it was necessary to address that, your cheeks burning a light pink after that san takes notice to.

he giggles it off and you're glad it made him smile at least.

"if i knew i was gonna meet you here, i'd bring your pen, but i don't think neither of us were expecting such coincidence."

your eyes swell a kind of surprise, almost stuttering when you finally speak, "you got my pen?"

you had quickly packed all your things, afraid you were gonna be late for the next class and you were so sure you got everything. it wasn't until you got back to the dorms that you noticed the stylo sketch pen yeosang got you for christmas was missing.

it didn't take long for it to be considered lost forever because there wasn't much hope of finding it even if you went back, but you didn't think it'd wind up in the hands of the boy you met that day.

"yeah, sorry if you came back looking for it. i had noticed you left it and thought it was rude if i didn't do anything. maybe that's why fate sent me here today," he says, snickering at the last comment, though at this point blaming it on fate doesn't seem so crazy.

"thank you," you tell him quietly, moved by the consideration but volume falling behind the progressing loud music though he can still make out your lips.

"no problem." he smiles.

and you don't know how it's possible but he looks even better than last time, the black attire and slicked back hair a contrast to the other day but when you speak to him, it all still feels the same... the slightly mischievous but easygoing personality turning away your initial worries and nervousness until you can't even remember why you had them.

the only thing left to weigh heavy is his usage of 'fate', the impression that you two meeting today was because of destiny and something already set in stone, but you might be overthinking.

"do you wanna go outside?" he asks, practically shouting at this point because the music has completely drowned out his voice.

he can tell you didn't hear him by how you confusingly squint your brows and unintentionally lean closer, to which he returns, whispering into your ear that shouldn't have sparked whatever it did.

you pull away to nod hesitantly and follow him out the backdoor, your throat clogged and body almost frozen if you weren't walking, glad he isn't looking because never in your life has a man smell that good before.

it's probably not the best idea to be away from your friends with someone you barely know, but you also don't have any reasons not to trust san... for now.

the spring air hugs your skin and you shiver slightly, only a thin cardigan to protect from the cold that makes san second guess coming out here.

"if it's too cold, we can go back inside. i just thought maybe you'd prefer somewhere where we could actually hear each other."

you shake your head but throw in a small smile to show you appreciate the consideration.

"it's okay. it is definitely way too loud inside there."

"yeah," he agrees, "and whoever's phone is connected to the bluetooth has a horrible taste in music." the now muffled audio a rock song you cannot make out the lyrics to even back at the house.

you laugh at the remark, the both of you staring into nothingness but yunho's backyard fences, yet it feels nice. safe. comfortable.

"i bet it's yeosang. he puts on the shittiest songs," you talk bad behind your friend's back, getting a giggle from san that makes it worth it.

"by the way, what did yeosang say your name was again?" he asks, turning to you with his full attention after realizing this whole time he doesn't even know your name.

"y/n," you tell him, locking eyes and ignoring the sensation in your stomach again from being this close and alone to someone who looks like that.

"y/n." you listen to him repeat your name under his breath. "you definitely look like a y/n."

the comment makes the corners of your lips turn, telling him he sounds so silly.

"it's san, right?" it's your turn to ask, sure you got it correct because yeosang's voice is loud, annoying, and hard to miss.

"yes," he confirms. "san choi, or choi san."

"choi san," you mumble, "it definitely has a beat to it."

and you're both laughing together the next, it doesn't feel real how easy being with him is. how, you were so hesitant about showing up and not being able to talk to anybody and now you're actually enjoying yourself, the state of your friends completely forgotten.

you don't usually wanna know many people but you wanna know more about san, every expressions he makes and any words he says paid attention and listened to carefully, you hope you won't scare him off just yet.

the conversation taking place after feels never-ending from him telling you about the transfer process to sharing majors and learning he specializes in math, you don't even realize you've both been standing in the cold for a while until a voice calls out to you.

"y/n!"

you look over your shoulder to find grace standing there, only half her body out the door and moving her eyes from you to san, the slight surprise when she sees you're with someone.

"there you are," she says. "i thought you had left without telling us."

you're now fully facing her with san following, watching from the side as you two carry on.

"what happened?" you ask.

she sighs before telling you it's yeosang, not to anyone's surprise.

"he's stupid drunk already and picking fights," she adds, getting second embarrassment again just thinking about how mad her boyfriend had got when he found out wooyoung had gotten yunho the same gift.

it wasn't anyone's fault; yeosang just loses half his braincells when he's under the influence.

you shake your head unamused and swipe san a glare, apologizing and telling him you have to go.

"wait," san stops you before you could completely leave him standing alone in the cold. "your pen. can i still give it back to you?"

you're standing there almost starstrucked-like and nodding your head, stuttering at the fact he wants to see you again.

"y-yes."

"perfect." he smiles. "how about the cafe again? we're both familiar with the place."

"that'll work," you say. "this monday?"

"this monday."

"cool. i'll see you then, san."

"what? no way!" grace yells, after you finish telling her about san and how crazy the coincidence is.

"yeah... i didn't really think i'd see him again," you say softly while settling down on the edge of your bed with grace across in hers, your heart doing a turn just thinking about the exchange between you and san again.

"you're blushing," grace snaps you out, meeting her gaze and batting your lashes.

"what? i'm not," you deny, adjusting yourself in the seat like that's gonna make her less suspicious.

"no. you are." she giggles. "you like him."

the bold statement makes your eyes go wide, shaking your head and denying the accusation on the spot because you can't possibly like someone you just met.

"i don't even know the guy," you tell her, trying to convince her as much as you are to yourself, hoping she won't catch how tense you're sounding at just the mere topic of this guy.

"so?" she shrugs, leaning back with her hands to the sheet. "you can't know a person within one night. finding out about the person is all part of the journey to eventually, a relationship."

you just learned the guy's name and now she's already bringing up the possibility of a relationship.

"believe me, y/n." she sits back up, intensely locking eyes with you and voice stern as if schooling a child. "the almost 3 years i've known you, i've never seen you look at anyone like that."

"you're being dramatic," you say, but the girl is still persistent, repeating herself and assuring you san is special.

"you're meeting him monday, right?"

"yes." you nod, a part of you still nervous but also excited to be seeing him again.

"tell me how it goes!"

when monday rolls around, you don't wanna think grace is right, but from how your heart is pitter pattering in your chest and you even glanced an extra time at the mirror before coming, you're afraid she just might be.

you don't have class till noon, and though he didn't specify the time, you just assumed it was around the same as last time, making yourself comfortable and occupied by scrolling through your social feeds.

the opening of the cafe door is missed and you don't fully comprehend he's here until a small 'hi' pulls you from the screen, looking up as he smiles down at you and you're reminded of why it's so hard to look away from this man.

"hey," you greet as calm as your nerves allows you to.

he takes the seat across and settles his backpack the same as he did before, the smile on him never having left his face the entire time.

"no drinks or what?" he says, the slightly teasing tone lightening up the atmosphere.

"i wanted to wait till you get here," you tell him. "i thought it would be rude if i ordered ahead of time."

he chuckles and shakes his head.

"no worries. i would've understand, but i appreciate the consideration." there's a split second of silence before he continues, "tell me what you want, i can go order."

you hum and think as if you don't get the same thing everytime; san jumping in when you can't seem to make a choice.

"strawberry peach, right?" he asks, an eyebrow raised.

"strawberry peach," you confirm, reaching for your bag to give him the change. "here's--"

but he kindly interrupts you, waving it off and assuring he got it

"are you sure?" you ask, a kind of worry in your voice because you feel slightly bad he has to pay for your $3 drink.

"of course. i'll be back."

and he goes off with a smile; you catching the dimple poking out of his cheek before he left and you think it just might be your favorite thing about him... not that you're keeping track of others.

you thank him quietly when he returns, mind suddenly empty when it comes to topic although you two were just talking a few days ago like you were never gonna run out of things to talk about--then you remember.

"right... so my pen," you bring up, hoping it's not too straightforward but you really wanted to say something.

his face lights up, the realization hitting him as well.

"oh, right right. give me a sec," he says, pulling his backpack and digging through it before pulling out the sketch pen yeosang got you almost two christmas ago. "your pen."

he hands it to you and you accept it with the sincerest 'thank you' you could let out, playing with it in your hand because you did think the old thing was lost for good.

"don't forget it this time," he teases; your head picking up to let out a snicker.

"i won't."

he nods, staring at the pen you've still yet to put away and thinking back to what you were doing the last time you were here.

"you're an artist?" he asks, the question casting your eyes with a twinge of shyness at such wording.

you've never considered yourself an artist. if you did, you think it'd be an insult to actual artists.

"i draw and major in arts but i'm not an artist," you tell him with a shake of your head and a dry snicker this time.

"then you're an artist," he says, shrugging with the most nonchalant expression painting him.

you chuckle, continuing to deny such bold claim.

"just because someone cooks that also doesn't make them a chef."

"that's fair," he agrees, thinking the logic makes total sense. "but i'm sure your arts are amazing."

here's to sitting with probably the cutest guy you've ever met, and he's telling you you're amazing at the one thing you're passionate about and you're not sure how to feel about that.

"you haven't even seen my work," you say, the mischievous tone in this back and forth feeling more like a banter at this point.

"no. but i saw a glimpse," he defends, really set on the fact he thinks you are totally good at what you do even if you are correct about him not having seen the whole thing, "and i'm sure the actual work is amazing."

you reframe from rolling your eyes and bite at your lips instead so the smile doesn't slip, moving the discussion along because you're more interested about him than your unsatisfactory artist journey.

"so what do you do with you know... math?" you ask, trying to not sound ignorant on the topic but that's exactly how it came off.

thankfully, he finds it cute and laughs it off.

"i went into it because the people around me said i was good at it," he says, a bit unfazed and dull. "that's pretty much it, i guess." and ending it with a smile when he catches your gaze again.

"but do you enjoy it?"

there's a quick silence and san tilts his head slightly, quirking his lips to the side before answering.

"it's not bad. if anything, it's been easy, so i'm glad for that at least."

you nod, smiling in return.

"that's good. only one more year and we'll be done."

"yeah," he says, letting out a loose chuckle after. "i can't wait. there's something i want to do after, but for now, we'll have to see what happens."

and you wanna ask him more about it; what is it that he wants to do after and just more about him in general, but you have taken notice of the clock sitting behind him and the fact you only have 20 minutes to get to campus.

you kindly thank him again for returning the pen as well as the drink, and in the midst of all turmoil and conflicted feelings because you don't know how to ask if you're gonna see him again, he's the one who fortunately suggests you guys exchange numbers.

you leave the shop with one last wave to him and his handsome smile ingrained in your head for the rest of the day.

but you're still not sure you like him just yet. not until summer.

after almost six hours, a few rest stops, and long stretches of desert roads, the heat of the much southern california is felt along with the sight of palm trees spread out everywhere.

"we've arrived, ladies," yeosang announces, finally parked into the hotel's parking lot after missing at least two turns before he found the place.

as soon as you step out, the summer air is annoying and you wish you hadn't wore long sleeves. but you like summer because it always marked the end of a semester and then the beginning of a new one--the fact you're so close to almost graduating.

you were planning to not do anything all summer, just eager for some rest and break away from the stress that came with school and your part-time job, but yeosang was quick to scrap all plans and make some of his own.

said his friends were gonna go down south and out of town for a whole week and invited him, and he wanted you and grace to come along since it would be the last summer break you all would share before graduating.

you told him you would come as long as he would be driving and he didn't have any problems. he thinks you and grace are terrible drivers though you would say otherwise.

"and who are these friends of yours again?" you ask, taking your luggage out of the trunk and staring up into the hotel you guys would be staying at, amazed at the amount of floors the building holds.

"you know," yeosang replies, shutting the trunk after he's made sure nothing's left behind, "yunho, wooyoung, and some others at the party."

you hum at the vagueness of the answer, following both your friends to the hotel's lobby that has a mix of modernness but also slight tropical and beach vibes, the color scheme a combination of white, woodsy brown, and green.

after being given your room keys, you don't wanna do anything but lay down and rest for a bit though yeosang should be more tired than you, he still has enough energy to roam the rest of the hotel when grace asked.

your room is a single queen bed and has almost the perfect view to beach if not for the huge palm tree that happens to sit in front.

yeosang and grace had initially wanted just one room together to save on cost but you didn't wanna be that person, and especially the third wheel to everything, so you cut your losses.

it's gonna be hefty on your wallet but it's only for a week, and plus, you get your own privacy and space away from the eyes of your friends.

the late preparations and long drive left almost no free time, so instead, the night is spent on the rooftop restaurant of the hotel where grace wanted to eat at, and after finishing your meal, you excuse yourself to go shower and sleep first because you want to wake up early for breakfast.

--

you wind up in the dining room alone at 7:30 in the morning because both your friends moaned and groaned about it being too early.

your breakfast consists of two pancakes, scrambled eggs, a banana, and a cup of coffee; choosing to settle on a table in the far corner.

you watch the many guests go in and out of the dining room, also keeping yourself occupied with your phone while eating hoping to finish fast enough so you'll be able to go back upstairs to do your makeups and pick out an outfit since your friends want to go sightseeing later.

and you were doing pretty good keeping your eyes to the entrance of the dining room, but you must've missed their arrival, because as you go to shove a piece of pancake down your throat, the slight tap on your shoulder makes your head turn.

"san..." you say his name so naturally, it just instinctly rolling off your tongue.

you haven't seen him in a while, but now he's standing in front of you although you're almost 6 hours away from home.

"hey, y/n," he greets, the smile you also haven't seen in a while making all of that strange sensation come back as he takes the seat across from you.

"hey," you say, your shock now morphing into actual joy at the fact he's here. "what are you doing here?"

"wooyoung invited me," he answers, nodding off in a direction that your eyes shoot to, seeing wooyoung, yunho, and a couple others from the party just as yeosang said, huddled around an area of the room you can't believe you missed.

"oh," you mumble, as if all of this should've been expected and it's no surprise san is here too.

"and where are your friends? what are they doing to be leaving you alone like this?" his voice a mix of teasing but also concern, it's hard to tell which one is louder.

but you laugh, telling him your friends stayed up way too late last night and didn't wanna get up this early.

"i see." he nods. "well, good thing i found you." he smiles again, every single time making your heart strangely tight.

you didn't see san much after the cafe meeting, or at all. the both of you busy with either school, work, or other responsibilities, most of the interactions were limited to texting, and even then, it was hardly a daily occurence.

though you guys did exchange instagrams and he poked fun of you because your profile picture was a digital painting you did of yourself and you had 3 posts only--all of them also of art works, he at least complimented you.

said you have an amazing gift and all that even if you're still trying to believe it yourself, you appreciate the kindness.

"yeah," you say. "kind of crazy we were going on the same trip and didn't even know it."

the realization makes the both of you giggle in sync, the conversation and atmosphere so easy flowing, it's hard to believe you haven't talked to him face to face for a few months now.

"but again, we were kind of occupied with our own thing and all that," he tries reasoning. "but i'm glad you're here. it will be fun, you know. wooyoung they're all a little loud but i'm sure you got a friend to match the energy."

you nod, a smile on your lips almost the whole time and your food going cold because san just said he's glad you're here.

"oh for sure. we will fit just right in with yeosang."

it was a night where you and san texted for much longer than usual when he told you how him and wooyoung became friends. the boy younger than him by a few months but so much more extroverted and chaotic in every other way.

nonetheless, he said wooyoung is a great friend to have and he's grateful for the wonderful people he's met through him.

you were mostly focus on the initial surprise and shock of seeing san here, you didn't even realize he's sat down with you the entire time before he's even got anything to eat.

"you should probably go grab something," you tell him, your tone sweet and concern even if you've yet to really become close to this man.

he briefly checks over his shoulder to find his friends still occupied and not seated, shaking his head.

"i'll wait for them. besides, if i go, i'm afraid you're gonna try to run away."

you can't help the squint that takes over one of your eyebrows, the line between teasing, being friendly, and flirting blurring into one and you feel you're giving yourself too much credits for even thinking of the possibility of the last one.

but before you can say anything, a rather familiar and nice-sounding voice beats you to it.

"hey, y/n!"

it's yunho, face and body language as kind and welcoming as ever, and with his girlfriend wrapped around his arm who you've also learned from san, prefers her korean name, jiwon, over her american given one.

"hey!" you try to be enthusiatic as much as you allowed yourself to without the help of yeosang. this is usually his field of expertise.

they ask about your friends whereabouts the same as san, and you give the same response as they hum and nod in understanding.

"well it's perfect we ran into you here then," yunho beams. "we're thinking of hitting the pool this evening, you guys care to join?"

you're probably the worst person to ask out of your group, swimming not really being your thing and all, but you give yunho your words that you'll ask yeosang and grace first, guaranteeing the fact the two are gonna say yes.

they eventually excuse themselves and bid you goodbye, the process catching some of the other guys attention as they take notice to you and give out small waves before disppearing to get breakfast.

"awesome. i guess i'll see you then."

san snaps you back, meeting his gaze and throwing a smile that could melt you on the spot.

"we'll see," you mumble.

"i should probably leave you to finish your food then. you leaving soon?" he looks down at your plate and you follow, feeling almost embarrassed at the mess that you've only half ate.

"yeah. i think i'm good for breakfast." you chuckle lightly.

he pretends to pout, quirking one side of his lips.

"aww i'm sorry for distracting you. yeah i really should get going."

"oh no you're good. i'll just be on my way."

"alright. i'll see you later?"

"yeah, i'll see you later."

and with that, after watching him walk away as he bids one last farewell, you clear your table and head back upstairs; the encounter heavy on your mind as you start rummaging your luggage for an outfit.

"no no. you don't understand. you need the perfect swimsuit!"

grace's voice ring throughout the tiny store at the beachfront and you're regretting telling her san's gonna be there at all. because now, she's dead set on impressing san and making sure you wow him tonight.

currently, she's trying to convince you to give in to a black two piece that has the bottom hiked so high up your waist with barely any coverage for the buttocks, you think your father would disown you if he sees you in it.

yeosang distracts himself by the glass and hat sections, leaving you girls to talk amongst yourselves, though he doesn't shy away from passing snide remarks because he knows you even better than grace and that you're shopping way out of your comfort zone.

"girl, i'm looking for clothes to swim in, not to seduce him," you say annoyingly when she won't give up.

"you don't know that!" she squeaks, giving the two piece another once over. "you're gonna look totally hot in it!"

"then buy it for yourself." you cross your arms, narrowing your eyes at her. "i'm not wearing that in front of like what? 8 or something guys."

she frowns before dropping a loud, "fine!" placing the piece back on its rack and turning to you to mimick your posture. "you are such a pick me."

the comment makes you scoff, rolling your eyes at your best friend's antics.

"excuse you. just because i'm a lot more reserved and hesitant doesn't mean i want to be different or whatever society wants to paint us more shy girlies."

"yeah yeah," she brushes you off, waving in the air. the topic one you two already had one too many times. "but i won't need it for myself because i already brought a cute swimsuit from home."

"well that's great. then maybe we can just head back to the hotel," you say, delivery a type of sarcastic to play along but she clearly isnt very amused, pouting and scoffing at you the entire walk back.

"i don't wanna be the only one in a swimsuit!" she yells at you in the comfort of your hotel room, having came down a few minutes ago because she wanted to know what you're gonna wear.

but you dismiss and excuse her complaints with a roll of your eyes. "you'll be fine, grace. and even if, more power and attention to you."

little did you know you'd end up being the odd one out, finally showing up to the pool with your friends and seeing everyone in appropriate attire while you're out with a pair of gym shorts and a black t-shirt, having told your friends you're probably not gonna swim.

"hey guys!"

the voice just now belonging to hongjoong, who you recognize and remember the few occasions you happened to see him with yeosang. he's a year older and already graduated but is definitely the backbone of the group, yeosang said.

everyone already there greets all three of you, friendly smiles and welcoming body languages, the amount of people is quite overwhelming but you try your best to hide it, returning the gestures with a smile of your own.

some's sprawled on the lounge chairs, some already in the pool, and some sitting idly in the hot tub.

but you don't see him anywhere.

you didn't come for him in particular (if you did, you would've bought the two piece your friend so hard tried pushing). you came for your friend and the kindness of his other friend group, but your eyes do naturally search for him and you notice his absence immediately.

but you don't wanna ask. it just doesn't feel right to.

"well don't just stand there! get your butts in the pool!" wooyoung splashes the three of you as you flinch and instinctly try to protect the sketchbook you brought along in case your friends get pulled away by their extroverted activities and you don't have anything better to do.

"jung wooyoung! i'm gonna get you for that!" yeosang shouts, the boy's teasing doing exactly what he wanted as your friend jumps in the pool and chases after a giggly wooyoung.

grace chuckles beside you, pulling you by the wrist. "come on, let's go." but you're quick to stop and tell her you're gonna sit for a bit first.

she sighs but lets it go, threatening to get you wet and soak the sketchbook if you don't get in after a while.

you watch your friends and even if you're not the one having all the fun, the fact they look like they are makes you happy enough, shaking your head and giggling when you see grace and yeosang attempt to do a breath-holding contest or tries submerging the other's head into the water.

you made sure to choose the chair furthest from the pool because you don't want yeosang pulling anything funny.

a couple doodles and swimming competition between wooyoung and yeosang for the 4th time, the sudden voice in your ear makes the hair on your skin raise, flinching slightly to turn and meet his gaze.

he goes from expressionless to a smile that you almost want to poke his dimples for having the guts to show up this close.

and when he pulls away, asking what you're doing, you barely register his words because you're too busy trying to not drool over this man being shirtless and looking like the best art you've ever seen, making anything you've ever created pale in comparison.

but fortunately (or unfortunately), you don't get to dissect him for too long because you're more curious who the lady standing beside him is and why you haven't seen her before.

she's in a ruffle yellow swimsuit with sunglasses and a sunhat that goes perfectly with whatever aesthetic she was going for. and you think she looks like what grace probably had in vision for you when she wanted you to wow san.

"san! ashley! get over here!" you all snap to the call of hongjoong as he waves in the air from the pool, the water stopping at his armpit.

ashley.

"you coming with us?" san asks, his tone welcoming and inviting, but you're gonna sit this one out.

"i'm good," you answer with a small smile, and he quirks his lips to the side at that, dropping his shoulders at the answer before nodding.

"alright," he says. "but you can always join us whenever. if not, i hope you'll have fun," he refers to the sketchbook in your hands and you feel it sinking deep into your chest, a bit embarrassed by the fact but he just laughs it off.

"i'll see you," he bids, making his way to the others and guiding the new girl (to you) by the small of her back.

and you really try to focus on the sketch, your inspirations drawn from people, places, and things around you. the current sunset absolutely beautiful in its orange hue, but you can't miss the laughters and fun san is sharing with the new girl, and you don't miss how the more you're with this man, the more a type of longing blossoms.

how, everytime he's in sight, your eyes just naturally follows him. settles on him. like you just wanna look at him all day.

you shake the thoughts off, which becomes quite easy once yeosang and grace along with a couple others decides they're done for good, and seonghwa, the oldest of you all, suggests to end the night by sharing dinner together.

it's on him and hongjoong, he said.

the rooftop restaurant feels different this time in the company of others. you stick close to your friends and observe everyone else like a lost little puppy when you have nothing better to do.

it's loud and chaotic and you're struggling to keep up with everyone and everything, but you manage to catch the smile of san when grace starts going off about something embarrassing you did in freshmen year as revenge for not getting in the pool.

you shout and defend your name and dignity but it doesn't help much with yeosang jumping in, leading to a long night of teasing and bullying from your friends in the face of everyone as they laugh at the 'endearing' friendships you guys share.

and by the end of the night, you almost forgot about san or the fact you guys barely interacted. not until you're fresh out the shower and recovering your social battery that you get the first text from him in a while.

san: it's true the story your friend told?

you can't even help the chuckle that escapes, catching yourself and going on to reply.

y/n: 😭 i hate grace lmfao

san: it's okay😅 we all just casually poop our pants in the middle of the night

y/n: 🙄

san: kidding 😁

san: hey. i was thinking if you'd like to get breakfast together tomorrow?

san: im sorry we didn't get to talk a lot today. you looked so uncomfortable during dinner 😅

the comment flusters you, thinking about the fact san was watching and saw how out of place you really looked.

y/n: just not used to big crowds lol

san: i can see that

san: but it's okay. it'll just be us tmr 🙂

y/n: won't your friends be there?

san: nope. they dont like the food lol

san: how about urs? will they be coming?

y/n: most likely not. those two don't wake until almost noon

san: perfect lol. i'll see you then?

y/n: maybee 😀

and he probably didn't push too hard because it's almost like he knew you're gonna be there; waking up before it's even 7 and sitting at the same table from before, watching guests go in and out of the room hoping to catch the boy that sent you the text last night.

his face lights up the same as you when he enters, waving in the air and heading your direction, you really shouldn't feel so nervous but excited at the sight of him walking.

"hey!" he greets cheerfully, sliding into the seat across with a smile.

"good morning," you return, hands curled in your lap and happy he can't see them because you wonder what he'd think.

"how you'd sleep?" he ask the same time he combs over his morning hair, never in your life has someone looked so good doing so, you didn't even think it was possible.

"good," you manage to answer with composure. "and you?"

"alright." he shrugs. "wooyoung was just mostly drunk and annoying from last night's dinner."

a small giggle also laced with empathy escapes from you. "well i'm sorry to hear. i hope today will be better."

he nods. "hopefully." then realizing you haven't even gotten your food, talking in a concerned tone, "don't tell me you were waiting for me."

"i was," you say. "don't worry about it. i'm not that hungry. the dinner last night kept me filled plenty."

"if you say so..." he lingers a bit before continuing, "should we go now?"

"sure."

you also get close to the same thing you got last time, with the exception that they've switched out pancakes for waffles, getting a question from san after sitting down about your food choices.

"well, i really only eat korean foods," you tell him. "i'm not too fond of anything else besides what's on my plate right now."

"ahh. so you're a picky eater?"

"somewhat. that's why yeosang hates going out to eat with me."

san lets out a quiet snicker, something more mischievous bubbling in his eyes that you don't read into.

"you talk about yeosang a lot... does yours and his relationship ever bothers your other friend?" he asks, the question stopping you from sipping your coffee.

the friendly and harmless tone still in the air but you can't hide the fact the question flusters you a little.

"well, me and yeosang have known each other for a while... even before grace, so she understands that we don't see each other like that at all."

san quirks his lips and nods, taking your words for it.

"why?" you speak again. "do we give out that kind of vibe?" you ask worriedly, because you would never want to unintentionally (or intentionally) hurt grace in any ways. on your life you have never seen yeosang for more than the annoying middle schooler you couldn't get rid of.

but as san shakes his head, you feel a sense of relief, watching as a light smirk creep up on his face.

"just wondering," he says, so calmly but eerie at the same time, you can't quite grasp the intention. but then something else comes over, and you forget all about deciphering san's answer; not really wanting to but letting the intrusive thoughts win.

"and that girl you were with yesterday? you guys together?" you ask, no menance in your voice; just a natural curioisity because you wanna know... not for any reasons deeper.

"she's a friend," he answers fast and casual. "i know her from my previous school because we were under the same program and have similar interests and whatnot."

"i see," you mumble, a light smile anyone would've missed because you don't wanna admit to anyone why the fact brings you a sense of comfort.

but it doesn't cut it with grace.

"that's what they always say!" she cries dramatically, after storming into your room when she was finally done sleeping past noon and the events of yesterday hit her.

but you don't have any reasons to doubt san, even if you love your best friend and wanna take her words for it, you don't think it's fair to assume someone you barely know is trying to take your man that isn't really your man.

"for all you know, they could be fucking behind doors."

"grace!" you yell your friend's name at such accusation, your ears turning red at even the thought of it.

"sorry," she mutters, but barely meaning it, only shrugging off what needed to be said.

"i just don't want you to be hurt in the end," she says, voice a kind of sympathy you didn't even know you need.

because yes, you think san is handsome. he is kind and unusually attentive to you for whatever reasons, and seeing someone else by his side made your stomach queasy all for the wrong reasons... but you don't feel justified in feeling a certain way just because your friend says you should.

you're not with him and you still don't even know if you wanna be with him.

“trust me, grace,” you assure her, a confident smile settling on your lips that she only frowns to. “i’ll be fine.”

and as much as she wants to believe it, it’s hard not to doubt knowing the way you are.

how, though you’ve navigated through life barely getting romantically involved with boys, it wouldn’t be difficult for someone like san to get you wrapped around his fingers if he wants to.

the guy way too charming; how he just casually checks all criteria from looks to personality, the girl herself rooting for you and him initially, but quickly rethinking the choice after last night.

yet, you don't let what your friend says get to you. or at least you try not to, but it's loud and it bothers you through the day... if someone as likeable as san would be able to hurt you.

if he could lie and deceive you and not even feel bad about it.

but when he pops by your side at night; yours and his friend group having the want to go clubbing, and he stays with you almost entirely, neglecting the girl grace said you should be worried about, you can't even remember why you doubted him in the first place.

not when he'd ask questions about you all night long as if he really wants to know you, so interested in the arts and work you do and accompanying you when everyone else is busy enjoying themselves.

and especially when he'd get breakfast with you every morning until the trip is over, a part of you glad but another saddened by the fact because you know you won't get to see him everyday anymore.

you'll have to go back to the old routine of working and assignments, no more butterflies or feelings of tightness in your chest and stomach, uncertain when you're gonna even get to see or talk to him again.

but one thing you know for sure, is that by the end of summer, you're positive you like choi san.

you're positive you like san, because every time your phone rings with a notification, you can't help but wish it's him--replying to a meme you've sent a few hours ago, or asking how your day has been.

that when grace commented on how your art style has changed, as if they've been pulled and inspired by someone or something, she wasn't just trying to tease you.

grace also being the same person to explain the feelings in your chest and stomach, and why your breath is taken away each time whenever you see him.

even if she was skeptical a few months ago and yelling in your face he's gonna hurt you, seeing the way he is around you has calmed her mind to some extent.

the way he actually treats you with interests and and respect, listening and nodding when you talk and asking you about everything, managing to convince your friend somewhat he might take a liking to you and that you won't come out of this wounded.

he's even become closer with yeosang; the craziness of just how different but also alike these two are, able to carry a conversation on for hours and making grace and you feel forgotten.

"so you guys are coming, right?" san asks the three of you in a corner of the library, quick to associate the spot with you and your friends after asking about your whereabouts one day.

"uh--"

"of course!" yeosang beats you to it, both you and grace narrowing your eyes at the boy in the middle. "we wouldn't wanna miss it."

grace sneers and throws yeosang another look.

"right, because the other two parties where you made a clown show of yourself wasn't enough." she shakes her head and lowers it back to her notebook, mumbling under her breath, "i'm not babysitting."

yeosang pouts immediately, putting on an act and a voice to go with it that makes you wanna throw a punch his way.

"babe, please..."

"no."

"it'd be the last college party before we graduate."

"no."

then he turns to you and hopes you'll take pity.

"y/n?"

you fume under your nose and follow grace as you start scribbling so he gets the hint, because you also don't wanna go to this party. even if wooyoung's the one throwing it and you're all gonna be graduating soon.

you'd rather just end your college career in peace.

"san's going so you're already automatically going anyway," yeosang says, losing his patience and throwing you under the bus to be petty, receiving a kick to his ankle from under the table in return.

"you really should think about coming," san brings it up one more time on the walk to your next class, after leaving the lovebirds in the library to talk it out between them.

you come to a stop when you've both reached the building, standing before him with your textbook curled in your arms and quirking your lips to the side.

"i'll think about it, but if grace don't wanna come, yeosang probably won't."

"why not come by yourself?" he suggests, like it's the easiest thing in the world. but he knows you well at this point, adding, "i know it's probably scary going without your friends, but trust me, you won't be alone. i'll be there so you won't ever have to worry about it." he smiles.

and his words. his body language. his smile. they all come off so sincere and genuine, you just wanna believe him and everything he says.

that he won't ever hurt you. make you feel inadequate and question everything about yourself, because liking someone isn't supposed to feel painful and it isn't supposed to make your heart ache.

but when you show up to the party without your friends, the people you recognize doesn't do anything to ease your anxiety, especially when the number pales in comparison to people you don't recognize.

and by now, you're more than sure you like san because despite his efforts to make you feel welcomed and comfortable amongst the sea of strangers he knows scares you, it doesn't matter when the girl beside him makes you feel uneasy all night.

when butterflies and a beating heart are replaced by the wish to run, liking someone is no longer fun.

"what! you are such a liar!" ashley squeaks with a giggle, pushing san's shoulder lightly in a friendly banter. the kind that makes you feel like you're intruding and disrupting something confidential by following san all night like a lost puppy.

"no! i'm forreal," san defends himself from the girl's teasing, his cheeks flushing pink even in the bad kitchen lighting.

"you were messing with her!"

he chuckles and you're wondering why you're still even here--or how the conversation of san and another girl not you or ashley even started.

"i promise, we were just friends," he says.

ashley shakes her head, smirking the same time she drinks from the cup in her hand, and when she looks san in the eye, she isn't just the girl san's friend with anymore.

because if grace were to yell in your face again about this girl and all the reasons you should be worried, you would agree with her.

even if you still don't feel justified... you like san now, and you can't help but think she's a threat.

"cute, isn't he?" she turns to you, her gaze burning and making you feel small on the spot. her confidence something she walks with proudly and with an aura you hate yourself for even admiring, "but unfortunately a hard one to tie down."

her words and tone cryptic, you can only blink as you try to digest what she said just now and if it was meant to be a dig at you.

you clear your throat, not feeling any bigger with the volume but excusing yourself either way to use the restroom.

just sit in there and think of any excuses in order to get out of here, regretting not staying with yeosang and grace to watch alice in borderland for the 5th time while eating wingstop.

because if you did, you wouldn't be feeling this way. out of place and with the boy you like slipping right by the palm of your hand.

your phone buzzing in your lap takes the moment away, looking down to see the one person you wanna hear from, even if he's also responsible for the doubts in your head.

san: hey. you good?

san: im outside the bathroom. i don't wanna knock though bc im scared it might not be you in there lol

you don't respond, instead going to open the door even if you should be contemplating about a valid reason to go home, chest and face nearly knocking into him, you can only gulp.

"hey." he smiles.

"hey," you mumble, wondering if he can even hear especially with the amount of bodies littering the hallway, but he does judging by the reaction.

"you okay?" he asks, voice concerned the way it always is.

"yeah..." you answer, your stance so awkward. "just needed some space." you try laughing it off, to which he returns one much to your relief.

"i see. well, should we go somewhere quieter? with less people?"

"actually..." your volume simmers, afraid he's gonna take it the wrong way. "i was thinking of going home."

he stares at you a second too long before responding with a simple "oh." the wheels going off in his head until an idea comes over. "that's fine. i can take you home."

"no, you're good. yeosang said he'd pick me up when i'm ready."

"no, let me. i want to. plus, i invited you so it's only fair."

and you weren't gonna argue with him; not when he was already pulling out his keys and telling you to follow him out the house and into his car.

"aren't you a little drunk?" you tease, after watching him pull at the seatbelt.

"a little." he smirks, turning to you. "but i'm good for the most part. i didn't drink that much."

right. because he was mostly engaged and immersed in conversations and banters that you weren't a part of, with the girl you're still wondering what happened to.

"where did your friend go?" you ask, as casually as possible.

"ashley? she got pulled away by some pool table game wooyoung they wanted to play."

you just nod, though the many unanswered questions about this friend bothers you, moving to look ahead and admire the size of wooyoung's house the same time san starts the engine. and that's when you realize, this might be the first time you and san are actually alone.

without hotel guests, nosy friends, partygoers, or people that frequents the cafe, but more importantly--without being behind the screens of your phones.

"the university's dorms, correct?"

"correct."

as he drives you back to the place, he can't stop asking questions.

"how'd you like it there?"

"pretty good. i have all i need, and the best part is i get to room with grace, so."

he sends a small smile your way in midst of driving, and you think he looks so attractive doing so. his hands on the wheel and his relaxed stance as he listens attentively like the boyfriend you never had.

"that's great," he says, coming to a stop at a red light, looking your way immediately. "that's a nice outfit by the way. i can't believe i didn't tell you earlier."

and you really wanna blush and grow shy at the fact he pays you this much attention, but you really just giggle instead.

"well thanks. you look pretty great yourself."

he steps on the gas at the green and scoffs but the corner of his lips pulling into a small smile.

"you're just saying that to say it."

you wanna tell him he don't even know how much you mean it. how unbelievable it is-- the fact he just walks around looking like that all the time.

but you chuckle it off and you're sure he's just playing with you, the drive weaving through the fall weather and city lights as an air of fresh and relief come over, you can't believe you were so apprehensive not even 40 minutes ago back at wooyoung's party.

"here we are," he says, pulling into the dorm's parking lot you had to help him find.

"thanks," you tell him. "i appreciate it."

"no problem," he replies, a silence lingering after and an expression on his face that something's clearly bothering him. "hey..."

"yeah?"

"i'm sorry about tonight... if anything made you uncomfortable."

you only smile, though the reminder makes your heart heavy with today's events, you're happy he noticed and care.

it seems to just be how he is; eyes and ears always attentive and sometimes a little too curious.

"it's okay," you assure. because even if you are upset, it doesn't feel like you have the rights to. as if you're just making all of this up in your head to ruin the night. "i think it was mostly because yeosang and grace wasn't there," you lie.

"i understand. would've been a lot better if they had made it."

"yeah, but it's okay. you going back after dropping me off?"

he nods. "i have to, unfortunately. wooyoung would want me to."

you hum lowly in acknowledgment, your legs closed together and your throat tight all of a sudden.

"well i hope you'll have fun the rest of the night. i'm sorry i couldn't stay longer."

"i'll try to," he says, a quiet giggle leaving. "won't be the same without you but probably should've picked a better place, you know."

"it's all good," you say with a smile, head whipping around to the darkly lit dorm building and its entrance. "i should probably get going."

"should i walk with you?"

you look at him while unbuckling your seatbelt, shaking your head. "i got it. i'd rather you get back to your friends."

he opens his mouth to say something but quickly takes it back, trying again.

"hey," he says so softly, you can almost melt into the look in his eyes, staring at you with blinking lashes.

"yeah?"

"so i thought this was really nice, you know... the car ride and all." he stops for a second to find his words. "i was wondering if you'd like to do it again? i think the cafe's nice, but this is a good change of scenery."

and you wonder if san can hear the beating of your heart especially in the quiet of his car, but you quickly pick yourself up to answer, "i'd love to do this again." you smile, and san returns one.

"perfect. i'll text you."

"i look forward."

which is why even if you didn't have the greatest of time; most of the night spent in self-doubts and regrets, you also don't beat yourself up for what he could be doing after he dropped you off.

what he's doing at the party or who he's having fun with, because afterall, he asked you out.

said it with a sweet look in his eyes and a tone to match, you'd rather look forward to what went right than what didn't; sleeping under your sheet in the dark of the night, sacrificing any uncertainty for restful sleep.

"these fries are way too salty."

you listen to san complains, his posture relaxed but face scowling at the fast food he just shoved down his throat a few seconds ago.

a laugh bubbles out of you and you shake your head, munching on the fries you protested on getting, but san way too stubborn to convince otherwise.

"you're right. maybe we should've gotten burgers," he says, looking at you and placing the food back in the bag. "never again."

"maybe," you mutter with a quiet giggle.

san had texted you exactly two days after the party, the reminder cracking the biggest smile on your face that grace took notice to and immediately wanted to know the cause of.

"it's totally a date!" your friend says, squealing after you tell her of why you wanna blush just now.

"it's not a date."

she sighs and rolls her eyes, prying your phone right from your hand that gets you up from the bed to fight her.

"he even put a smiling emoji. what else would that mean!?" she continues squeaking and dodging your attempts, until you manage to snatch it back.

"i think he's just being nice."

he picked you up, asked for suggestions on what to eat (and didn't listen), and paid for everything before pulling into the parking lot of a store opened 24 hours.

"so..." he starts speaking, hands cleared of salt from the fries and now looking at you through his car's lighting. "excited to graduate soon?"

you nod. "of course. and you?"

"for sure," he answers, attention pulled away to the front merely before meeting your eyes again. "any plans yet?"

"not much luck. kind of figure i'll think about that after," you answer with a dry chuckle. your bleak future not something to laugh about, but it's a way of coping. "you?"

and you asked out of pure curiosity and interest, but at the way his face falls, you would've thought you insulted him. watching his eyes go dark and almost nervous, the atmosphere shifting when he just sits in silence for too long.

"sorry," you mumble apologetically, bringing light to his eyes once more when he just shakes his head.

"no, you're good. i'm sorry. i was just thinking."

"it's okay," you assure, "if it's still something you're thinking of."

"yeah." he smiles, the act almost forced, but you try to not linger on the thought. why he tends to shut down when you ask too many questions and want to know too much... the same he does to you.

"hey," he attempts to revive the atmosphere he was responsible for killing. "can i ask you something?"

you tilt your head slightly at that, placing the empty bag of fries back where it came from and nodding in response.

"we talked about this briefly, but i really wanna know how you felt about the party. you didn't look like you enjoyed it at all." and it wasn't because yeosang nor grace were there.

you swallow, unprepared for the topic to make it back around, but answering with honesty to the best of your ability; just slightly leaving out what really shattered your confidence that night.

"it's just hard for me in general to really enjoy myself in that kind of setting." though you tried and was having some fun, until you weren't.

"i understand, and i appreciate you for trying. i just still feel bad for pulling you along when it was clearly out of your comfort zone, so i have to make sure."

it's the way he speaks and acts, always asking about you and caring about your wellbeing more than he should--that makes it hard to want to be upset when he doesn't want you to do the same in return.

when he closes himself off, always with the invisible barrier you shouldn't cross because he doesn't wanna tell you more than what you should know.

"it's just more so i also didn't really know anyone there. everyone else were occupied, and you were uh... talking to your friend," you say, mumbling the last part because you think you might be pushing it, but san doesn't seem fazed. he just shifts in his spot.

"yeah," he answers coolly, "hard to get her to stop talking once she starts." a light smile curls up at his lips and you try to not let it bother you.

but it's like he can read your thoughts; knows exactly the concerns running through your head and the apprehension overtaking your face when he spits the next sentence, "there's nothing going on between us, if that's what you're wondering. when i said she's a friend, i mean it."

and you don't know whether to be relieved or embarrassed he knows you a little too well.

"though she did like me at one point, that's the past," he adds, searching you for any signs of a reaction, and he gets one he also knows too well.

when your lips goes into a pout and your eyes swell with a type of curioisity in them, eager to poke your nose where it doesn't belong.

"and did you... like her back?" you ask timidly, knowing it isn't your ground but unable to help it.

san's snicker leaves you in confusion, and even more when he just shrugs.

"we're better off as friends. that's what matters."

the answer doesn't lessen the knot in your stomach nor does it bring you any form of relief, even if san doesn't particularly owe you any.

"what's with the face?" his voice snaps you out of your thought and to puppy eyes and blinking lashes staring right back almost mocking you as if he knows exactly what's making you so upset right now.

"nothing," you say, faking a smile. "just thinking."

but there's a shift in atmosphere again, whether you and san wanna acknowledge it or not. something tense that makes you a little on edge, but in a way different from before--the food and drinks and being parked in a public space forgotten at this point.

"have you ever been in a relationship before?" he asks abruptly, the question making you swallow the tension as you try your best to keep the composure.

"i've been in one," you answer, not disappointing him when you return the question, "how about you?"

he smirks, one eyebrow raising when he simply says, "two."

"two?" you repeat, voice raising like you don't believe it. "you look like you'd have a lot more experience."

the comment makes him laugh, his body falling and head thumping against the car seat while his gaze never leaves you.

"what makes you think that?" he says, the smirk once again creeping to his lips as he stares at you in amusement, the scene and tension having switched up so fast, you don't even remember when it ever felt like this in the presence of san.

when all friendliness and formality were gone and replaced by something else that makes you wanna be bolder and get closer to him.

you shrug lightly. "guess it's the way you carry yourself." that makes it so hard to believe.

"either way, if i'm gonna get into a relationship with someone, i have to know them well first and i'd have to be sure it's something i want."

you nod in agreement, though san never particularly striked you as the type to think so much about these kind of things... but again, you feel he's also just barely letting you into a certain part of him he haven't ever.

"that's fair. i would agree," you say, only to a chuckle from him that makes you squint in confusion. "what?"

both his hands are now behind his head and he's looking so entertained for whatever reason.

"you just seem more like the kind to go out of your way to avoid any romantic interactions," he says, giggling after with dimples you can't even admire because you're more flustered by the comment.

"it's more like... i find those things hard unless i'm attracted to someone," you clarify even if you know he's right to an extent, "and it's not often i am attracted to someone, so."

and how funny that when you finally are, he's sitting right across from you with a smirk and unaware of how he's making you feel just being in the same perimeter--or so you think.

"the first guy i was with, i always found intimacy difficult... especially kissing," you add, unsure if you're stepping over the line but you and san are old enough for this.

you're sure he even enjoys it, if the mirth in his eyes and the widest smile on his face says anything.

"maybe you didn't like him that much?" he suggests, tone thrilled like it's some form of fun guessing game. "or he was probably just a sloppy kisser."

"no, like... he was good but i was the one who couldn't kiss for shit," you defend your ex's name, feeling like you have to because he wasn't a bad guy.

"i see," he mumbles, the smirk settling into a soft smile. "at least it was enjoyable for you."

"yeah," you answer, the conversation getting so much more awkward for you. "how was your first kiss like?"

"it was okay." he was anticipating such response by how fast he replied. "it was both of our first time and i did it at the time because i really thought she was the one, but funny to think about it now."

there's a quick silence after as you just stare, the next question already at the tip of your tongue.

"and did you also thought the same for your second relationship?"

he nods to it, gaze now locking yours right back and the even longer silence makes you think he's gonna kiss you. with only the two of you in the car and the moon high in the sky, it's the perfect setup.

but instead, he takes you back to the dorms after moving on and forgetting about the whole conversation and drops you off with a sweet and friendly smile.

he doesn't kiss you. not this time or any others when he could've.

even if it would've been nice if he did. if he was sure it was something he wanted, and that you were the one. but it's okay, because you've convinced yourself that being with him is enough.

happy and content he still sends good morning texts, and still wants to hang out once in a while. that he still comments under your instagram posts that happens once in a blue moon, and he still sends you stupid memes.

because you're just the slightest afraid that if you try pushing your feelings onto him, he might not wanna do any of those things anymore.

so you keep him close; even if not in the way you really want, he's still beside you. that's what matters.

"he likes you, y/n!" grace preaches while pacing back and forth.

you were just enjoying your day off and with a book in your hand when your roommate and best friend came back from a date--with the first thing on her mind somehow being you and san.

"he doesn't," you answer, annoyed at this point and already having put down the book after losing your place at least three times due to her.

"no." she pouts and plops down on her bed facing you. "i've seen the way he looks and act around you. my instinct has a 90% accuracy."

seen how san's eyes would always linger on you whenever you're in the room, and having caught the smiles that would usually decorate his lips when you do something clumsy or endearing.

going above and beyond to do and say things that if yeosang was to do and say to another girl, she'd drag him by the ear and make him sleep outside.

but the statement's only met with an eyeroll from you.

"your instinct said san and ashley were fucking and they weren't, so?"

"that was the other 10%," your friend yaps, calming one second after. "i want you to just trust me on this one. if he doesn't like you, he wouldn't do what he does for you."

but you just can't help but to grow more irritated even if it's done out of good intentions. you're already frustrated and confused and grace isn't helping.

"maybe because he's just a nice person in general," you tell her, never having witnessed san be rude and unkind to anyone ever.

your friend sighs, her shoulders dropping but still wanting to encourage and give you some form of hopes because she knows how much you like san. how much you wish he'd ask you out.

"he might be just as scared of rejection or messing up the friendship," she says, then pauses because it's gonna be out of your comfort zone but you have to try. "why don't you ask him out?"

your eyes go wide and you cringe at even the thought of it, telling your friend she's crazy for even thinking of it.

san doesn't like you and you're sure of that.

if he did, he probably would've told you by now, and he would've kissed you all those times when he had the chance. when it was just you and him in his car, in your dorm room, and back at the restaurant.

so you didn't plan on telling him, because you didn't think you could like san even more than you already did.

like him so much to the point that keeping it in was actually painful; when it felt like the only form of relief was to tell him.

at least not until spring again.

"what are you doing?" san's voice pulls your eyes from the sketch and to his face as he stares at you amusingly, your posture incredibly funny to him since you're trying to hide what you're working on.

feet planted on the cushion of the cafe's chair and elbows on your knees with your sketchbook just below your eyes, gawking and peeking at him for the last hour or so.

"i'm making art," you tell him, a giggle bubbling out after that san shakes his head to.

spring has returned. the petals once again fallen from the cherry blossom trees with the wind carrying it away in the streets as the cold chill from winter quiets down even if you still shiver and need a sweater.

you and san are seated at the same table in the corner and he's currently watching the spring show, his eyes following lone petals when they're still attached to the root until they become nothing but scatters on the streets.

his grey hoodie and sharp features a sight to see, especially when it's next to a big glass window with a view to match, though you think san is more beautiful. more than any spring blossoms or art.

feelings of butterflies and a fast heartbeat now replaced by something else--not that you still don't get them once in a while, but everything feels more natural. comfortable.

you find yourself caring for him in ways you usually didn't before. whether he ate, slept, or is genuinely feeling okay--you wanna know and hear all about it.

when he's happy, you're happy with him. but when he's sad or dejected, you also can't help but to feel the same. the last couple of months a ride of events that really tested just how strong the bond and friendship between you and san really is; never would you have predicted you'd grow to care so much about anyone else besides yeosang and grace.

"you shouldn't really be doodling. instead, use the time wisely to really think about what you wanna submit for the exhibition," he says, arms now crossed and eyes away from the window.

"don't worry. i already got an idea," you assure, a playful smile on your lips.

among other things san has helped you with, he was the biggest advocator in you entering the student art exhibition that will be taking place shortly just after the end of the semester.

you've always felt self conscious putting your work out, always choosing and picking carefully even when it came to posting on social media. and even then, your account is privated so only those close to you could see.

art is the only thing you've ever felt truly good at, letting your creations define you more than necessarry, and you're so afraid you'll be told one day that what you do and love isn't good enough.

"i want to but i'm also really not sure," you say, in the peace of the library with san across; the distress and conflict on your face as clear as day.

"why not?" san frowns. "i've seen your work. they're good enough to go in a museum, y/n."

the compliment makes you roll your eyes the same time you let out a scoff. "you're just saying that."

he shakes his head. "i'm so forreal. you're the best artist i know."

"i'm the only artist you know."

"that's not true. i also know uh... leonardo da vinci."

you laugh at that. "but i don't have an artwork worth at least 800 million, so unfortunately i am not better."

"i really don't think the mona lisa's all that great. any of your work would blow it out of the water easy."

there's a second of silence before you start laughing again, prompting san to giggle in return, but he starts, "i'm serious. you should really do it. plus, you'll be graduating soon. i think it's a great opportunity."

"when is it again?" he ask.

"june the 18th," you say, placing your sketchbook and pen down. "you'll be there, right?"

he nods at first, a simple smile settling on him. "of course," he answers, "i'll be there. i promise."

and as the day goes on, sitting in the comfort of the cafe with san as you continue the sketch you started and he occasionally switches between sipping his coffee and the assignment on his laptop, it gets harder to ignore the even stranger feeling that encloses you almost completely.

when the blooming of flowers and trees are fresh, along with the soft, gentle breeze of spring--you think you might be in love with san.

it seemed like it was just yesterday that you were talking graduation with yeosang and grace, but not even a year later, it's become a reality with your cap and gown sitting on your bed and the graduation ceremony merely a week away.

you think, even if with barely any plans after but to move back with your father and see where life takes you, you're still excited.

excited for the next step and for what's to come.

but san on the other hand, never seems too thrilled whenever you bring it up.

you know him to be an open person, always willing to talk about anything and everything; not a single mean bone in this man, except when it comes to talking about himself.

who he really is and who he wants to be after... he never wants to talk about it, so you try to not push it. be understanding and figure that maybe he isn't ready, yet.

that when he wants to tell you and wants you to know, he will.

but it's been a year since you've known him, and with each passing day, what you feel for him only grows gradually; so much that being friends just doesn't cut it anymore.

the feeling of love both exciting but also suffocating, you didn't even know.

you don't mind being friends with him, but staying that way means stopping what could be, and for some reason, the confidence that san feels the same also grows with every moment spent with him.

you didn't use to think so. dismissed grace's "instinct" and all that, chalking it up to san's natural personality to be kind and treat everyone with respect. but you started to see what she was talking about a while ago. you'd like to believe it.

how he's been a lot more touchy and sentimental these past few days; a look always in his eyes like apprehension that you can't quite read into but know something's on his mind. like he wanna say and tell you about it but can't.

then when he texts you the day just before graduation, asking if you two can talk later on in the evening, you certainly feel like this is it.

that he didn't do all of those things for you just to be nice or to be a friend. why else would he had asked to talk if it isn't something significant that he couldn't annouce through text?

you enter san's car that evening with a beating heart and a tight stomach, feeling so nervous and sick, you feel the food you ate just an hour ago coming back up.

and though it's a scene you're all too familiar with--you and san in the parking lot of the university's dorm building, there's an air in tonight's meeting you can't quite gauge.

something tense that makes the both of you sit in silence for a few seconds too long, nervousness gnawing at you once more while you start to doubt if the same is what's causing the current discomfort on san's face.

"hey," you start, trying to lighten the atmosphere that has gotten so awkward already, and you haven't even confessed. "how has your day been?"

he finally lifts his head up to look at you, his hands off the steering wheel and settling on his lap as he try to smile forcefully, you can tell.

"it was good, yeah..." he answers, tone dull and tired, you wonder if maybe he didn't get enough sleep. "you?" he asks in return but it doesn't sound like any other times.

like he didn't ask because he's genuinely interested, but because he has to.

"it was also good. yeah..."

you swallow down the knot in your throat, another long silence engulfing the car as you and san listen to footsteps and chitters of students having just arrived.

"i have something to tell you," you both say and turn to each other at the same time, the scary coincidence of the timing has both your eyes wide as echoes of giggles let loose temporarily.

despite the unpredictability of the other person and the possible turmoil after, you both can laugh for now.

"you go first," he says, nodding his chin your direction and sitting with a beating heart just a tad lower than yours that to you, fills your ears and the entire car.

you take a deep breath, your fingers naturally finding each other in moments of distress and finally uttering the words you've been wanting to tell him for a few months now.

"san, w-we've known each other for about a year now and i know this might be dramatic of me, b-but you're probably the best thing to happen to me," you speak so fast, another habit of yours when under pressure, barely looking him in the eyes to even notice the look in them, "and, and... i think what i wanna say is i like you. i really really like you and i wanna tell you that."

and when you finally level his eyes again, so relieved it's out now, but when you only see the cold, indifferent reaction, nothing like you predicted, you fear the worst.

and when san breaks your heart for the first time, you know you messed up majorly.

"i'm sorry," he mumbles, almost murmuring and keeps his head down as if ashamed to say such thing, "really really sorry."

messed up by letting feelings get in the way of a wonderful friendship with a wonderful person, and let his act of kindness get to your head because how could san ever possibly feel the same?

"no. i'm sorry," you say, volume barely above a whisper and voice between crying and staying strong in front of him. "i-i shouldn't have said that."

"no. it's okay. don't feel bad," he tries assuring in his usual calm and collected tone, but even he knows you don't believe him. but he means it, because he has way more to feel bad and be sorry for. "it's just..."

he can hardly look you in the eyes, your expression of heartbreak and guilt something he should be going through instead.

"i'm gonna be leaving in two days."

it suddenly feels like the world stopped at the drop of those words. your chest constricting and your breath hard to catch, the rejection nothing compared to the realization.

the hard reality that you're gonna be losing san. one moment as if he's right in front of you, you could almost grab him, and the next he's slipping right out of your grasp. just like that.

loving someone is such a horrible, awful feeling.

"w-where to?" you ask, the crack in your voice makes san wince and he can't wait for the night to be over with. for him, and for you.

"seoul, south korea," he answers lowly, pausing before adding, "that's what i wanted to tell you tonight."

and suddenly, everything makes sense. like having found pieces of puzzles you couldn't ever; it all hits you at once.

the first time you met him.

“i went into it because the people around me said i was good at it,” he says, a bit unfazed and dull. “that’s pretty much it, i guess.” and ending it with a smile when he catches your gaze again.

“but do you enjoy it?”

there’s a quick silence and san tilts his head slightly, quirking his lips to the side before answering.

“it’s not bad. if anything, it’s been easy, so i’m glad for that at least.”

you nod, smiling in return.

“that’s good. only one more year and we’ll be done.”

"yeah," he says, letting out a loose chuckle after. "i can't wait. there's something i want to do after, but for now, we'll have to see what happens."

the party.

“cute, isn’t he?” she turns to you, her gaze burning and making you feel small on the spot. her confidence something she walks with proudly and with an aura you hate yourself for even admiring. “but unfortunately a hard one to tie down.”

and all those times he'd dodge your questions and never want to answer anything concerning what it is he actually wants to do, or even how he grew up.

simply because san never planned to stay.

he was always meant to go after... even if he got to know you. he never wanted to be anything more with you.

you can't help the sense of betrayal that blooms from deep within, never wanting to have any ill feelings toward san but the hurt is so strong, you don't remember a time in your life you've ever felt this way before.

being mislead for so long and kept hidden in the dark. but even then, you can't seem to bring yourself to hate him.

a tear pricks your eye and you attempt to wipe it away, voice hoarse when you speak again, "that's what you always wanted to do, right?"

san just nods, unable to see him clearly through the tears multiplying and his gaze that has turned away.

"hey," you say, a soft call that san responds to, his fox eyes staring back that you're gonna miss. "i hope it goes well." you smile, a mixture of bitter and sweet.

"i know it will," you say once more, swallowing the knot dying in your throat and searching san for any reactions.

maybe you don't know who he was before or who he's gonna be after, but you know him right now. the boy you met a year ago and made you feel so many things; butterflies down to heartbreak--who, you're still so madly in love with, you don't even have it in you to wish him anything but well.

why would you wanna keep him in the small palms of your hands when there's a world out there much bigger waiting for him. a world that could make him so much happier and content.

you would never be upset about that.

when it looks like san isn't gonna say anything, his mind continuously in thought but lips unable replicate, you're the one to break the tension yet again, figuring he just needs time.

even if he's had time... to prepare all of this and for what he was gonna say, yet he's drawing nothing but blanks in the actual presence of you.

"i should uh, i should probably go," you announce when the silence sits for too long. "graduation is tomorrow and grace wants to wake up early in preparation."

he nods just as he's done cowardly before.

"i'll see you there?" your voice squeaks slightly for the first time tonight; some kind of hope and excitement in them.

you don't know whether he nods or hum, or if he even answers. just a vagueness to his expression that you take for a yes, because why wouldn't he be.

but if you knew at the time, that when you go to search for the familiar head of black in the crowd during the ceremony and you wouldn't find him, you would have said more

if you knew that even during the celebration after; a restaurant across the streets your friends wanted to go to, that he still isn't gonna come, you would've stayed longer last night.

tell him everything and wish him all the good in the world... if you knew that was the last time you would see him.

act like you're not constantly checking the door of the restaurant in hope he'd show up even for one last time so you won't feel so dejected and have all of yeosang, grace, and wooyoung look at you with pity.

say you're just tired and continue acting like your heart didn't do a flip at the drop of his name when yunho asks about his whereabouts and wooyoung tells the group he's busy packing for tomorrow morning.

none of them seem to be aware he was leaving, besides wooyoung and your friends (for obvious reasons).

hold back your tears and attempt to not crack when you finally get wooyoung to yourself, telling him if he could give something to san.

something you've been planning to for a while but wanted to wait till it was finished, and when it was, you kind of forgot about it. until suddenly.

assure wooyoung it's okay when he tells you he's told san on plenty of occasions he needed to let you know.

and finally, when you get back to the dorms, you allow yourself to cry in grace's arms but also assuring her you're gonna be okay and she doesn't need to stay up with you

when it's past midnight, hugging your knees on edge of your bed in the dark watching as the trees sways outside the window, you wonder if this was how your uncle and mother felt.

why your uncle decided to move halfway across the country and leave everything he knew behind just for love, and why your mother still married your father despite everything against them.

a part of you finally starting to understand all the sacrifices and compromises yeosang and grace makes.

love is so strange.

you give into the events of today and curl up in bed, pulling the blanket over and closing your eyes.

before the blooming of flowers and trees, and the soft, gentle breeze of spring could even pass, san leaves you.

a month later

"don't be so nervous. you look great."

grace turns you by the shoulders to the mirror and you can hardly recognize yourself. the short black satin dress hugging your body and skin adorned in jewelries that doesn't even belong to you, nor are the heels on your feet.

you really didn't even think you'd be going, let alone have your work accepted for the exhibition among hundreds of other submissions.

have your work out in the open and on display for people other than your friends to see and judge. it's nerve-racking, but grace think you should at least dress for the occasion.

"yeosang said he'll be here in 15," she tells you.

you're nervous just sitting around, and even more so on the way to the gallery, the awful music yeosang has blasting not helping a bit.

"cookie points to whoever finds y/n's art first," grace says from the front, her lips turning upward as she challenges her boyfriend.

"that's easy. we can probably see the watercolor and blue from a mile away," he teases, prompting grace to smack him lightly by the arm; his comment making a scoff leave your mouth.

they don't know what you submitted. you didn't want them to, saying you wanted to really surprise them and get an honest opinion as it was the piece you probably took the longest on and put the most thoughts to.

the arrival doesn't make you feel any better, more cars than you predicted lined up at the front and in the parking lot, you have to take a deep breath.

"hey," yeosang says, his head peeking over the car seat with a small smile, "tonight's gonna be great. you go in there and get familiar with everyone and we'll meet you soon?"

you nod, unbuckling your seatbelt and undoing the wrinkles on your dress, ready to head out.

"good luck!" grace squeals just before you're out the car, waving to your friends as they grow further away to find parking.

you've been here a couple times before but never for your own work, of course. making way inside and glad that the first face you see is one of your professors from a class you had, his smile welcoming and you keep yourself close until it's time for the showcase, your natural tendency to stick close to people you know.

you finally spot your friends halfway into it, the two shamelessly standing in front of your work and shooting you looks they know is gonna make you flush in embarrassment.

the night goes on and that feeling of nervousness and anxiety easing the more other students also talk to you and compliments your work with you doing the same in return because everyone here is truly talented.

each and every artwork telling a different story and probably held closely by the artists themselves.

"see! that wasn't so bad," grace says, having ran to you the second you're free from the circle of students and professors, pushing you playfully by the shoulder and getting a giggle in response.

"i guess so."

"by the way, love the art!" she squeaks, so much happier and excited than you.

"and it definitely wasn't because your name was written on top that we knew, but your style is just too distinct," yeosang adds, "only thing different this time is it's pink."

you smile, the process of having to come up with something you'll be okay with everyone else seeing all coming back. how, it took a while, but once you knew, you wanted it to be as perfect as possible.

the pink cherry blossom tree next to a body of lake and the field next to it decorated in countless dandelions, all painted in the style you're best at--the watercolor really bringing life to the picture.

it's not often you can say you're proud of your own creations, but you can say you really like this one.

"well thanks, guys," you tell them, a laugh bubbling out at the end. "really appreciate you two coming out tonight."

"well, duh." grace rolls her eyes dramatically, her lips turning to a smile after. "we know this means a lot to you."

"for sure," yeosang says, checking the surrounding briefly before continuing, "you should probably finish up things here with everyone else first. me and grace are gonna head out to a shop nearby and we'll come pick you up when you're ready?"

"yeah. i probably should." because seeing the rest of the students and professors stuck in conversations, it doesn't seem right to just up and leave. you need a proper farewell at least. "i'll let you guys know."

you spend the next couple of minutes out of courtesy attempting to talk to anyone you could until the place mostly start clearing of visitors.

saying one last farewell to the professor you're most familiar with, you turn a corner to head out with the plan to call yeosang when you're stopped in your track by a figure suddenly emerging from the walls and now in your way.

when you meet his gaze and take in the fact he's dressed for the occasion, the suit he's wearing clad onto his body too perfectly (though when does he not look good in anything), you almost want to be angry it looks like he planned to come here tonight.

"san..." his name falls off your lips. a name you haven't said since a month ago and didn't plan to any time sooner.

"hey," he greets, awkwardly and quietly, his hands shoved into the pockets of his suit pants that shows off his legs you didn't even realize were so long.

but you're mostly just thinking and wondering why he's here. he isn't supposed to be here. he left a month ago to go chase his dreams, so why is he all of sudden standing in front of you in such a small gallery.

"w-what are you doing here?" you ask, no anger or pain in your voice though he thinks there should be; only curiosity the way you always sound.

"i promise i'd come, remember?"

“when is it again?” he ask.

“june the 18th,” you say, placing your sketchbook and pen down. “you’ll be there, right?”

he nods at first, a simple smile settling on him. “of course,” he answers, “i’ll be there. i promise.”

he did. but he also left.

you feel you might be going crazy, like this is all a dream and he's only a figment of your imagination because he wouldn't come back just for this. not for you.

"san," you say, a knot on the horizon, "you left. you left a month ago." like you have to remind him of the fact as if speaking to a ghost.

"i know i did..." he hangs his head in shame and you can only stare, the situation so unreal, you wanna try slapping yourself to see if you'll actually wake up. "and i want to apologize for doing so."

such words bringing upon a web of emotions, both you and san still standing smack in the middle of the public gallery and you're trying to keep your composure.

heck, you're still trying to process the fact he's really here.

"can we talk about this outside?" you say, voice soft and timid, alluding to the current scene that san takes a hint to. the walk out the most quiet and awkward as you both try finding some form of seating, settling on a bench not too far from from the entrance.

a couple seconds that feels like an entire minute passes before you start again, san's heartbeat loud and hammering from beside you.

"you don't have to apologize. you went after your heart, why would i be mad about that?" you mumble, but the volume still loud in the quiet night, the air of spring about to be summer soon.

san exhales in preparation, his chest rising and falling to what he knew you were already gonna say because that's just how you are. all of what makes you so likeable and easy to fall for. though right now, he doesn't need forgiveness or even an ounce of your kindness.

he doesn't deserve any of it.

"because i lied to you," he breaks it, straight and clear, and the reminder throwing you back to the month before that you wanted to forget so bad.

you don't wanna cry and you didn't plan to cry tonight but the tears you're currently trying to blink away says otherwise.

"you didn't lie... you just kept things from me," you try justifying, part of it to console your own self. because you'd like to think that though san omitted details, he never said anything that wasn't true.

"and that makes it any better?"

there's a quick, uncomfortable silence before you speak, eyes down on your lap. "i'd like to think so."

it would be a lie if you say you don't think back to that night often. the conversation and then the awful realization in the car that gave you one of the most most awful case of a heartbreak. nothing in comparison to your mother's death, but a different kind for a different lesson.

how, you've tried so hard to not linger because the longer you did, the more sick it made you, creating doubts in your head that you were certain could never be answered because san left.

but you do think about it. if san simply struck up a friendship with you and did everything he did knowing you were exactly the kind he could never develop romantic feelings for.

that the reason he never seemed to really want any of that, or even gave into advances from other girls was only because he was leaving. but if he wasn't, would he have given any of them a chance? would he have given ashley a chance?

but you don't really wanna ask him any of that.

"so, are you visiting, or? what really brings you here?" because you don't believe that he came back just for this. just for you.

he told you leaving was what he always wanted to do, and now he's suddenly back here, and you can't think of any good enough reasons to do so only after a month of being gone.

he takes a deep breath and for the first time after sitting down, you turn and look at him, even if he's avoiding your gaze to look ahead into nothingness.

"you know, i probably moved more in the span of 4 years than you have in your lifetime," he speaks, face in eternal concentration, you just wanna listen. "i don't know. it's complicated i guess... but it was difficult to really feel like i belonged anywhere." he shrugs, the same time the bittersweet smile at the corner of his lips is visible.

"wasn't ever that close to my family members and i try to not stick with the same people for too long. ashley and especially wooyoung were just more persistent than your average person." he pauses, then continues almost hesistantly, "because i knew if i did, i'd end up hurting them."

and how funny and hypocritical of him because you're the person he ended up hurting the most. the one he completely shut out and gave no closure to, because he didn't think he'd grow so attached to you in the matter of just a year.

"but that's just how it works, right? there are things you have to sacrifice in order to find happiness," you say, at this point still trying to excuse his actions although you still remember feeling hurt and betrayed not that long ago.

"but i wasn't happy over there." he squeezes his eyes shut and his lips curl together in frustration, as if trying to get through you because you're failing to understand the point. "i came back because i was the happiest while i was here. i came back for you."

he knows it's selfish. how beyond hurt you must've felt when he left, and now all of a sudden showing up asking for a chance, the turmoil of mixed emotions you're probably going through at the confession.

just a month ago, he literally ghosted you. and just a few months before that, he made you think he was gonna kiss you... when it was not kissing you that he had a hard time with.

he wanted it be as quick and painless as possible, and kissing you was only gonna do the complete opposite. if he kissed you, he would've wanted to stay. but given how everything turned out, he should've just not pushed the friendship at all.

should've never texted you, never invited you out, and he especially should've never talked to you to start with. but again, he's a bit selfish by nature and couldn't help but to be intrigued by you when he shouldn't have.

but he especially shouldn't have opened the door to wooyoung that night of the graduation, still able to recall the exact outfit he was wearing as the boy glared at him with a certain look of disapproval before he could even say a word.

"y/n asked me to give you this," wooyoung says, sounding tired from the day or maybe he's still just mad at san and doesn't really wanna talk.

san sighs and hesistantly takes the pink envelope, wooyoung's gaze burning into his before the boy says his final farewell.

"you know, you're really an asshole."

and it was almost like wooyoung showed up at 1 in the morning after a long day just to give it to san out of spite in hope he'll feel guilty, and it worked.

because the content in it played a big part in san ultimately deciding to come back, the sketch of him that day in the cafe with his grey hoodie watching the petal shower along with a short note attached to it haunting him day and night.

Because of you, I had one of the best years of my life. I hope things are better in Seoul, and thank you truly for being the greatest inspiration - y/n

so he came back for you, and he means it... though you don't look like you believe it the slightest and he doesn't blame you. he's done nothing but fed you doubts.

he hears a hard swallow from you that he finally turns to, your eyes glossy and lashes fluttering to hide it.

"san, you shouldn't be saying things like that. you know how i feel about you," you say, sniffing due to a clogged nose because you're not doing very good at not crying.

san's scooted next to you, his leg brushing yours and hands on your jaw as you look up at him, never this close or intimate before, butterflies in your stomach that you wish wasn't there.

"it's true. i mean every word of it. i've liked you for so long, you have no idea."

he's not sure when he started liking you, his guess is probably during the summer trip. but he remembers looking forward to your texts and thinking how pretty you are and how he wanted to get closer to you, even if he shouldn't have.

"then why did you leave?" you ask, your eyes vulnerable and lips pouting that he wanna kiss and soothe.

you understand him chasing his dreams, but if he liked you; if he came back afterall, why did he leave in the first place?

"because i'm not used to staying in one place for too long." his thumbs drawing circles and tending to your cheeks. "i want to travel. i want to see the rest of the world... find a purpose in life and see what else is out there waiting for me."

you open your mouth to say something but it's like he already knew, cutting you off before you could even start doubting again, "i don't see it as having to make sacrifices in order to find happiness, more so just putting it off for the time being. the rest of the world can wait because right now, i want to be happy with you."

he can still be happy with you and achieve his other dreams when the time is right. he don't wanna have to choose one or the other when he can make both work with efforts.

"so you don't have to think about it now, but when you do, i just want you to know i like you. really really like you, and i'd love to give it a shot if you're willing. only when you're ready, of course."

and yes, the man quite literally ghosted you and broke your heart in such a short amount of notice, you could barely process it at the time. but you also can't deny the way he makes you feel.

how, whenever he's near, your stomach still feels funny and your heart wanna do flips. and with him this close, you definitely still wanna kiss him.

it's not possible to get over such a man in just a month, but you were healing slowly and ready to accept the fact you won't ever see him again. and then he comes back and is inches away from your face, telling you everything you've ever wanted to hear.

the sudden sound of your phone going off at a notification makes the both of you jump as san pulls away and clears his throat.

you quickly search your purse for your phone and see a text from yeosang on the screen.

yeosang: u ready?

"it's yeosang,'' you tell san, locking eyes with him briefly and awkwardly. "he wants to know if i'm ready to be picked up."

san nods, the air going quiet until an idea comes over. "i can take you." and when you don't answer, he tries testing if he can lighten the atmosphere even if just a bit. "i am renting the car so just don't make a mess."

but when the silence drags on and san can't read your expression, he thinks you don't want anything to do with him at this point, and rightfully so.

"yes," you say, the response picking san's head up to see a small smile you're trying to fight, "yes we can give it a try, and yes, you can give me a ride."

there's something shy but also daring in your tone, san sees the blush raising to your cheeks that brings out the widest smile from him, jumping in your arms to give you the biggest hug.

when he finally pulls away, the look of surprise on your face has him apologizing but you only shake your head with a smile.

"thank you," he whispers, "for giving me the chance. i promise i'll make it up to you."

you nod to his words, the smile still on your lips but unable to say anything due to the overwhelming (good) feelings.

then he goes to scratch the back of his head, a look of awkward and hesitant crossing him before finally saying it, "can i uh, can i kiss you?"

"yes," you actually answer, a giggle that cannot be contained leaving shortly.

and when he does kiss you, his lips just as soft and gentle as you imagined, the kiss even better than you had in your head, you're glad that your friend's instinct was right.

that san does indeed like you and everything he did wasn't just out of kindness and respect.

when you're both pulling away and indulging in a fit of laughter after and shaking your heads at the turn of events, you know he kissed you because it's something he wanted. because he thinks you might be the one.

when the blooming of flowers and trees are fading, along with the soft, gentle breeze of spring that finally passes, you're still in love with san and you're sure he feels the same way.

[humansofnewyork]

“People see it as a fake sport. Whenever you tell someone you play Ultimate, it’s like: oh, is that where you throw a frisbee in a basket? Or is that the one where you throw it to a dog? Whenever I’m talking to someone about it, I just hope they’ll ask me enough questions so that I can talk about UNC Ultimate. That was probably the most special experience I'm ever going to have in my whole life. I was on the team for five years, then I came back and coached. My freshman year we were really, really bad. But at the moment UNC Chapel Hill is triple back-to-back-to-back national champions. And I got to be part of that trajectory. But even though the team kept getting better and better, I kinda stayed at the same level. I never became the elite player that I wanted to be. I have a lot of ‘stick-to-it-ive-ness.’ I’m capable of working really, really hard. And part of me always believed that would be enough, which is the part that burned me out. Because after working so hard, for so long, I reached a plateau. It was physical stuff. I'm just not quick enough. When I play defense I can’t keep up with the fastest offensive handlers. They're going to score, and that's a problem. I ended up getting cut from the elite women’s club team I was on. I switched over to mixed, but ended up tearing my ACL a couple years ago. It’s been my life for ten years, but now I’m at a place where I don't know if I'm ever going to play again. I just don’t know if my body can handle it. I don't want to have another, like massive orthopedic surgery. And frisbee takes up so much bandwidth; there’s so many other things I want to explore. The list is infinitely long. I’m asking myself: could I be happy playing on a mid-level team where the commitment wouldn't be quite as high? Or will I only feel satisfied if I'm exceptional? That’s an unhealthy connection I have in my head, I think. That love is something you need to earn. And being exceptional will make me worthy of having connections with people. It would be great to become a version of myself where I no longer feel that way. And maybe we'll get there someday. We’re working on it. In the meantime, at least I got to talk about UNC Ultimate.”

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 3

[chap two] | [all chapters here] | [chap four]

Summary | You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

Warnings & Notes | fem reader, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

Author's Note | The response to this series has already been so wonderful and unexpected, so big thanks to everyone who's been hyping me up! The next couple parts of this story have kinda a mellow pace, but I'm literally such a long-winded person so idk how to write without adding a tooon of narrative meat lol. Nonetheless, hope everyone enjoys!

Taglist | @costellation-hunter @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @kthomps914 @lotrefcp @marrowfrog00 @mewchiili @munsonssweets @rach5ive @sav12321 @steeldaisies

WC | 3.5k

Chapter Three

Arriving at school on Monday morning, you had almost forgotten about your little meeting with Eddie the day prior. It was such an odd and different encounter that it briefly slipped away from you - after all, it wasn’t everyday you asked someone to be your fake boyfriend. But once you arrived on campus, the sight of Eddie’s van at the far end of the parking lot brought the conversation back to you, making your heart jump in remembrance.

And suddenly, you were nervous. This plan was ridiculous and there were so many damn opportunities for it to go wrong, so many damn holes that could be poked in it. You’d give Eddie a piece of your mind if he managed to fuck this up.

Amelia and Janet were already waiting for you at your locker, your customary meeting spot since freshman year. Whether intentional or not, you knew you were the pseudo-center of the group - you were certainly not the leader, that was Amelia and her brash personality, but it always seemed as if you were the swing vote, the middle ground, the deciding factor. Janet was the most agreeable of you three, generally avoiding confrontation and trying to maintain the peace as best she could amongst your crowd - you figured it was because of her strict upbringing.

As you approached the duo, you felt the conflicting comfort of familiarity butting heads with the frustrated part of you that didn’t want to see them ever again, the part of you that just wanted to run from them. Being a teenager was complicated in that way - as much as you cared about these girls, you also wanted absolutely nothing to do with them anymore.

Amelia and Janet were huddled together, sharing a magazine and excitedly talking about whatever it was that they were reading. Probably some insignificant article about the latest fashion trends of fall (which you secretly were interested in knowing, but you didn’t need to tell them that). Eventually, they heard the close click of your shoes on the linoleum floor, causing Amelia looking up to greet you as Janet continued to skim the page.

“So, feeling old yet?” Amelia teased, leaning back against the locker next to yours as you put in your code.

“Incredibly.” You answered dryly, although there was at least a hint of humor in your tone. It’s not as if you could completely cut them off overnight, that would be an impossible task to ask of anyone.

They both laughed, Janet putting away her magazine while Amelia leaned over your shoulder to check her makeup in the mirror you kept inside your locker. You nudged her out of your way once you had the book that you were looking for, giving her a harsh look out of the corner of your eye.

You knew that, although not perfect, Amelia and Janet weren’t so bad that you needed to be this cold to them - yes, Amelia was unapologetically abrasive and Janet was too agreeably submissive, but you still felt that your attitude towards them was maybe a little unwarranted. But at the same time, your heart and your mind weren’t on the same page. Your head said that they weren’t as bad as you made them out to be, but you could just feel that this friendship was no longer working, that something about it was terribly off and couldn’t be corrected.

As the two began discussing an assignment from a class that they shared, you mulled over your thoughts and feelings about this slowly ending friendship. Neither seemed to notice that you weren’t mentally present to their conversation, that you were somewhere in your own head instead.

After a short while, a duo of football players that you were somewhat familiar with came over to join the conversation. One of them was blatantly flirting with Janet, who seemed absolutely smitten, while the other served as wingman, trying to keep both you and Amelia engaged in conversation. You gave him the coldest shoulder he’d ever encountered, quickly turning all of his attention to Amelia instead.

Paying little to no attention to the group’s conversations, you began to look up and down the hallway absentmindedly, the myriad of conversations drowning each other out, making it easy for your mind to wander. If the group noticed your inattentiveness, they didn’t bring it up. You could have, and maybe should have, just walked away, but you weren’t sure where you’d wander off to until it was time to head to class. You’d have to find a way to get everyone to stop treating your locker like the go-to hang out spot at 7:30 in the damn morning.

As your eyes continued to wander, brain zoned out, your gaze passed over a small cluster of boys about ten feet away. Normally, they wouldn’t have crossed your mind, but today you had to do a double take, realizing that amongst them was Eddie. A friend of his had a locker not far from yours, you remembered at that moment, but it had never mattered before. But it sure mattered now, because you realized Eddie was looking right at you and probably had been for a couple of minutes, just waiting with amusement for you to come out of your reverie and finally noticed his stare. Once you two made eye contact, he smirked and shot you a playful wink.

Despite yourself, it flustered you just a little. You blinked and looked down in surprise, but mentally kicked yourself for the reaction - you could not let Eddie Munson make you nervous, especially when you weren’t actually interested in him in the slightest. You were simply taken aback, you reasoned with yourself, unprepared for the almost genuinely charming look on his face. So, you took a breath, looking back up to find Eddie’s eyes still trained on you. Was this going to be his flirting tactic? If so, it was pathetic, and you hoped that the look on your face told him as much.

You stared at one another for a few long moments, silently challenging each other, testing to see who would do something first. Eventually, Eddie pointed to the corners of his mouth, dragging his fingers up his cheeks while smiling aggressively wide and crossing his eyes as if to make a point, to visually tell you to at least act interested in him. You refrained from rolling your eyes - as challenging as it was - and forced a flirtatious smirk onto your lips, hoping your eyes weren’t saying something your face wasn’t. You weren’t exactly one to put on false airs, so you hoped that you were convincing to anyone that might see you.

Amelia, Janet, and the boys seemed to forget you were there, considering you hadn’t been engaging in the conversation this entire time. But eventually they must have expected you to chime in on something that was said, as they all looked at you expectantly when you didn’t reply right away. Seeing your eyes elsewhere and a hint of a smile on your lips, their brows furrowed and they quickly looked over their shoulders. It was simultaneously exciting and embarrassing to know that they would spot who exactly you were making eyes at.

They didn’t immediately realize it was Eddie that you were looking at, their eyes searching for maybe a familiar acquaintance or someone more stereotypically attractive, someone more to their liking. But then Eddie turned his gaze to them, winking as his grin widened before his eyes returned to you. In the same breath, Amelia and Janet whipped back around to face you with bewilderment while the football players shared a look of confused, judgmental annoyance.

“Don’t tell me you’re making eyes at Munson,” Janet started in disbelief.

“Yeah, what gives?” Amelia chimed in, taking a small step closer to you as if to avoid having the conversation overheard, making it seem like the most dire thing in the world.

You shrug, eyes still trained on Eddie for a moment longer as you tried to hold back your amusement at everyone’s reactions. You were proud that you seemed to actually appear interested, if their reactions were anything to go on.

“I don’t know, he’s kinda cute, isn’t he?”

It appeared that your tone was also as convincing as you were hoping for, because both girls pulled faces at your reply. The football players lingered awkwardly, but didn’t dare chime in on the conversation; after another few tense moments, they said their goodbyes and disappeared quickly down the hall.

Janet dared to briefly look over her shoulder at Eddie again, who now appeared to be in conversation with his friends. But it’s as if he knew he was being watched again, because his eyes immediately flicked up, a grin teasing at his lips as he met Janet’s gaze. She quickly turned away from him as a surprised sound escaped her lips.

Amelia simply made a sound of distaste, her eyes locked on you, “Ew,” She started, “in what world is that freak cute?”

“He is pretty weird…” Janet added, her tone not nearly as harsh as Amelia’s, although you could nonetheless hear her obvious trepidation.

You roll your eyes, a harsh and mocking look on your face, “Jan, you think Anthony Michael Hall is cute.”

Your tone is a touch nasty, and you can see Amelia smirking at the jab despite herself - she and you were in agreement that said actor was not attractive.

“He is!” Janet insisted, looking between you both, “You guys saw Sixteen Candles too.”

“Yeah, and he was a total geek in it.” Amelia responded, a harsh smirk on her lips.

Your gaze drifted back to Eddie, who had finally looked away for a few moments as he conversed with his little gang of nerds. Choosing defiance, you decided to antagonize your friends a little, a mean smirk ghosting over your lips.

“Eddie’s cuter than Anthony Michael Hall, that’s for damn sure.” It felt so wrong to say his name and not just refer to him as “Munson” or “the freak,” but you figured it would make a stronger impact on them if you used his first name.

Both Amelia and Janet made offended sounds in unison, their expressions critical.

“You feeling okay?” Amelia asked, not with concern, but rather with judgment, “I didn’t think the break-up was that hard on you.”

Frustration flared up inside you at that remark - that felt like a personal jab even by Amelia standards. You couldn’t help the sharp look you flashed at her, eyes narrowing, “It wasn’t. Duncan doesn’t matter to me in the slightest.”

As if compelled to confrontation, Amelia couldn’t help but respond in disbelief, “Sure, whatever you say. Munson’s a pretty pathetic excuse for a rebound, though. You could do better.”

You were so damn tempted to continue arguing with her, as you were never one to back down, but seeing motion in Eddie’s direction stopped you from saying anything. Your eyes flicked up to watch as he and his friends started to walk down the hall, coming in your direction. As the group passed you, Eddie came to a halt, taking an exaggerated bow, his eyes locked on yours almost as if he knew what was going on.

“Ladies…” He taunted with a glint in his eyes. As he straightened back up, he looked between the three of you, a goofy smile plastered on his face. As he walked away, he gave you one final, obvious wink.

“Ugh, what a creep…” Janet said while you watched Eddie disappear down the hall. Realizing the time, you abruptly walked off without saying goodbye to either Amelia or Janet. 

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Aside from briefly saying ‘hello’ to one another in math class, you didn’t see Eddie for the rest of the day; and even something as simple as that greeting turned the heads of a few of your classmates. Sure, you may have passed each other in the hall or spotted one another at lunch, but otherwise your schedules didn’t seem to allow for much of each other. That’s something you two would have to figure out once you got deeper into this little scheme of yours.

As your day ended and you made the drive to the ice skating rink, you pondered how exactly you and Eddie would pull this off. Should you be more up front, more assertive? Or should you let Eddie take the reins on that? How quickly should you move things along? Would you really keep this going until graduation? It seemed that you needed to find some time to discuss all these finer details with Eddie, and soon, or else your cover would definitely be blown.

Come Tuesday, your morning started off differently than you expected. As you walked up to the front doors of the school, Eddie seemed to appear out of thin air, slinking up alongside you. Before you realized who it was, you were about ready to tell them to back the hell up, but you caught the words on your tongue once you realized it was him. The sight of Eddie took you by surprise, your face inevitably saying so, as he shot you a playful grin in response.

“Morning, princess,” He greeted, bumping you with his shoulder. Despite wanting to glare at him and his insistence on breaking the oh-so-holy fake dating rules, you held back, instead giving him what you hoped was a coy look.

“Munson,” You answered simply, feeling strange having a conversation with him in the middle of all your peers, all out in the open like this. When you reached the front doors, Eddie held one open for you, which was a pleasant surprise. Once you’d both entered, Eddie remained at your side, a simple look of contentment on his face as you asked dryly, “What grand gestures do you plan to do today?”

“Oh, I’m going to sweep you off your feet,” He begins playfully, seeming to enjoy the occasional glances shot at the two of you, “You’ll be absolutely head over heels by the end of the afternoon.”

You find his humor both mildly amusing and mildly stale, but you nonetheless give him a slight, doubtful smirk, “I’m sure.”

Eddie looked you up and down while cracking another smile; you weren’t sure if he was trying to turn up the charm for show or if he was trying to win you over just a little, “So, when I ask you out, you want a whole show of it? Flowers, balloons, the whole nine yards?”

“Maybe you should drop in from a helicopter, make it really interesting.” You responded coolly. The contrast of your sense of humor versus your monotonous delivery was perhaps a bit jarring and hard for some to get used to, but Eddie nonetheless seemed amused by it.

“So high maintenance.” Eddie chided, to which you gave him a sideways look. You two continued towards your locker, acting as if you didn’t notice people’s glances; you figured Amelia and Janet were already waiting for you, and you definitely wanted to see how they’d react to you and Eddie this morning.

For a few moments, you two walked in a slightly uncomfortable silence, a small reminder that you didn’t actually know each other at all, that this was all make believe. You could feel Eddie stealing glances at you as if he were deciding how to best engage with you in this school setting.

“Just looking at you yesterday was enough to set your friends off.” Eddie finally spoke up again as a wide grin spread across his lips, “Should I flirt a little more aggressively? Really get them worked up about it?”

You also couldn’t help but smirk a little - Amelia and Janet’s reactions were better than you could have anticipated, so much more dramatic than you expected. You were still miffed at Amelia thanks to her comment about Duncan, but you were sure that today she’d act as if nothing happened. Or at least, she’d try to, until seeing you with Eddie.

“We keep going at this rate, and Amelia and I might be in a cat fight by the end of the week.” You gave Eddie a wicked smile, which he didn’t expect, but he nonetheless looked back at you with just as much amusement.

“Maybe I need to step it up a little, then,” He responded as you two rounded the corner, your locker just down the hall. You immediately spotted Amelia and Janet there caught up in conversation, oblivious to you watching them from amongst the crowd of other students. You briefly paused as you studied them, Eddie following suit as he looked between you and them, “Should we go pay them a visit?”

You glanced up at Eddie through your lashes, similar fiendish glints in your eyes; you were wondering the exact same thing as him, debating whether to approach them or breeze on by as if they didn’t exist. Both were equally devious, and you momentarily felt pleased that you chose to make Eddie your fake boyfriend for this plan - in some ways, such as this, maybe you two were actually on the same page.

And then, the deciding factor just so happened to be heading in your friends’ direction.

Duncan walked down the hall with a quiet sort of confidence, and you absolutely loathed him for it. A few friends were with him as he stopped to chat with Amelia and Janet, and even from here his relaxed smile made you want to slap him. You hadn’t even realized you were clenching your jaw until Eddie spoke again.

“Get it together and let’s go over there.” He instructed, looking between your eyes and your tight jaw. He leaned forward a little with a wicked grin, “Come on. This is what you wanted me for, right? Let’s go get a reaction outta them.”

You chose to ignore the mild suggestiveness of Eddie's phrasing, although you did briefly narrow your eyes at him - you weren’t sure why, but you couldn’t help but hate that he was already doing his job well. He had a point, so you put on your best poker face and walked with confidence in the direction of your locker, Eddie right there alongside you. You made an effort to walk closer to him, to convey some kind of comradery, hoping that everyone would buy your bullshit.

Janet, always the most aware of the bunch, spotted you first, her expression shifting with worry. It wasn’t until you were practically on top of the group that the rest of them noticed your arrival, and everyone’s faces fell into various expressions of confusion, annoyance, and loathing. God, they were all so dramatic.

“Excuse me.” You said to one of Duncan’s friends in the bratty tone that most of them were used to, as he was blocking your locker. When he didn’t move right away, your brows shot up in threatening impatience, prompting him to quickly step aside. Eddie’s eyes followed the guy just to make him more uncomfortable as you opened your locker, intentionally letting it swing loudly against the one beside it.

“You lost, Munson?” Duncan questioned in a challenging tone, stepping forward with his gaze trained on Eddie. You turned, prepared to make some quick retort in defense of your fake boyfriend, but he beat you to the punch.

“Do I look lost?” Eddie put on a false look of confusion before a wild grin broke out across his lips. His response caused you to snort out a small laugh, Duncan looking back and forth between you two with skepticism before his eyes finally settled on you.

“Are you serious?” His tone was accusing as he took a step toward you. You kept your face calm and your eyes cold as you rooted around in your locker, hoping that your supposed nonchalance would really get under his skin.

“About what?” You taunted, the corner of your mouth barely pulling up into a smirk. You shut your locker, finally looking Duncan in the face to find him gazing at you with bafflement. The whole group was watching with similar expressions, but you paid them no mind, “This is my locker. If you don’t like what you see, go somewhere else.”

You looked back at Eddie, who seemed to be eating this up, not afraid of showing his amusement plainly across his face. You figured that that was also doing an incredible job of getting under Duncan’s skin.

“Walk me to class?” You prompted with a flirty tone, to which Eddie smiled. It was a look that could have convinced you that he was actually interested if you didn’t know any better.

“Lead the way.” His fingers ever so slightly grazed the small of your back as you walked between him and Duncan, leading him away from the group without looking back at them, as tempting as it was. Eddie followed right behind you, his shoulders nearly brushing yours as you maneuvered through the crowd. Classes hadn’t even started yet, but already you were enjoying this day far too much.

[sxcret-garden]

Haechan ღ Painted with You [M]

ღ NCT Dream Haechan x fem!reader ღ feat.: short mentions of Renjun & Jeno ღ words: ~15k ღ genre: college AU, fwb to lovers, exes to lovers, fluff, slice of life, slow burn, pining, reader is a little dense, angst, humor, smut (switch!Haechan (but sub-leaning), oral (both receiving), hair pulling (idol receiving), unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, some begging, fingering, handjob, edging, orgasm denial (idol receiving), dry humping) ღ warnings: alcohol consumption, depiction of anxiety and reader feeling burnt out, mentions of unhealthy coping mechanisms

Desc.: You and Donghyuck were a couple back in high school, each having your own reasons for dating the other, but ultimately what you seeked out in each other was a distraction. Now that you meet again five years later, you both come to realize that the connection between you is still there, and eventually it’s crystal clear that the people you’ve become won’t be as easily separated as back then.

Author's note: aaaa I've had this in my drafts for sooo long avoiding to proofread it cause I wasn't happy with this at all... so now I finally came back to it to edit a bit and I think in the end it turned out quite okay^^ I hope you guys like it 🫶

There’s a hint of victory in the smile he gives you when you sit down next to him. Like he knew it would come to this - that you’d get bored of exchanging mundanities with the others and eventually find yourself drawn to him as your only escape. And it’s not like you didn’t know it too, it was clear from the moment you greeted each other with a hug that lasted shorter than it should have, and at the same time felt more familiar than you wanted it to. Yet his stance is inviting as he turns his whole body towards you in his seat, and the curiousity in his eyes is apparent.

“Long time no see,” he says, and it comes out softer than you would’ve expected it to. And he probably had the same thought, because he’s clearing his throat now, talking more firmly as he continues, “What have you been up to?” The last time you’ve seen each other was at your high school graduation ceremony, and since then it’s been almost five years. Which, as your former class president Renjun had decided, was about enough time to gather for a reunion. 

“Well, you know. This and that,” you try to avoid an answer, but of course he wouldn’t let you off the hook so easily. He knows you too well for that.

“Come on,” he snorts. “You can tell me. My time wasn’t spent in a purely productive manner either.”

“You probably spent about 3 years total on just playing video games…” you say with a grin playing on your lips, and you make him huff in disbelief, before his expression as well returns to a somewhat mischievous smile. 

“Now that was just tactless,” he says, straightening his back now. “I quit uni to go to work, and then started again with a different major. So now I’m a freshman!” He gives you a peace sign with his hand, sounding a lot prouder about the fact than he should’ve been.

“Feeling like 19 again?” you joke.

“Yes! Everyone automatically assumes I’m their age,” he explains. “But then I tell them I’m older, so I can make them work for me!” An exaggeratedly mischievous laugh follows, and you can only shake your head at his shenanigans.

“You haven’t changed at all,” you say, turning away and facing the bartender working just a few seats away. Originally you were all going out for dinner and nothing more, but when some girls suggested paying a nearby bar a visit, nobody could refuse in the face of getting some booze into their veins. Maybe you aren’t the only one who’s getting fucked over by life.

“One margarita,” you raise your hand and order, then you add, directed at Donghyuck, “Anything for you?”

“Just soju.” And so after placing both your orders, he adds, “Still can’t drink the adult drinks?”

“Excuse you, it has alcohol in it, so it is an adult drink. But if you’re asking if I still hate bitter stuff - yes I do.”

“I see… anyway, I’m not letting you get away without properly answering my question.”

“Too bad,” you respond. “Well…” And then you hesitate. You remember what it was like between the two of you in high school. When you were dating, each for your own reasons and certainly not because you had feelings for each other. But he still felt like a friend you could entrust your deepest feelings with - you knew each other like the back of your own hand. And yet, you find yourself hesitating in the face of five years passed by without a word from the other. It wasn’t like you had a fight or broke up on bad terms. It’s just that you both agreed it would be better not to see each other again, for reasons that seemed smart at the time. But now that you’re looking at the person he’s become and how much he seems to have grown up, you’re not sure anymore what those reasons even were.

“That bad?” Donghyuck interrupts your train of thought as he raises an eyebrow at you, and when you shake your head a short laugh escapes him.

“No, just… I’m also still in university,” you say. “I had to take a year off, so I’m trying to finish everything now. It’s not going great though.”

“Oh…” he looks away, directing his gaze at his hands that he’s hiding in the sleeves of his knitted sweater. “Are you managing though?” And that’s when you suddenly feel the past and the present connect - the way he immediately becomes serious when the situation calls for it, just like he has always done, makes you feel safe to keep speaking, and to keep your heart open, just for a bit.

“It’s… difficult,” you admit. The bartender sets down your ordered drinks, causing another pause, and you acknowledge it with a nod. “I’m trying not to do too much, but you know what’s it like living here.”

“Yeah,” he says. “That fucked you over before, didn’t it?”

“Yeah.” You fall silent after that, but not for long. Your conversation partner is Donghyuck after all, he wouldn’t let an awkward silence get too long.

“I have changed… by the way.” You raise your eyebrows at him as he speaks those words, letting the sip of your cocktail slowly trickle down your throat.

“Have you?” you ask. “Well, I mean… you’ve grown up.”

“Oh?” Suddenly seeing him straightening his back as he’s overjoyed, you can’t but giggle at the way his face is graced with a beaming smile now, but he glosses it over with a cough and a sip of his soju.

“But you sure are still the same guy,” you add, a nostalgic smile on your lips. 

“I guess,” he agrees, his features softening. Another pause falls upon you as you give your cocktail another taste, and this time it’s you who breaks the silence. Continuously chatting, you’re starting to feel a little tipsy from the sweet beverage after a while.

“I heard you got a girlfriend?” Donghyuck huffs, a wide smile meant to hide a bitter feeling appearing on his face.

“Yeah…”

“What about her?” you pry, sensing something off.

“Dumped me,” he simply says, then pointing across the room and at Jeno, one of your former classmates. “For that guy.”

“Ouch.”

“It’s whatever,” he shrugs it off, pouring himself another glass and offering the shot to you instead. “You sure you don’t want any?”

“I’d rather have my own drink, thanks.”

“Alright. Then cheers.” He downs the shot, grimacing at the taste, and when he sets the glass back down, he adds, “I don’t get why she went for him anyway. I bet it’s cause of all that muscle he got.” You can’t help but chuckle at his words, and you hit his upper arm playfully.

“You should hit the gym too and then see if you can get her back.”

“Very funny,” he replies dryly. “I’d rather die.”

“Understandable…” you reply, taking another sip of your drink as well. “So… you’re probably glad I finally came to you.” Donghyuck shoots you a questioning look and you explain yourself. “For a distraction. Like in the old days, you know?”

“Ahh…” He merely lets out a sound, before staring at his empty shot glass. 

“You’re not doing that anymore?” you assume.

“I guess.”

“Yeah… me too,” you say. “Or like… I stopped using people for it.”

You were dating back then, that’s true, but you wouldn’t go as far as to call yourselves high school sweethearts. You were both going through some stuff - for him it was a breakup with his first love, for you it was just life itself. When you were both at your lowest you started talking properly, and it soon became clear that you both wanted nothing more than to escape. And so you formed an alliance - as you used to call it, to everyone else you simply said that you were a couple now. You did behave like a couple, but just for the rush. The first time you held his hand you felt nothing, but when you made out secretly in the backyard of your school instead of attending class, that’s when you were overwhelmed with excitement. It was a stupid idea, you know that now too, and it only worked for so long. You spent the summer of your junior year together, meeting up almost every day and talking, and eventually distracting yourselves by making out secretly in your or his room. And then your final year came, and as you started seeing yourselves forced to take life a bit more seriously, you gradually met up less, until you both agreed that breaking up would be the best decision, so that you could focus on your studies and try to get into a good university. At least for your part, you still have mixed feelings when you remember that day. Because you know you made the adult decision, but at the same time you always end up thinking back to what fooling around with him felt like when you have a bad day now, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss it at least a bit. But you found other distractions - obsessing over tv series, finding just the perfect kind of music to drown out your feelings, and sometimes, whenever you could find a good excuse to drink with friends, alcohol. Though you’re being careful with the latter, just as you are now. One drink is usually enough to help you relax a bit and not pay all the things stressing you out so much thought.

“So when are we gonna start writing your redemption arc?” you ask nonchalantly, and he raises an eyebrow at you. “Your ex.”

“Stop that, for real,” he says, and the way he remains serious tells you your joke wasn’t well received.

“Sorry,” you utter.

“It’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine, but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah.” He’s playing with the glass in his hands, thumb rubbing along its edge as he keeps staring at it, and you take the last few sips of your drink, before you too start spinning the cocktail glass around between your fingers.

“Actually…” Donghyuck speaks up, now throwing you an entirely different look. “How about we get out of here. Maybe we could both use a distraction after all.”

“But-”

“Just for today.” You stare at him blankly, blinking once, twice, then a third time. This sounds like a bad idea, but at the same time you know you’re probably not gonna see each other for the next five years, just like it was for the past five. So what would be so bad about taking his offer now?

“Alright,” you say eventually, having made up your mind. “My place? It’s nearby.” His lips are parted slightly as he watches you jump out of your seat and put on your jacket. As the air around you changes, so does the look in his eyes, and a moment later he gets up too, his arm wrapped loosely around your waist while he holds the door open for you as he walks you out of the place.

“You really have changed,” you comment as you’re sneaking out, so none of the others would notice, and you giggle at your unnecessary secrecy once you’re past the entrance to the building.

“I can be a gentleman too!” he insists. “Of course a high school boy wouldn’t think of that.” You catch the pout that forms on his lips as he adds the last part, and you inevitably laugh, pointing at his face.

“But you’re also really still the same.”

You decide on going to your place, as it’s nearby, and you take a taxi there. Though you know this is only going to be a one time thing, neither of you seems to be in a rush. You take the elevator to the sixth floor, grinning at each other in silence the entire ride - maybe because this reminds the both of you a bit too much of the way you used to sneak off together all the time back in school. But once you arrive at your apartment, the atmosphere between you somehow changes, and as you’re walking over to your little kitchen to offer him a drink, he stops you, wrapping his arm around your waist. His touch is firm now, and he comes to a halt when he’s standing right in front of you, closer than a friend would, but leaving more distance between you than a lover would, and keeping his voice lowered, he asks,

“So… are we going to go right to the distraction part? Or do we need to pretend that we still need to warm up to each other first?” You find him staring at your lips, then returning his gaze to your eyes as he waits patiently for your response. And you don’t manage to come up with anything smart to say to him, so you simply take a step forward, wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders, and you kiss him. His lips feel soft, just like you remember them, melting against yours perfectly. Yet there’s a firmness to his kiss that feels new to you. He used to always kiss you with eagerness, too much of it at times, impatient to feel more of you and for you to take control. It was no secret between you two that he actually quite enjoyed being put into his place by you, and now that there’s no such intentions apparent behind the way he moves his lips against yours, you find yourself having your breath taken away by the time you part. 

“You really did grow up well…” you mutter, barely an inch apart. “Did your ex teach you to kiss like that?” 

“Watch your mouth, Y/N,” he mutters darkly, another side of him that’s not exactly new to you, but one that you haven’t seen a lot in the past. And then he simply brushes his lips against yours again, softly and with care, quite in contrast to his sharp words. “I don’t wanna ruin this with thoughts about people I don’t know anymore.”

“Right…” you whisper, and before you can add a mumbled apology, he presses his lips to yours again. In between short kisses that inevitably leave you longing for more, he steers you closer to the wall behind you, until he has you trapped against it. Your shoulders meet the cold surface gently, and as you’re slowly getting to know this different side of him, you feel yourself being swept off your feet like he never knew how to. 

One of his hands resting on your waist, his fingertips creep towards your hip as you’re sharing an open mouthed kiss. A moan escapes you when he presses you up against the wall closer, and as he slowly parts from you, you can see the playful grin showing on his face now.

“You changed too,” he comments, and again he closes the distance between you without giving you a chance to question his words. Your hands finding their way up into his short hair, your fingers get tangled with the strands and you carefully tug at them as he deepens this kiss as well. He’s kissing you slowly as you let him have the lead naturally, and as you keep making out like this, you eventually find yourself burning up whole under his touch. He moves from your mouth to your neck eventually, and you lean your head back with a deep sigh as he begins scattering hot kisses all over the area. His hand that’s been propped up against the wall now finds the back of your nape to support you, and when he comes back up, he whispers a question,

“Do we keep going like we used to? Or do you wanna go all the way this time?” Drunk on his kisses, you pull him in for another one on the mouth, and as you part you mutter,

“We’re not kids anymore. Let’s go all the way.” You step aside and he lets you, and you reach for his hands to walk him over to your couch. Giving him a push, he lets himself fall back onto the sofa, leaning against the backrest as his curious gaze never leaves you. “Don’t need this anymore…” you mumble as you pull off your shirt and throw it somewhere onto the ground, and then you crawl into his lap to straddle him. His hands find purchase on your hips immediately as he looks up at you with warm eyes. You cup his face in your hands and you lean in, capturing his lips in a teasing kiss. Sinking your teeth into his bottom lip, you lure a breathy moan out of him, and wanting to hear more, you keep kissing him like that. Feathery touches that would for sure make him want more eventually become overshadowed by you rolling his hips on top of him, and with each time he lets you hear his voice you become more eager. It’s almost as if you’ve become the one who can’t wait, and he’s the one acting with patience.

“Never knew you could turn me on this much,” he mutters as you pull back, moving your hips at a leisurely pace. You can undoubtedly feel the bulge in his pants, and it’s certainly not leaving you unaffected.

“I grew up too, Hyuck,” you say, and then you bury your face in his neck. You kiss a trail up to the spot right below his ear as he leans back, and his hands wander up your sides and to your back when you start nibbling on his skin. 

“Mhm… you did, hm?” he answers. He finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it, and as the piece of clothing slides down your arms, you sit back so he can take it off you and fling it to the ground as well, somewhere in the general direction of where your shirt should be. He holds onto your sides as he takes in the sight in front of him, and as he draws closer to connect his lips to the skin on your chest, you can hear him saying,

“I know I never told you this as a boy but you look beautiful. I really regret not saying that to you.” He kisses his way up from the valley of your breasts to your throat and then back to your mouth, and just before he can connect his lips to yours, you whisper,

“It’s fine. I might’ve actually fallen for you if you had done that.” You laugh, and he does too, but his grin has a different meaning to it than yours.

“Don’t say that. We don’t want anything unfortunate to happen.” Connecting his lips to yours, he runs his tongue across them to ask for permission to enter, and without protest you let him deepen the kiss.

“Now you’re the one who said it,” you mumble a response in between kisses. “That’s a stupid thought anyway.”

“Right.” His fingertips dance south along your spine, and he eventually tugs at your pants as a sign that he wants those off as well. And so you peel yourself out of his hold, and while you’re discarding your jeans, he slips out of his shirt, and both clothing items land somewhere on the floor, soon to be forgotten. He makes you lie down flat on the couch as he crawls on top of you, and when he leaves a trail of small kisses up your torso, one of his hands finds its way to your hips, thumb hooking under the fabric of your panties.

“These too,” he says. “I want these off too.” You give him the okay to take them off as you comb your fingers through his hair once, and as soon as he’s gotten rid of the last piece of clothing on your body, he lowers himself to let his lips draw a map of your figure. Feeling his warm hands against your sides, you let out a sigh as you lean your head back and you close your eyes for a bit, just enjoying the way his kisses feel against your skin. Your hands fly to his hair again, and you find yourself massaging his scalp as he’s slowly going down on you. You let him lift your legs up onto his shoulders eventually, and when he buries his face between your legs, you can’t but let out a small moan. Tongue lapping at your folds, he hums at your taste, and then he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it gently. 

“That feel good?” he asks, slurring his words a bit, and you nod, tugging at the strands of hair between your fingers.

“Yeah. Keep going…” And so he does, alternating between teasing you with his lips and the tip of his tongue, and when he retrieves one hand to slide his fingers inside you, he comments,

“So wet for me, hm?”

“Y-yeah…” You can unmistakably feel the knot in your stomach being tied tighter with every single touch of his, and when he pumps his fingers in and out of you at a frustratingly slow pace, you find yourself begging for more. “Faster… p-please…” Donghyuck simply hums at your plea, before he obliges, curling his fingers inside you just a little faster. Gradually picking up on speed, the way he flicks his tongue against your clit along with the waves of pleasure that run through your body with each time he hits that sweet spot inside you make you slowly lose your mind, and you let him know just how good he’s making you feel by moaning in tune with his movements.

“Don’t stop… please don’t stop…” you mewl as you look down on yourself to find him already gazing back up at you, observing all of your reactions closely through half-lidded eyes. Just a few more repetitions and he’s throwing you over the edge, making you clench around his fingers as you throw your head back with a moan. “Fuck…” you mutter after he pulls out of you carefully, and he crawls back up to kiss you on the lips. You can taste yourself on his tongue as you share a lazy kiss, and once you part, you place your palms on his chest to push him off you.

“Your turn,” you simply state as you sit up and you make some space so you can comfortably kneel in front of the sofa. Getting the message, he hurriedly rids himself of his pants and boxers, and when he sits down in front of you, you don’t waste another second to wrap your fingers around his length. Giving him a few strokes, he’s fully hard in no time, and he watches as he leans back, enjoying the attention.

“You really have no patience anymore, huh,” he mutters, and you lick your lips before returning his gaze.

“Want me to torture you a bit? Make you beg for it? I can do that too.”

“I can beg if you want me to,” he retorts, the confident expression not being wiped off his face so easily, and you decide to keep that piece of information in mind. Just in case. But for now you’re not planning on making him wait - he’s right, you’ve become impatient, and you’re dying to know what kind of sounds you might lure out of him with his dick in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his tip a few times, watching him part his lips slightly as he lets you hear a deep sigh and a praise directed at you. “That’s right…” he mutters, and when you take his tip into your mouth fully, he lets you hear a moan so sweet, you swear you could cum just from the sound of it. Slowly bobbing your head up and down and having your hand that’s wrapped around his base follow those same movements, you enjoy the way he keeps moaning at your ministrations, until eventually you hum in approval and he whines from the pleasure.

“Fuck…” A curse escapes him when his tip hits the back of your throat and you gag a little, and you find yourself amused at how easy it is to make a guy whine as soon as you have him in a position like this. You go painfully slow, but he takes all of your teasing, and just when you start feeling bad for him because of how desperate his moans are, you speed up, making sure to take him in as far as you can. 

“Shit, Y/N…” he calls out to you. “Wait-”

“Hm?” You come up at his words, letting him slip out of your mouth.

“Wanna cum in your pussy…” The request makes you grin.

“So demanding…” you mutter, shooting him a challenging look.

“Please…” he tries to convince you, his pupils shaking as he’s awaiting your answer. But you’ve already made up your mind on how you’re going to proceed, and so you merely throw him a grin, before taking him back into your mouth. He throws his head back at you sucking him off at a faster pace now, probably in a mixture of frustration and pleasure, and as more curses fall from his lips along with your name, you know he’s close. You hum at his desperation and at the way he’s twitching in your hand while he’s bucking his hips up into your touch, and the next time you’re sinking all the way down on him, he cums with a moan. You try to swallow everything as he releases into your mouth, and when you let go of him you lick your lips to get the rest of it too, all while he watches with a hazy mind. And then you crawl into his lap, leaving a trail of kisses down the side of his throat, and eventually you say,

“Why not both?” You grab his face in one hand, gaze falling to his lips, and before he can say anything you kiss him to cut off his train of thought. “We have so much time tonight…” you mutter against his lips in between kisses, and he merely lets out small moans at your words. “We can do all the things we want. But let’s move somewhere more comfortable first.” And so you hurriedly walk over to your bedroom, Donghyuck pushing you against the mattress as soon as you’re there, and he doesn’t waste a single second to kiss you again. His lips nipping at your collarbones, you throw your arms around him, until finally you switch positions again, and you end up sitting on top of him, sinking down on his hard cock and biting your lower lip from how good it feels to be filled up like this.

“Fuck…” Now it’s you who’s cursing, fingers intertwined with his as you’re pinning his hands down to keep yourself stable. You know he’s drinking up the sight in front of him as you start slowly riding him, and the way he looks at you only turns you on more. 

“Shit, you look so pretty like this…” he mumbles, completely taken aback, and he sits up, freeing his hands to hold onto your sides instead. “Can I kiss you?”

“You’re asking that now?” you chuckle as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and he lets out a short laugh as he too realizes how ridiculous his question was.

“You’re right,” he mutters, leaning in. “Then I’ll just kiss you whenever I want.” A rush of heat courses through your body as he presses his lips against yours, and you roll your hips on top of him just a little faster.

“Please do,” you whisper, barely audible, before Donghyuck closes the distance between you again. You take your time making out, until both of you feel that you’re coming close again, and with one hand between your bodies, he starts rubbing your clit for you as you keep your pace.

“I’ll help you,” he whispers, unable to take his eyes off your face as you’re both completely drunk on the other’s touches.

“Mhm…” you moan, chasing your own high on top of him. You’re the first one who comes undone, digging your nails into his shoulders and burying your face in the crook of his neck as your high shakes you.

“Don’t stop, Y/N…” His words sound desperate, and you do your best to keep moving despite feeling the overstimulation building up. He has both his hands on your back now, and you let out a moan when you feel him dragging his nails down to your hips. “Shit…!” Spitting out a curse, he releases inside you, and finally you come to a halt. You stay in your positions for a while, waiting until your heartbeats have returned to a normal pace in each other’s arms, before you both lie down side by side, out of breath and grinning at the other.

“Didn’t think you’d get that good without me…” he mutters a comment.

“Hey!” you shout playfully. “What was I supposed to do if you just disappear on me like that?”

“You didn’t contact me either,” he tries to defend himself, but you both know it was him who stopped replying to your messages, even though your conversations were already scarce after graduating. For now you decide to say nothing - your mind filled with bliss from what your night out ended up turning into, you wouldn’t want to ruin the mood. Instead, he’s the one to break the silence.

“Wanna keep going?” he asks, scooting over closer to you and making you lie flat on your back, kissing a trail down your jawline and placing a hand on top of your stomach. “I wanna keep going,” he adds, more silently, as his fingers are already wandering south.

“Alright,” you mutter, your hand up in his hair again as he drags his fingers down your folds, dipping inside once and then coming back up to your clit to draw circles onto it. “If I walk weird tomorrow it’s your fault,” you add, laughing.

“You just made me wanna see that,” he jokes back, before pressing a kiss to the side of your throat and letting his fingers take care of you.

You keep in touch after that, texting each other throughout the day - even on those days where you barely find the time or energy to be social, you’ll at least send some memes back and forth - and meeting up whenever you both have some free time. It really feels like you’re continuing right where you had left off five years ago whenever you find yourselves unable to stop laughing because of your own bickering, or when you’re sitting side by side, having a more serious conversation and simply offering an open ear to the other. And at the same time something about the way you treat each other has undoubtedly changed. Of course you both grew up and you’re more mature than you were as high school students, but it seems there’s something else lingering in the air during every interaction you have, you just can’t really put your finger on what that is. 

You also keep meeting up to have sex. 

“So? What does that make us?” you ask a question into the dimly lit room, staring up at the ceiling. You’re both lying side by side on his bed, the sheets beneath you messed up as evidence of what you’ve been doing, and the chilly air in the room hitting your skin lets you cool down a bit.

“What? This?” Donghyuck asks, turning his head so he could look at you.

“Yeah,” you respond. “We’re not just friends if we’re constantly hooking up, are we?” Your words are accompanied by a chuckle, meant to tell him that you’re not being as serious as you sound. Or maybe you are, but mostly because your other friends keep asking where you’re sneaking off so frequently these days, and why you don’t seem to have the time to meet up with them anymore. And everytime you tell them you’re seeing a different friend, a part of you feels like you’re lying. Maybe that’s because they’ve stopped believing you too, and they keep urging you on to finally admit that you’re dating someone. But you’re not dating Donghyuck, right?

“Fuckbuddies?” He rolls onto his side, head supported by his hand, and he gives you a mischievous look.

“I guess,” you say, and after some consideration you add, “My friends keep asking who I’m meeting all the time. They think I have a boyfriend.”

“Well, what does it feel like when you kiss me?” You’re too stunned to speak for a moment, not expecting him to pose such a serious question.

“I mean… you’re a good kisser?” You grin at him, rolling onto your side as well so you could face him, and as you’re drawing near, he’s already reaching out to capture your chin between his thumb and index finger.

“That’s all?”

“I think so.” He lets his lips brush against yours, puffy and reddened from making out earlier, and you feel warmth wrap around you. You also feel safe with him, but that’s not exclusively related to him kissing you, so you don’t feel the need to mention it.

“Then I can’t be your boyfriend,” he mutters when you part.

“So friends… with benefits then?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, great,” you say, letting yourself fall onto your back, sinking into the mattress. “I can’t go around telling my friends that I’m seeing a fuckbuddy.” Your friend giggles beside you.

“I mean you don’t have to,” he says. “If it’s easier to explain, you can just pretend you’re seeing a boyfriend. I don’t mind.”

“I wonder…” you mumble, more to yourself than to him. “Then they’ll want to meet you, so… anyway.” You sit up, letting your feet dangle off the side of the bed. “I’m kinda hungry. You wanna order something?”

“I’ll make us some ramen. But we should shower first.” He sits up as well, and when you throw him a look over your shoulder, he cocks his head to the side, giving you another grin. “Together?” You laugh at his suggestion.

“You just want another round in there, don’t you? We’re never gonna get food in that case. I’m going alone.”

“Awww…” he whines in defeat and it makes you smile. You crawl closer to him, placing a peck onto his pouting lips.

“We kiss an awful lot for fuckbuddies, though,” you remark, and then you get up.

“I don’t think we’re kissing nearly enough…” he mumbles an answer. Amused by his words, you shoot him another glance, and then you trot off to the bathroom. 

“You free Friday night?” You glance at your phone screen when it lights up to quickly read Donghyuck’s message that you just received, and as you let out a sigh, you return your focus to the notebook in front of you. Skimming through your handwritten notes from the lecture you visited every wednesday afternoon a year ago still gives you anxiety - you’re not sure what more you’re supposed to study than this and the materials displayed on your laptop screen, and yet you don’t feel nearly prepared enough. You’re in your last semester - or at least you’re planning for this to be the last one - and you finally forced yourself to register for the exam you keep postponing because you horribly failed it the first time. The worst part is that it’s an oral exam, so no turning back once you’ve answered (or not answered) a question, even if a better response comes to you later on during the exam. And you hate that, because you know your brain tends to black out in stressful situations, and panicking while you’re supposed to recite your knowledge on a complicated topic doesn’t exactly help with that. You tear your eyes away from the materials eventually, taking another sip of your coffee and then picking up your phone off the small round dinner table in your flat.

“Sorry, I don’t have time then ㅠㅠ” You press send, and it doesn’t take long for your friend to reply.

“On the weekend? I’m busy Saturday but Sunday is fine!!”

“I don’t think I can make time until Tuesday. Sorry. Difficult exam coming up…”

“Then you should take a break!! I’m sure you’ve been studying all day” He’s not wrong with his assumption, but still you can’t bring yourself to set aside a few hours to fool around with him. You wouldn’t be able to relax and truly get the exam off your mind anyway, so you refuse again, even if it hurts you.

It’s been like this for a while now. The last time you’ve seen Donghyuck’s face was almost three weeks ago - after that university and sending job applications have taken up all your free time, and the few hours you had in between to rest you simply spent alone in the comfort of your own apartment, feeling too exhausted to even consider making plans with someone else. You know it might do you good to get out more for other things than going to uni, but at the same time you know you simply don’t have the energy right now - or you would’ve already scheduled a meetup with friends. It sucks, and you’re hoping for some space to breathe in between your schedules sometime soon, but at the same time you know you will be busy with uni until your graduation, and from then on you’ll be busy getting accustomed to work and proving yourself there. And the more you think about it, the more it starts to dawn on you that things will likely not change in the near future, and that somehow the life of a freshman and that of a senior don’t really match well at all.

But you brush those thoughts off for now. The last thing you need right now is a distraction, and so you get back to revising the contents for the exam.

And then comes Sunday afternoon, and you can feel the panic coursing through your veins as if you were about to suffocate from it any second now. You’ve always had some kind of exam anxiety, but it’s never been this bad, and you have absolutely no idea what to do with it except endure and hope that tomorrow will pass quickly. That’s when your phone buzzes to let you know you’ve gotten a message, and what you see when you open the chat room tips you over the edge. 

“This would’ve been more fun if we had watched it together~” - along with a picture of a laptop screen showing the credits of a movie, the interior of Donghyuck’s flat showing in the background. Your hands are shaking as you read his message, your head spinning because suddenly the stress and a feeling of helplessness overwhelms you. You end up doing the first thing that comes to mind - you call him. He picks up after the first ring.

“Jealous?” he teases you, and you stay quiet, your words suddenly stuck in your throat. Hearing only your ragged breathing, he sounds serious when he continues talking after a few moments of silence. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“What’s up? Wanna talk about it?”

“...the exam…”

“Ahh… you’re freaking out because of it?”

“Y-yeah…” Tears well up in your eyes, but you fight hard to keep them from falling. You know if you start crying now, chances are you won’t be able to talk properly in order to explain yourself to him. “I studied everything but I don’t feel like it’s enough… I have no idea how I’m supposed to pass tomorrow…” A sob escapes you at the end of it, and Donghyuck doesn’t hesitate to answer,

“I’ll come over. Just wait for me and hold tight, I’ll be there in 30.” 

And so that’s what he does. He doesn’t even give you the time to refuse when he hangs up, and sure enough roughly 30 minutes later he’s at your doorstep. Putting down his bags and taking off his shoes, the first thing he does is pull you into a tight hug.

“Come here,” whispered against the side of your head as he’s already holding you close, he hugs you until he can feel some of the tension leaving your body. When he finally lets you go, he picks up a paper bag he brought with him, holding it out to you and you take it from him. “I bought them on the way. I thought you could use some comfort food.” A glance inside the bag reveals a box decorated with the logo of your favourite bakery.

“Oh my god… thank you!” you exclaim, and you give him another hug as he lets out a bit of an awkward laugh.

“Ah, it’s fine, it’s nothing. Let’s have these while we go over your materials together, okay?”

“Huh?” You take a step back and raise your eyebrows at him.

“I came to help you study. So you can kick ass tomorrow!” Throwing a fist in the air in a victorious gesture, you cringe a bit at his childlike enthusiasm, but at the same time you feel thankful. Like you had been in free fall for the past days and finally someone came to catch you.

“Okay,” you accept his offer to help, and then you walk over to the small table in your living room where your laptop and your notes are scattered all over. Briefly organizing them, you skim through them together, and when you’ve reached the end of it, Donghyuck starts asking you random questions related to the topic that he can come up with. And with every question that you manage to answer, you feel just a little calmer, until you’ve gone through everything several times and it’s long dark outside.

“You’re gonna do well tomorrow,” the guy sitting next to you tells you, throwing his hand up in the air to do some stretching and you do the same, your body aching for a bit of movement after sitting down for hours. 

“You think so?”

“Of course!” He seems almost offended at you doubting yourself now. “Look at all these things you memorized perfectly! You’re gonna be just fine.”

“You’re right…” you mutter. “I do feel more confident now.” Yet, you let your head hang.

“But…?” he asks.

“But… I know by the time the exam starts tomorrow I’ll be so nervous, I might forget everything…” He reaches for your hands, taking them into his and giving both of them a gentle squeeze as he looks intently at your face.

“Then you think about how well you just did and how long we just spent repeating everything you studied. With this much preparation, there’s no way you would fail.” You know that realistically speaking, that’s not necessarily true, but you decide to believe him for now. Putting trust into his words puts you at ease, so that’s what you’re going to do.

“Alright,” you say. “It’ll be fine.”

“Of course it will,” he says, laughing as if he had not a single doubt about it.

“But…”

“Another but?”

“It’s almost 2am,” you say.

“Oh.”

“Wanna stay over? It takes you ages to get home if you have to take the night buses, right?”

“It’s fine, I’ll just take a taxi,” he replies, adding, “I don’t wanna stress you out more by staying over.”

“No, I-” All the times you felt yourself forced to turn down his invitations to meet up during the past few weeks are suddenly fresh in your memory, and eventually you manage to say, “I’d actually be thankful if you could stay over… you know… keep the bad thoughts away…”

“Sure…” he responds, and growing very quiet suddenly, he gets up to wrap you into another hug. “I’ll stay.”

You each take a shower and get ready for bed, him throwing on some of his clothes you had lying around at your place anyway, and when you get under the sheets together, it feels different than usually when you sleep in the same bed. Neither of you has any thoughts about having sex for a change, and instead he simply pulls you close to let you rest your head on top of his chest. You wrap an arm around his waist as you listen to his heartbeat, already feeling sleepiness overcome you as you snuggle up to him and you can feel him drawing mindless patterns onto your skin. You feel a sense of peace and safety washing over you when your eyelids simply fall shut, and as you fall asleep you almost don’t register the way he presses a soft kiss onto your forehead.

When you open the email telling you that you got a C on your exam, the first thing you can think of doing is letting Donghyuck know. 

“I passed!!!” You send him a message, and he surely doesn’t let you wait too long for an answer, along with a little sticker of a bear wearing a gold medal and giving a thumbs up.

“I told you so!!”

“It’s all thanks to you,” you write. “We need to go celebrate! Drinks on me.”

“Sounds good~”

With a broad smile on your face you put your phone into the pocket of your padded jacket. It has become cold outside, and there’s a thin layer of snow on the streets from last night. It’s the beginning of December, and before Christmas and new years you’re still going to be very busy. You have two job interviews coming up, have to prepare for your final exams and in between you should find some time to work on your dissertation. Still somehow you’re confident that you would easily be able to find a date where you can go out for your little celebration with your friend, but when you run into him on campus a week later, reality hits you right in the face.

“Y/N!” Donghyuck calls out to you as he spots you among a bunch of other students, and you fall behind to briefly talk to him.

“Oh, hi,” you say, not having seen him at all.

“You still didn’t reply to my messages,” he remarks and you immediately pull out your phone, indeed finding that you’ve left him on read two days ago.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you apologize as you remember that you clearly had the intent to respond to him, but then very obviously failed to do so. “Ah, if we can meet… today?” 

“Yesterday,” he corrects you. “But I guess that didn’t happen…” You can unmistakably see the disappointment in his expression, even though he’s doing his utmost to hide it, and you furrow your brows at the sight in front of you. 

“I’m sorry… I must’ve forgotten to reply while studying or something,” you say, unable to look him in the face. “You know, finals coming up.”

“Yeah… I’m studying a lot too these days,” he says, quickly adding, “But I guess as a senior it’s only natural that you’re even busier than I am.” His words sting for some reason, but it’s not like he’s wrong. Truth be told, you’ve been studying every free minute for the past few days, and in between you had a job interview that you don’t have the best of gut feelings about. You were so busy that you barely manage to have three meals a day, and yet you feel guilty about not being able to make time for him.

“I’m really sorry, Hyuck…” you say and he mutters an “it’s okay” as an answer. “But it’s not, is it?” To that he merely glances to the side, showing a sorry smile. And right then you have an idea. “You know what?” As you reach out to take his hand into yours, he raises his eyebrows at you, taken by surprise by your sudden action. “Let’s set a date right now. Then we don’t have to worry about me forgetting to reply or something.” 

“But… that won’t change the fact that you’re super busy…” he reasons, but you cut him off.

“It’s fine, I should be able to spare at least a few hours,” you say, opening your calendar app on your phone and scrolling through the days until exam week starts. “How about next Friday? Friday night sounds like a good time for a little study break and having a celebration instead.”

“S-sure.” You barely notice how he’s atypically dumbfounded at your enthusiasm, only focusing on the fact that you finally found a date to see each other again.

“Great! My place or yours?” you ask, already typing it into your phone.

“Mine… you wanna bring the drinks? Then I’ll take care of the food,” he offers, now taking his phone out as well, probably to put the meet up into his calendar as well.

“Sounds good,” you say in a rush. “Then I’ll see you Friday! Sorry, but… I really have to go now. I was gonna study some more at the library - you coming too?”

“Ah, no, I… have class in half an hour,” he explains briefly, and as you wave your goodbyes and you’re already running off, you fail to notice how his shoulders are suddenly slouched over and there’s a hint of disappointment in the way he looks at you as you’re walking away.

You sigh as you stare at the email you just received, and you immediately regret even checking your mailbox in the middle of studying in the first place. You got rejected for the last job you applied to - but at least you should be thankful that they let you know about it in the first place, right? After all, the last two companies didn’t even do that much after your interview with them. You gulp, trying to swallow all the disappointment bubbling up inside and attempting to shove it back down to where it came from, and then eventually you cross your arms on the table, resting your head on top and you close your eyes for a while. Another sigh escapes you, and you feel the weight of your responsibilities lay heavily on your shoulders. You’re trying not to beat yourself up over not having found a job for after your graduation yet - you know that everyone’s struggling with finding employment these days. But you really don’t want to take on a job you’re overqualified for, or one that’s not in your field of studies at all. You’ve already made too many compromises because of this, like being willing to move to another city for your job, or expanding on what type of positions you’re applying to. And still, nothing. It’s starting to get to you, even though you hate that it is, and even though you had told yourself to focus on your exams and your dissertation first and foremost. But all of these things stacked on top of each other have led you to lose your spark a bit, and there’s no denying you’re starting to feel burnt out. 

You tell yourself it’s fine, it will pass and eventually your life will get less stressful again. But for now you can feel that you’re at your limit, and you could really use some comfort.

“Right,” you mutter to yourself, lifting your head and looking at the date displayed in the bottom corner of your laptop screen. “Only a few hours to go. Then I can see him.” It’s Friday afternoon, and so you take a deep breath and bring yourself to study some more, before you can finally go to Donghyuck’s place, spending a full evening not having to think about any of this. Burying your head in your books and your lecture notes, you end up not realizing how fast the time is passing, and next time you check the clock, it’s already past 7. 

“Oh god…” you quickly pick up your phone, seeing that your friend already sent you a message asking where you are. You were scheduled to be at his place at 7, but somehow you completely lost track of time.

“I’m so sory I didn’t realize hwo late is is. Ill hurry!!” You type up that message as quickly as possible, ignoring the typos as you send it, and then you jump out of your seat to get ready. 

It’s almost 8pm when he opens the door for you and you apologize first thing as you hand him the tote bag with the alcohol you had promised to bring.

“Ah, but you thought of the important stuff,” he says with a forced smile, trying to brighten the mood a bit before he invites you in and you kick off your shoes and take off your coat to follow him inside.

“I’m really really sorry,” you say once again when you’ve made yourself comfortable on his couch. “I was studying and suddenly it was already this late…”

“It’s okay,” Donghyuck says as he carries over two glasses from the kitchen, handing you one of them. “We’re both busy, it’s not like I don’t understand.”

“But you’re upset.”

“A little,” he admits without looking you in the eyes, and when he continues talking, he does his best to sound cheerful. “But let’s not let that ruin the entire evening. We were both looking forward to today, right?”

“Yeah,” you say. “You won’t believe how glad I am to finally be here,” you add, and you feel the way your body relaxes just by being near him. You earn yourself a bright smile for that comment, before he lifts up the glass in his hand.

“I found the recipe for this a few days ago and wanted to try it,” he says. “I thought it’s your style.” You find a few ice cubes swimming in the beverage he handed you, along with a slice of lemon. The color is a dark shade of yellow at the bottom, and completely transparent at the top, and you nod at the presentation.

“It looks good,” you say. “I’ll try it. Cheers!” Each taking a sip, you agree that you like the taste, and the guy sitting next to you on his sofa explains,

“The recipe says you should put a bit of mint in as well, but… I didn’t have any.”

“I think it’s good the way it is… but, I’m starving. Let’s order food?”

“Me too,” he answers, getting out his phone. 

You order takeout, and while you eat and drink, you watch a movie that you’ve both been wanting to see for some time. You end up chatting here and there during less interesting scenes, and even though you enjoy the movie overall, you enjoy talking to him more. Eventually, as your eyelids begin to feel heavy, you rest your head on his shoulder and he lets you, and you don’t think anything of the peaceful smile he gives you upon feeling you so close to him. He puts one of his hands on top of your thigh, mindlessly rubbing his palm up and down, and by the end of the movie you can’t deny anymore that his actions are affecting you. Credits still rolling, you turn your head to face him, and wordlessly you kiss him, his lips melting against yours. You part for a mere second in which you put your hand behind his neck, and as you let yourself fall against the backrest of his sofa, he hovers above you, distance closing again. 

“Hyuck…” you breathe his name when you part the next time. “Need you…”

“Let’s go somewhere more comfortable,” he mutters into a sweet kiss, and then he gets up, taking you by your hands to pull you up along with him. As soon as you step into the bedroom you pull him in for another kiss, and you stumble backwards as he steers you towards his bed. He barely lets you lie down when he’s already on top of you, kissing you more deeply. Tongue running across your lip to ask for permission to enter, you allow it without hesitation, and you moan at the way he kisses you slowly but passionately. 

“I’ll take care of you,” he says after parting, “just lean back, okay?”

“Okay…” you answer and he lets his fingertips wander down your clothed body. Undoing the button of your jeans, he unhurriedly slips his hand inside them, and he watches you intently as his fingertips brush against your soaked panties, his voice sultry as he teases you, “So wet already… I didn’t know you were that desperate for me…” Before letting you answer, he leans in to place a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth, starting to rub up and down between your folds slowly.

“I thought I’d go crazy without this…” you confess, arms wrapped around him and one hand up in his hair. You play with his locks as he teases you, and you whine, “More, please… don’t make me wait even longer…”

“What do you want, baby?” he asks, and then he buries his face in your neck, leaving kisses there as you throw your head back.

“Anything… even if it’s just your fingers, please just get me off…” you beg, only now realizing just how desperate you really are. Donghyuck gulps at your words, and he kisses his way up to your jaw and along it, until his lips are hovering right above yours.

“Tell me how badly you need me…” he mutters, pushing the fabric of your underwear aside so he could touch you directly. “I wanna hear everything.” As he starts rubbing small circles on your clit his lips go back to tending to your neck, kissing and nipping on the sensitive skin and making it that much more difficult for you to form coherent sentences. Still you can’t but do as told.

“So bad… need you so bad,” you mewl. “I tried to get off so many times, but nothing feels as good as when you touch me…” He hums at your words, granting you a finger dipping inside your pussy for just a moment in return and gasping at just how wet you are.

“I’ll make up for it,” he says. “I’ll make you cum so good.” You whimper, and then you instinctively buck your hips as his finger ghosts above your entrance. You hear him curse through gritted teeth at how needy you’re becoming, and blood rushes to your head from the thought alone that your state could turn him on so much as well.

“Please… just give me your fingers…” you whine, and to your surprise Donghyuck doesn’t drag out his teasing for longer. And so you cry out when he pushes inside, pumping in and out of you while watching your every reaction to his touch. “Fuck…” you hiss, already seeing your high approaching from far away. “I’m not gonna last long…”

“It’s okay,” he coos over you. “Wanna feel you cum around my fingers… can you take another one?”

“Y-yes… yes please…” you say mindlessly, only being able to think about how you want to feel him more. The stretch is bearable when he pushes into you with three fingers, and when he presses his thumb against your bundle of nerves, fingering you skillfully, you think you’re about to lose your mind. “Fuck… yes… don’t stop, please…” you mewl as he slowly picks up speed until he can see the bliss on your facial features. At this point all you can do is moan his name and dig your nails into his shoulder blades as you cling to him, bucking your hips in chase of your orgasm. 

“Shit, you’re so pretty…” you hear him mutter under his breath as he marvels at the sight in front of him, and next thing you know your whole body is shaken by the force of your high. You whine as he fucks you through it, right until your last aftershocks, and then you simply close your eyes as you lay back on his bed, feeling the exhaustion from the past weeks taking over you. Licking his fingers clean after pulling out of you, he then captures your chin between his thumb and index finger to make you look at him.

“What do you want me to do next?” he asks, his words sounding maybe even sweeter than usual to your ears, and you blame it on the way your mind is still in a haze from your orgasm. You think about it for a short while, and in the end you simply snuggle up to him closely.

“Let’s just… stay like this for a while,” you answer. “If that’s okay with you… I think I just need to be close to you.”

“Sure…” Donghyuck mutters, a bit taken aback by your response that must’ve come very unexpectedly to him. However, he doesn’t hesitate to put an arm around your frame, making you feel safe in a warm embrace. “That good?” he asks, and when you nod he presses his lips against your forehead, lingering there for a while.

You don’t move, not knowing how much time is passing while you’re merely listening to the other’s breathing and enjoying each other’s warmth. At that moment, you wish you could stay like this forever, but as you close your eyes and begin to relax, all your thoughts from the past weeks about your situation with him catch up to you one by one. Deep inside you know it can’t stay like this. And the longer you’re dragging this out, the more clearly you can see just how unfair this is on him. And so eventually, you don’t see any other plausible course of action to take next than to start talking.

“Thank you… for being by my side,” you mutter. Your hand having found its way into his, you’re playing with his fingers, eyes focused on that. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you lately… really.”

“Of course!” he responds, moving back a bit to get a proper look at your face. “You know I’d do anything for you.” You chuckle at his exaggerated words, letting go of his hand and ruffling his hair instead.

“I’m glad to have met you again,” you continue. “But… I’ve been thinking, you know? And I don’t think we can go on like this.”

“What…?”

“Just… I’m only gonna get busier, you know…?” The exact moment that he sits up, his comforting touch being torn away from you as he stares at you with disbelief on his face, you inevitably begin to feel like you fucked up. But you started this now, and there’s no way you could dig yourself back out of this mess, so you decide it’d be for the best to just see it through and be honest with him. “You know that I could never pay you back all that you’ve done for me… Hyuck.” You call out his name, but he barely even reacts with nothing but a blank expression in his eyes. You could’ve sworn you’ve never seen him this pale. “I’m gonna graduate, Hyuck. You’ll still be a student when I start working. Hell, I might have to move somewhere completely different if I don’t find a job in this city soon. And once I do find employment, I’m gonna have to work my ass off to prove my worth. I won’t have time to fool around like this anymore…”

“Fool… around…?” he repeats, speaking slowly, as his expression suddenly reflects a hundred complicated feelings. “Fool around… was all this is to you?”

“I mean… we’re friends too, obviously-”

“Y/N,” he cuts you off, and the way he says your name stabs you like a knife. “I have feelings too, you know. You can’t just…” A bitter laugh escapes him. “You’re going to tell me that it’s better if we didn’t see each other anymore, aren’t you?”

“No!” you immediately refute. “I mean-... look, we can stay friends, but I don’t know how much we’ll actually be able to see each other-”

“Friends?” he repeats in utter disbelief. “You don’t realize it, do you?”

“Realize what-”

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I love you.”

“What…?” That is all you manage to reply to his confession. You really did never notice it, and so this comes as a shock to you. You realize that maybe him saying he’d do anything for you wasn’t an exaggeration at all, but you didn’t think he’d keep this fuckbuddy thing up if he had feelings for you all along. As if he had read your mind, he says,

“I’m sorry… I-... I didn’t want to tell you like this…” he speaks, his head hanging low now. “Not when I know you have a thousand other things to worry about, but… I just couldn’t… you said all these hurtful things. I don’t think you know how much hearing all that just now hurts.”

“I-,” you begin, but you don’t know what to say. You stare at him in utter disbelief for a moment, and then all of a sudden, from one second to the other, you feel like you’re going to suffocate if you don’t get out of here as fast as possible. “I… I can’t do this right now.” You get up off the bed and zip up your jeans. Your head is in chaos and your emotions are all jumbled up, but the one thing you can clearly feel is the anger burning in your veins. You truly are upset that he dropped such a bomb on you just before exams start and you need a clear head more than anything. “I’m going home… sorry,” you mutter under your breath, and without another look back at the guy who can’t do anything but watch as you’re slipping out of his grasp once again, you walk out of the door.

“Good luck for your exams” You let out a sigh as you finally delete the notification of the message Donghyuck sent you four days ago as you’re on your way to uni for your last exam. It’s Friday noon and you can’t wait for all of this to be over, the beginning of winter break feeling like you’re finally about to reach the safe shore after you’ve been almost drowning for weeks. 

You didn’t talk to Donghyuck for the entirety of the week - of course, or you would’ve long answered his message that he sent you on Monday. But you couldn’t bring yourself to, you didn’t even dare open the chatroom. Instead, you had focused on the necessities to get you through this week: sleep, eat, revise everything you studied, be on time for your exams, rinse and repeat. And now that it’s already the last day of this nightmare, you can’t wait to simply crash into bed once you arrive home tonight. 

It’s true that you’ve been feeling the relief after every single exam you finished, like some of the weight was taken off your shoulder with each time you walk out of a lecture hall. And yet you still feel the tiredness in your bones, but there’s something else tugging at your limbs and trying to make you stop running from one task to the other. However, you don’t let it. Too big is the fear of what you might find if you do stop and have a look, so you force all thoughts out of your mind that have nothing to do with your exams. And today as well your mind is empty when you take your seat and you’re handed the paper you’re supposed to fill out during the next one and a half hours, trusting your memory and your ability to recall the correct answers you have studied to each question.

As you’re leaving the lecture hall, finally done with the last one of your exams, somebody calls out to you. You turn your head to find one of your friends catching up with you, greeting you with a lively expression on her face.

“We’re finally done,” she says. “Now we only need to wait for our final paper to be graded and then we’re free!”

“Yeah,” you respond, trying to sound cheerful but inevitably failing. You’re just tired at this point, and no matter how relieved you are that exams are over, you can’t bring yourself to be happy.

“What’s with you?” your friend asks, concern in her voice. “Do you have to redo one of your exams?”

“No, no, it’s nothing,” you assure her, but she doesn’t buy it. 

“There’s something up with you. Did studying take that much out of you?”

“I guess,” you reply as you walk down the hallway with her, but then you hesitate. “Actually… nevermind.”

“Hm? Y/N, what is it? You’re being really weird.” She steps in front of you, making you halt on the spot, but eventually she keeps walking. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t pressure you to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“...it’s about a friend,” you admit finally.

“A friend?” she repeats. “Did something happen to them?”

“No, just… we just haven’t seen each other much lately, and… yeah.” You lower your head and she steps closer.

“That must be a very good friend if you miss them so much,” she states, matter of factly, and that’s when you feel a stab right to your heart, putting you in physical pain.

“Right…” you mutter. Without you realizing, Donghyuck’s presence has painted your ordinary days in a color of hope, wrapping you in a feeling of safety whenever you’re with him and making you become way too comfortable around him. And now that it’s come this far, you don’t know how you’re supposed to scratch off all that paint anymore. The thought alone makes you feel sick to the stomach - you shouldn’t have been such an idiot. You knew where this would lead, and that you wouldn’t have the time to fool around with him anymore once you’ve graduated. A feeling of deep regret overcomes you. 

You shouldn’t have said yes when he suggested leaving your class reunion together.

When you get home that day, you finally let yourself feel the full consequences of the past weeks filled with stress and you crash into your bed immediately. You haven’t planned to go to sleep this early, but at some point you simply find yourself drifting off, and the next time you open your eyes it’s Saturday morning. 

Your body aches as you force yourself to get out of bed, and when you open the curtains and the sunlight blinds your eyes, you curse existence itself. You trod over to the bathroom, wash your face, and after finding yourself unable to look at your reflection in the mirror, you return to your little kitchen to get yourself a simple breakfast. Finishing it while scrolling through social media on your phone, you then get yourself back to your bed, plummeting down on it and grabbing one of the books stacked atop your bedside table that you never found the time to finish while uni has kept you occupied. You open it on the page you had left off weeks ago, and after fighting your way through roughly two and a half paragraphs, you give up and you put the book back to where it’s been resting untouched until now. Your mind just won’t let you focus on this now, so you pick your heavy body up off the comfortable sheets and decide to take a shower first of all.

Things continue like this for the next few days. Even though exams are finally over, you just can’t find it in you to rest properly. Neither going out to have fun nor staying at home and having some quality alone time sound appealing to you, and soon enough you figure out why. No matter what you do or where you are, there’s this constant pain in your chest dragging you down, because time and time again you find yourself impulsively wanting to tell Donghyuck about your day, or even just sending him a funny meme you found on instagram. But you can’t. In a way this reminds you of five years ago, when you started spending less and less time together in high school and then eventually broke up with each other. You recall finding yourself in situations like this back when you started college as well, wanting to tell him about something fun or exciting that happened but feeling unable to, because it’s already been months since you had last talked. However, there’s one significant difference between then and now. 

Then, you merely found it a shame that you couldn’t freely text him or talk to him anymore. But you had moved on, finding new friends to talk to about those same things. Now, it’s like someone had torn a chunk of yourself out of your chest, and you’re slowly bleeding out as your nervous system prevents you from doing anything at all, signaling you that there must be a more urgent matter to take care of first. And only once you come to understand that this matter has to do with nothing other than Donghyuck himself, that’s when something finally connects in your mind. Your days have been painted with his colors, but maybe you’re not supposed to get rid of all that paint. Maybe you’re simply supposed to embrace it, because after all those years he’s become someone who’s just right for you. And maybe he’s become someone you can even come to love.

No, he’s already someone you love, you just never realized it.

Without thinking, you open your chatroom with Donghyuck, his last message still unanswered, and you start typing.

“I need to see you.”

“Now.”

You stand on his doorstep, taking a deep breath. Donghyuck had texted you back eventually, offering to meet at his place, so that’s where you are now, nervous to ring the doorbell. It was you who suddenly decided to come see him, so why are you so hesitant?

Another deep breath, exhaled shakily, and you reach out to press the bell button. Maybe 10 seconds later, the door opens, and when Donghyuck mutters a greeting with a distant expression in his eyes, it’s like a slap to your face.

“Come in, I guess,” he says as he’s already turning around, and you do as told. Taking your shoes off, you follow him a few steps inside, and shooting you a cold look, he asks, “What do you need to talk about?”

You’ve never seen him like this. Even when you broke up at the end of high school there wasn’t such a dark expression on his face. At that moment you have no idea how to shake off the guilt anymore, and so all you can do is let the words burst out of you.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry for doing this to you.” He watches you with a look over his shoulder and you let your head hang, hoping he isn’t aware of the way tears are welling up in your eyes. “I can’t imagine how much I must’ve hurt you.” You add those words through gritted teeth, afraid of a sob suddenly making its way past your lips if you’re not careful.

“Then why are you the one crying?” he asks, staying surprisingly calm.

“B-because…” You gulp, and figuring that it’s too late anyway, you lift your chin to look at him and you use the sleeves of your shirt to wipe the tears from your eyes. “Because I’m an idiot. And I don’t want to see the person I love suffer.”

“Y/N…” he breathes your name before turning around fully to face you. He steps closer, but still keeps a good distance between you two. “You rejected me only a few days ago…”

“I know.” Your words are merely a whisper now. “Because I was scared… the future seems so overwhelming that I kept thinking I don’t have space for something like this. But… that doesn’t mean… that I didn’t still fall in love with you.” Silence follows, the only sound disrupting it being the soft sigh Donghyuck lets out before he finally closes the distance between you.

“Can I… hold you?” You nod at his question and you let him come closer, until you find yourself safely wrapped into his embrace, his warm breath tickling your neck as he buries his face there. 

“I’m so sorry for how I acted… you must really hate me now…” you mutter, and you’re almost startled when your friend lets out a laugh as he’s holding you.

“Yes, because I always go around hugging my enemies like this,” he says with a tired yet cheeky grin on his lips, and seeing that expression on his face suddenly washes all your worries away.

“Right…”

“It’s okay, Y/N… I know you had a rough time. I shouldn’t have confessed to you so suddenly either,” he apologizes, but you immediately shake your head, vigorously.

“No, don’t say sorry! I… I kind of get it… that it had to get out,” you say. “Especially after I said all those hurtful things to you.” He brings one hand up to your cheek, brushing his knuckles against the skin there and as his eyes scan your facial features you can unmistakably see how much he adores you. It makes your heart soar, and you part your lips as your gaze falls to his mouth.

“Y/N,” he calls out to you. “Does that mean… I can ask you to be my girlfriend now?”

“Sure…” you mumble, the urge to feel his lips on yours clouding your mind. “And when I’m your girlfriend… can you kiss me then?”

“Of course,” he chuckles, and he takes a tiny step away from you so he could take your hands into his, intertwining your fingers. “Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?” You can’t suppress the smile that creeps onto your face as you listen to his question, and you nod.

“Yes, please,” you answer. “Let me be your girlfriend.” And then he kisses you, slowly and carefully, and this time you aren’t confused on what those feelings he’s pouring into this kiss are. This time you know that it’s all the love he has for you, and you let it wrap you into a veil of warmth and comfort, feeling safe with him.

“I love you,” you mutter in between kisses, and eventually your hands find their way up into his hair. You kiss him back as you comb through it, and when you hear him whisper those same words back at you in between kisses, you once again can’t control the smile on your lips. You part to look at each other, finding an unmistakable desire for more behind his gaze, and so you begin moving as you connect your lips to his again.

"I'm sorry..." you mutter in between kisses, as you're steering him towards the bedroom, and he lets out a sigh against your lips in response. "I want to make it up to you."

"You don't have to," Donghyuck mutters with his hands on your waist, and you reach the bed, positioning yourselves so you could have him sit with one swift push against his chest. Crawling on top of him as he merely looks up at you, eyes half-lidded and lips slightly parted while he awaits your next kiss, he's already completely drunk on you.

"Then see it as me taking care of you?" you whisper, reconnecting your lips to his. Your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and him having his hands securely placed on your sides for stability, you merely keep kissing like that. Unhurriedly, because now you both know there's nothing rushing you anymore, nothing that would tear you apart.

"I love you." He mutters those words as you part, and when you open your eyes you can see him already nervously peeking up at you. You can't help but smile endearingly, cupping his cheek with one hand before you lean in for another sweet kiss to his reddened lips.

"I love you too, Hyuck," you say just when you pull back, and you let your fingertips wander down his upper body. Watching his face closely for his reactions, you pull his shirt off him, tossing it to the floor, and then you add, "Lie down for me, baby. I'll make you feel good." It comes as a surprise even to you to see him obey so quickly, and you let your palm glide down the bare skin on his chest and abdomen as he lies back. And then, when you reach for his wrists to pin them against the bed right next to his head, you can see a slight but still apparent blush creeping onto his cheeks, and he lets out a sound that's somewhere between a groan and a quiet whine.

"Fuck, you make me go crazy," you mutter as you press another kiss to his puffy lips, and when you sink your teeth into his bottom lip he moans into your mouth, the act alone sending heatwaves through your body. You instinctively roll your hips on top of his, earning yourself another small mewl from him, and then you trail kisses from the corner of his mouth to his throat. He leans his head back to give you better access, brows furrowed as he sighs in contentment. Forming his hands into fists, he digs his nails into his palms and whines some more as you continue grinding down on him, and the way you feel him grow underneath you turns you on as well. And then eventually you let go of his wrists to work your way down, peppering kisses all over his chest as he immediately throws his arms around your body, holding onto you tightly. 

"Hyuck..." you call out his name as you sit up briefly, and then you continue trailing nips and kisses down his body. "Let me hear you." He curses as your hand ghosts above his core, watching you with an expectant gaze in his eyes. You pull down the sweatpants he's wearing, and then his underwear, both just enough so his hard length is exposed. You wrap your fingers around him, and you kneel above him now, one of his thighs positioned between your legs, so you could get a good look at his face as you start to slowly jerk him off. 

"Look at me," you demand, and he does, the blush returning to his cheeks.

"Faster..." he mutters, barely audible, and you teasingly ask him to repeat himself. "Faster, please..." he begs through gritted teeth, and when you tighten your grip on his shaft just a little bit, he responds with a moan. "Can't take it..."

"Are you gonna let me hear more of those pretty moans?" you question, lips quivering in anticipation.

"Y-yes..." You don't know if your mind is tricking you or if his blush is growing just a bit darker as he answers, but either way you begin to move your hand faster, having him whining underneath you as he throws his head back. You watch with your lips slightly parted, and it's not like you've never seen him like this before, but there's just something about the way he gives himself up to pleasure when you have him in this kind of position that always gets you going. You move your hips in tune with the speed at which you get him off, grinding your clothed core down on his thigh, and he pushes his leg up just a bit to give you more friction.

"Shit..." you hiss, pleasure clouding your mind, and Donghyuck reaches down to wrap his fingers around your hand, guiding you into a faster pace. You collect the precum leaking his tip and use it as lube to glide down his length more smoothly, and as you can see on his face that he's about to lose himself to the sensation, you mutter a warning, "Don't cum yet."

"But-" he whines, and you take your hand away just before he can reach his high. "Y/N..." he desperately whines your name and you lean in to press a soothing kiss somewhere onto his chest, and then another one against his cheek.

"I wanna have you cumming inside me," you whisper, and when you sit back up you quickly rid yourself of all your clothes, in the end helping him out of his pants as well. You crawl on top of him, your hands placed on his shoulders for support, and you let out a curse as you roll your hips against him, his tip rubbing against your folds. And once again he whines, pressing his eyes tightly shut and digging his nails into your hips. 

"Just fuck me already..." he breathes, but you have other plans.

"Be good and I will, baby," you coo as you repeat your motion without letting him slip inside you. He begins to squirm underneath you, visibly fighting to suppress his orgasm, and you swear you could cum from the sight alone. "Fuck... you're so fucking hot like that, Hyuck..." you mutter through gritted teeth, his repeated whines sounding like music to your ears.

"C-can't... hold back..." And once again you stop the stimulation just as he's about to cum, and with a frustrated groan he throws his head back into the mattress, dragging his nails down your skin. You reach for his hands, and as you intertwine your fingers you pin them above his head, and you can't but coo over the desperate look he gives you, and the way his cheeks are reddening again.

"You gonna cum right when I take you in, aren't you?" you ask, smirking at him after pressing a kiss to his forehead. "So desperate for my pussy..." And he can't do anything but whine at your words, because you both know you're right, and him denying it would just make him look stupid. "Then cum for me, baby," you mutter against his lips as you seal them with yours, running your tongue along his mouth to deepen the kiss. You sink down on him, taking in his size with ease, and the second you start rolling your hips he releases inside you as he moans into your mouth. Heat rushes through your veins when you part and you sit up, letting go of his wrists and combing the fingers of one hand through his disheveled hair instead. 

"Didn't think you really would cum the instant you're inside me," you mock him, earning yourself another whine from him. "And I bet you're also gonna be hard again in no time if I keep this up," you mumble, rolling your hips on top of him slowly. "Such a sucker for when I'm in control, huh?"

"Yeah..." he breathes out, and you unexpectedly feel your heart swell at his answer. Usually he'd be fighting back by now, trying to battle you for dominance or at least being bratty, but today you really just have him at your mercy unconditionally.

"Is it because I finally said that I love you?" you conclude, as if he had heard your thought process.

"Huh?" You run your fingers through his hair again, and then you lean in for another deep kiss.

"Do you like it that much when I play with you like this, or are you being good because you're scared I'll leave if you're not perfect for me?" Donghyuck stares at you for a while as you sit back up, the blush on his cheeks fading, and when he finally reaches out to you to press your body against his for a tight embrace, he answers,

"No, I trust you. And I kinda like it when you sometimes use me." A storm of emotions washing over you, you bring some distance between you and him slowly, and after mustering his genuine expression for a while, you reach for his hands once again.

"Don't touch me," you order as you put them back into their place above his head. "And don't cum until I tell you to. If you wanna be my little toy you gotta be good, alright?"

"Alright." He gulps, taking you in as you're sitting on top of him, starting to ride him with one hand sliding down your body, fingertips reaching your core to give yourself some extra stimulation. Eyes dripping with honey, he keeps his hands in place, and the more you can feel him growing inside you, the more you can also see him struggling to keep his composure.

"Fuck, you're so sexy," he mutters eventually, and you hum a praise to signal him to keep going. "Feels so good... wanna be good for you..."

"That's right..." you mutter, your eyelids fluttering shut as you bounce on top of him, rubbing circles onto your clit. You position yourself so that everytime you sink down on him his tip would graze that perfect spot inside you, and along with listening to his words and the way his voice starts shaking from the pleasure has you seeing stars soon enough.

"U-use me, please... wanna feel you cum on my cock..." he sputters, and you moan at his pleas.

"Doing so well for me, baby... shit, nobody could ever make me feel as good as you..." He whines desperately as you keep your pace slow, in hopes of bringing him as close as possible to the edge as you're racing towards your own high. "Hyuck..." you mutter his name, your voice trembling. "Cum with me." Another moan falling from his lips and you feel yourself shaken by your orgasm, clenching around him as he spills inside you a second time. 

"Shit..." With a curse you collapse on top of him, finding him wrapping his arms around you in a comforting motion, and you add, "You were amazing." He nuzzles his face into the side of your head, lips brushing against your temple, and once you've caught your breath a bit you give him a proper kiss. "I'm sorry... for trying to push you away like th-" Donghyuck puts his index finger across your lips, shutting you up in the process, and with a soft smile he shakes his head.

"Stop apologizing," he says. "It's okay now. Let's focus on the future, and how we can build it together." His hand cupping your face and his thumb brushing against your cheek make your heart skip a beat, and you simply nod.

"You're right," you respond, and you lie back down on top of him, nestling into his chest. "If we just have each other, we can make it through anything."

[strawberriesoup]

lollipop٠࣪⭑

── .✦ You make a deal with Jisung.

word count: 2.1k

genre: fluff, skater!jisung x female reader, friends to lovers, neighbor au

warnings: cursing, reader is kind of a brat, kissing, borderline making out, much fluff

taglist: @jisunggy

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Maybe this deal wasn’t such a good idea.

Your most recent obsession, Stardew Valley, had you begging Jisung to play just one game with you. planning to bug him into submission, you would bring up the game every chance you got. After about a week, he finally relented and agreed to play with you. On one condition. You had to let him teach you a trick on that goddamn skateboard of yours.

You from this morning had agreed. You from this morning was an idiot.

Now, you’re sweating your ass off on a dingy green park bench in the middle of July, chugging what little water you have left out of your regrettably small bottle. It had been what, three hours now? And you just couldn’t get the damned trick down. If you have to hear the words, “One more time! You were so close!” again, you might commit a war crime. The plastic of the bottle crinkles as you crush it and toss it towards the nearest trash can. You miss.

In an attempt to get Jisung’s attention, you sprawl your limbs obnoxiously over the length of the bench.

“You’re trying to kill me.” You groan, theatrically draping an arm over your face, “Your sick games won’t work forever.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a whiner you would get the hang of it faster.” Jisung suggests helpfully as he successfully throws your bottle in the trash and takes a seat next to you, shoving your leg out of the way to make room. He’s sweaty as well, and proceeds to take over any space that is left on bench.

You are most definitely not thinking about how you would love to devour him whole right now. No, that would be silly.

Five years ago, Jisung moved into the neighborhood. Both of you being in freshman year of high school, it started with you two carpooling to school. Which turned into doing homework on the weekends. Which resulted in the two of you being permanently attached at the hip.

And the whole time, you’ve had the biggest, juiciest crush on him.

That little smirk when you’re teasing him? Smitten. When he raises his arms and you can see a sliver of that waist beneath the folds of his hoodie? Good lord. And don’t even get you started on his habit of running his hand through his hair.

But of course, you’re too much of a chicken to actually tell him about it. Besides, he probably doesn’t even like you like that, and you’re not about to make a fool out of yourself to find out.

“Well excuse me for not particularly enjoying having heatstroke. I’m done.”

Arms crossed, you challenge him to say something. Unfortunately, he’s gotten pretty good at dealing with your shit over the years.

In favor of a response, a pointed look is sent by Jisung, one eyebrow raised along with a just barely suppressed smile coloring his features. A bead of sweat rolls down the left side of his flushed face, suggesting that he’s probably just as warm and uncomfortable as you and he’s not complaining. Whatever. You’re still going to bitch about it.

“But you were almost there, I swear! Just one more time, pleasee?” Jisung pleads, widening his eyes and sticking out his lower lip. Not this tactic again. You hate it when he does that. He knows you can’t say no. It’s an unfair advantage.

Skateboarding with Jisung had been a nearly daily exhibition for around a year and a half now. Well, you say “skateboarding” but it really just consists of you riding to and from the convenience store at the end of the block every couple of days. Which you manage to do without falling over, thank you very much. Jisung was just a natural at it, always had been. You were, quite frankly, not.

You had never attempted a trick, content with simply watching Jisung in his element. There’s something theraputic about watching a master of their craft in action. Also you were scared of falling and breaking an arm again.

Fine. Fine. You’ll try one more time.

“Okay, one more time. But this is the last try, or I swear to God I’m going to feed your hamster to Bagel.”

Jisung grips the front of his shirt in mock offense at the threat, his gasps of, “You monster!” trailing you as you stomp off with your skateboard onto the open pavement.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Now remember, left foot on the back edge…”

A small breeze had started to pick up, alleviating some of your discomfort. The surrounding air was less stifling now, the wind bringing the scent of freshly cut grass to your senses.

What was this trick called again? A strawberry milkshake? It was one of the “easier” tricks, according to Jisung. If by “easy” he meant that it’s the mental equivalent to stepping on a lego, he was right on. This shit is hard.

The firm hold that Jisung’s hand currently has on your waist makes it even harder. He’s really not helping you focus on the task at hand.

With a deep breath, both in preparation for the trick and to quiet down the rushing of blood in your ears, you repeat the same motion you had been working on for the better portion of the afternoon.

Front foot off. Wrap around. Land.

By Jisung’s reaction, you would think you had won the lottery. He’s pumping both fists in the air and shouting, completely beside himself. You landed it! You really did!

You then proceed to wipe out on the pavement.

Yeah, that checks out.

As you’re brushing the fall from your pants, you are nearly bowled over by Jisung, who sweeps you up and spins you around in a tight hug. The rush of the breeze around you has you laughing breathlessly, holding on to him for dear life.

“Yes! Holy shit, see? I knew you could do it! That was awesome!” He sets you down, looking at you with beams of pride spilling from his crinkled eyes and heart-shaped smile.

“I did it! I finally did it!” You squeal, the adrenaline and genuine excitement of the moment taking control of your body as you bounce up and down, gripping his fingers as you do so.

The grin Jisung gives you is bright enough to light up even the darkest corners of the world, you’re sure of it. You want to keep him in your hands forever and never let go.

But, you do. After a minute of joint celebration, you inform him that you’re going to sit down for a minute to catch your breath.

Finding a nearby tree, you settle beneath its branches, eyes adjusting to the newfound shade. The grass is cool beneath your palms, calming your sun-kissed skin.

As you watch Jisung continue to skate you’re reminded of just how good at this he is. He navigates his skateboard like it’s as simple as walking, every one of his tricks are landed with precision and ease. His habit of biting his lower lip in concentration anytime he performs an air is doing nothing for your sanity though.

Your crippling sweet tooth prods at you, so you decide to reward yourself. Rustling through your bag, you pull out a lollipop, popping it into your mouth. Its tart sweetness bathes your tongue, and you cross your legs, humming contentedly as you resume your attention on Jisung.

After about ten more minutes, he’s jogging over to you with his skateboard in hand. Your heart noticeably picks up its pace. Stop that. Calm down.

Taking a seat next to you, Jisung runs his hand through his sweat-damp hair, one arm supporting his weight and the other coming to rest on his knee. He looks ethereal, skin glowing with the gentle brush of light falling from the tree above.

Then, without so much as a “hello”, the lollipop is yanked from your hand and held out of your grasp.

“Jisung, are you serious? Give it back!” You shout in exasperation at the loss of your sugar source. Is he seven years old? Who does that?

“Nuh-uh, what’s the magic word?” He stretches his arm away as you basically tackle him, reaching vainly for the candy.

“I’m not the one who should be saying please here!”

You have an idea. Grabbing the front of his shirt, you pull him towards you. This is definitely the dumbest thing you’ve done all week. But it’s too late now. You can see his eyes fly wide, trying to process the situation as you plant a kiss right on his lips. He’s soft. And warm.

When you pull away, you take the opportunity to snatch the candy back from Jisung’s now limp hand. Popping the sucker back into your mouth, you grin at him smugly. It worked.

Jisung sits there, unmoving. Lips slightly parted, he stares at you, his gaze shifting from your eyes, fluttering down to your lips, and back again. Shit, was that a bad idea? That was a bad idea. You probably should have asked first. What the fuck were you thinking?

Before you could blurt out any sort of apology, he’s grabbing your hand and the candy is pulled from your lips with a pop. It falls onto the cool grass below.

A shaking hand slots underneath your chin with barely suppressed eagerness and he pulls you to him, capturing your lips in a proper kiss. The heat from his body and the sweep of his breath over you are all-consuming. blocking out the world, save for him.

This. Him. Everything about it just feels… easy. Natural. The way he cradles your jaw firmly, but with a careful gentleness that is entirely and solely Jisung. The way his free hand drapes down your side, coming to rest on top of your hip. The way his lips move in perfect harmony with yours.

The tree’s rough bark presses against your back as he leads you backwards, the sweetness of the lollipop being traded between your mouths. A flame starts to burn in your chest, spreading like wildfire until your whole body is alight with the flicker of butterfly wings.

Drawing away to look at you, Jisung runs his tongue over his glistening lips.

He’s holding himself back. He wants nothing more than to consume you, your essence, everything. He wants to show you how much he cares. He also wants to suck every last drop of sweetness from your lips. But he won’t. Not yet. Not until he knows you want it as much as he does. But, God, you drive him crazy. His eyebrows pinch and he shakes his head, trying to clear it.

You feel the loss of his ministrations on you like a load of bricks. Wrapping a hand around the back of his head, you pull him onto you once more, wanting -no- needing more of him. He needs more of you too, as is evident by the way his hands tighten and by his quiet gasp of breath when you oh-so gently nip his lower lip, teasing him.

This time, you’re the one to pull away, giggling awkwardly as he squeezes his eyes shut, clearly attempting to pull himself together.

Peeking at you, he finally makes eyes contact, feeling the need to say something, anything.

“Wow…” Is all he manages out, and your giggles morph into full on laughter. You make a kissy face at him which earns you a shove to your shoulder, and Jisungs ears turning a bright red.

“Hey! Don’t make fun of me!” he complains, bringing out that pout of his again.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you say, patting his shoulder, “you’re just such a dork.”

With your side of the deal completed, it’s his turn to pay up. With the steadily setting sun lighting your way, Jisung accompanies you to your house after the silent agreement to play games now, sort out weird feelings later.

epilogue ─☆

As your game loads up, Jisung decides to sit on the couch as far away from you as possible, curling up and hunching over his respective screen. Occasionally, he glances up at you, looking like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Okay. What is he hiding.

You (with grace) crawl across the couch to him, taking a page from his book and snatching the switch from his hands. He yells and kicks you in protest, but not before you had seen his screen.

J.one J.one’s Farm

Day 9 of Winter, Year 3 124,196g

Hours Spent: 106

One hundred and six hours. Jisung had told you that he’d never heard of the game before, let alone played it, and had very begrudgingly agreed to humor you. This whole time he’d been playing it? Why didn’t he- oh.

Jisung looks up at you with a sheepish grin, having been caught in his little scheme.

“I just wanted you to skate with me- ow!” he exclaims, bringing up his hands in defense as you bonk him with the switch.

“Next time maybe just ask?”

“How would I have gotten my kiss then?”

[eyelinerandmcr]

𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭?

Pairing: Virgin!Basement Era!Gerard Way x AFAB!Reader Summary: You and Gerard have been best friends for four years. After years of ignoring your crush on him due to your feelings of inadequacy, it begins to seem like maybe he likes you as well...but like always, your personal issues seem to get in the way. Warnings: Gerard is a complete and total virgin but its implied reader is not, oral sex (M receiving), P in V sex, high school AU but they're both 18, lots of angst, kinda slow burn, self-hatred, substance abuse and reader is depressed if you squint, drug use (not by Gee or reader), making out Word Count: 6.5k

If you had been different, you would have kissed Gerard by now.

This thought flashed constantly through your mind every time you were around him. And there were times where you thought you might anyway. Times where you were with him in his basement bedroom as he ranted about the latest cartoon he was watching, curled up on the opposite side of the couch as he was. When it would have been so easy to lean over and place your lips on his, rake your hands through his hair, maybe push yourself into his lap. Maybe do more.

But you never did. Because the thing was, Gerard was the sweetest person you knew. Gerard, who you had met the second day of freshman year when you’d dropped your lunch on the floor in the cafeteria, who had helped you clean up the mess while other students stepped around you or snickered. Gerard, who despite his shy nature had quickly become one of your best friends. Gerard, who would always lend you his sweater if you were cold, knowing even if you didn’t say anything. Who you would rant and cry to about failed romance after failed romance, relationships you knew didn’t work out mainly because of your poor decisions, who would pick you up late at night when you got drunk at some random house party and needed a ride home. Gerard, who was loving and gentle. And you were a mess.

You already felt bad enough about how much he cared for you, knowing you could never truly reciprocate everything he did for you. You knew there was something deeply wrong with you that never allowed you to truly care for someone else in a healthy way. Dragging him into your messy life further than he already was, surely would not result in anything good happening. You loved so hard and overbearingly, and you were scared to drown Gerard—Who you knew had never had a girlfriend, let alone had his first kiss. So how would he be able to handle you? You didn’t wonder about this in an egotistical way. You didn’t believe you were a catch, anything particularly special, in fact you felt quite the opposite. You simply couldn’t imagine a boy as pure and innocent and kind as him not getting overwhelmed by you.

If you had been different, you would have kissed Gerard by now. But you would settle for stolen stares and brief, fleeting touches that meant nothing. There was no harm in that, right?

On Saturday afternoons, you would go over to Gerard’s house, spending the afternoon doing homework and watching horror movies. You would never admit it, but it was what you looked forward to the most every week. The thought of having to go home at the end of the day felt nearly unbearable every time. One day in February, he was walking you home after several pleasant hours of slasher movies and pizza, the winter air crisp, sharp against your lungs. You buried yourself into your coat, eyes flitting over to him.

The pale sunlight cast against his skin made him look undeniably beautiful. In that moment, you wanted to throw caution into the wind and kiss him, to not care about any consequences that may come with the action. These thoughts caused your eyes to flicker down to his lips, an action that unbeknownst to you, he caught, his cheeks dusting a light pink. Your gaze snapped away from his face and onto the ground in front of you when you realized Gerard had stopped talking about his theory about the next Scream movie. You were saved from the awkwardness by arriving at your front door.

You turned to him. “Thanks for walking me,” you said quietly, even though he always did. You stepped forward and gave him a hug, his arms carefully wrapping around your back. He was so gentle. He was always so gentle, and it made your heart squeeze painfully. You pulled away after a moment and looked up at him, his hands immediately leaving your body as you did. He looked slightly flustered. You tried to act as if that alone didn’t make you want to pull him in and—

“I’ll see you at school on Monday,” he mumbled, ruffling your hair awkwardly before turning around and walking away without a glance back at you. You watched him go for a moment before entering your house, shutting out the cold but also the chance to stare at him a little longer. Not that that would do you any good.

It was so frustrating. You were trying, trying so hard to ignore your feelings, but the way Gerard was acting was making it nearly impossible to do so. Whenever you felt like you had successfully pushed down your crush, he did something to remind you of it again. The two of you had been close for years, but the way he looked at you sometimes, especially recently, felt different.

You would catch him staring every so often, while you were doing your homework at his kitchen table or watching a movie. It made you wonder if he felt about you the way you felt about him. Which sent you down another spiral. With all your issues, did he genuinely believe you were worth it? You hoped that he did while simultaneously telling yourself it didn't matter in the first place, that there was no chance he even thought of you that way.

The following Monday at school, you saw him only briefly in the halls, but the slightly tense moment the two of you had shared on Saturday kept you from speaking to him, opting instead to look away quickly as you tried to hide the blush that would creep onto your skin. However, you and Gerard had been paired together for a small project in Chemistry.

Luckily, he seemed unfazed by the interaction that weekend. Unfortunately for your workflow, he received the latest issue of Fangoria the previous night, so his rambling about it distracted you from actually working on the assignment. When the bell rang, he was still speaking about the magazine.

“Shit. We didn’t finish the worksheet, did we,” he said with an embarrassed huff, pushing some hair behind his ear. You smirked at him, amused.

“No, we did not. But you did manage to spoil the entirety of the new Fangoria for me,” you responded teasingly, bumping his shoulder gently with yours.

He blushed slightly. “Oh. Sorry.” He said sheepishly. “We can go to my house after school and finish it. The worksheet. If you’re free,” sounding a bit more nervous than he usually did when he asked you to come over.

You agreed, and parted ways for the rest of the day. After school, he was waiting for you by the main entrance, his hair messy as it always was, his eyes squinted and darting around, searching for you. You waved and ran up to him, absentmindedly wrapping your hand around his upper arm as you began to walk next to him.You could have sworn the tips of his ears flushed at the contact, but ignored it. It could’ve just been the cold.

His hand tentatively reached around your lower back, resting respectfully on the side of your hip. Your heart began to beat a little faster than normal. He usually wasn’t very touchy, even though you were—not like you minded.

After the two of you had finished the worksheet, you spent the afternoon together drawing, sitting on opposite sides of his bed together, the soft sound of the radio playing in the background. You felt Gerard’s gaze constantly flickering over to you, making it hard to focus on your sketch of the view outside his window, something you’d drawn a numerous amount of times. After a while, you became restless, distracted by his eyes on you, and set your sketchbook aside. “What’re you drawing?” You asked him suddenly, looking to him.

He immediately glanced away from you, his face turning a slight pink, trying to subtly tilt his sketchbook away from you. “Nothing,” he said unconvincingly, which piqued your interest even more. You wondered what he possibly could be sketching that he didn’t want you to see.

“Come on, please?” When he didn’t budge, you leaned over to see what he had been working on. Your eyes widened as you saw what it was.

You. He was drawing you. Curled up against his bed frame, your eyes narrowed in concentration. He had captured your essence perfectly, as if he’d studied you for so long that he was able to meticulously catch your energy and place it onto a piece of paper. The realization seemed to enter your bloodstream and curl its way into your heart, flooding you with a dreaded hope that you already knew wasn’t going to do any good. You didn’t speak, just looked up at him. Neither of you dared to break the silence, the eye contact you were holding intense enough to drown out any thoughts.

His widened eyes flickered down to your lips. Once. Twice. You had been leaning forward to see the drawing, your weight on your arms in front of you, and in the back of your mind you registered that your palms were pressed into the mattress on either side of his body. The two of you were so close you could feel his breath on your skin. Noses almost brushing, lips almost meeting, causing a tingling sensation of anticipation across your skin. Almost. Out of nowhere, you got a startling snap of reality. Almost there, but not quite enough. You were not enough. Not enough to lean forward just a couple more inches.

As his eyelids began to flutter shut, you suddenly felt just as embarrassed as he’d looked when you’d asked to see his drawing, warmth spreading to your cheeks. You retreated at the last moment, clearing your throat. “Um. It’s good. It looks good. The drawing,” you stumbled over your words.

Gerard looked confused as you spoke, and you wished you hadn’t seen the flicker of disappointment across his features. “The drawing,” he repeated, blinking slowly. “Thanks.”

“I should go,” you said after a heavy silence. He opened his mouth to speak, but you were already gathering your things and heading for the stairs to leave the basement. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” were your final words as you retreated from the room. You didn’t turn back, no matter how much you wanted to. As you trudged home, countless thoughts were swirling through your brain. The further you walked from his house, the further you separated yourself from the possibilities the afternoon could have held. You could have kissed Gerard. The boy who you’d been yearning for since the beginning of high school, for four years. Who was kinder than any guy you’d ever been with, but the only one you were scared of kissing.

You could easily imagine his lips against yours, how gentle they’d be, but also the thoughts that were bound to flood your mind if that were to happen. You knew you’d feel like you were taking something away from him, you knew you’d feel as if his untouched lips deserved someone better than you to share a first kiss with. That night, you tossed and turned in bed, not able to get the sketch he’d made of you out of your head. The flawless portrayal of your facial expression and body language made you wonder if maybe this wasn’t the first time he’d drawn you. Your stomach twisted painfully at the thought.

Gerard was too good for you. This was something you’d believed for a long time. But for some reason, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that you should have leaned in. To his face, to your desires, to the opportunity that had quite literally been right in front of you.

Throughout the next few days at school, you avoided him as much as possible. Which deemed to not be so difficult, seeing as he seemed to be doing the same to you. That bothered you more than it should have. You wanted him to speak to you, ask you why you weren’t talking to him, beg you to. But the thought of going up to him made your stomach drop. It was a clear paradox, just like everything revolving around how you felt about him. He made your head spin, and it was impossible to shut him out of it.

After several days of your mind being clouded by him, you turned to the most idiotic solution for your emotional turbulence, but not an uncommon one for you—going to a shitty house party, one that nearly all your friends were headed to. However, doing your makeup and choosing your outfit while blasting music, lying to your parents and saying you were going to sleep over at a friend's house, hopping on your bike and heading over to the party, didn’t give you the same adrenaline rush it usually did. The intention of getting drunk and dancing with your sweaty classmates and most likely hooking up with one of them didn’t entice you for once, nor divert your thoughts of Gerard, leaving you distracted and off kilter.

You mindlessly left your bike on its side in the front yard, wandering into the party. You allowed yourself to be drawn in and out of conversations for an hour and a half or so, trying to slow yourself down from immediately rushing to the drink table. Just as you were about to pour yourself a cup of a crappy vodka bound to get you tipsy quick, a strange guy you recognized from your gym class approached you and somehow got his grimy fingers on the alcohol bottle.

“Here, let me get that for you,” he said with a dumb smirk, making the drink for you, of course managing to spill some in the process, you noticed with irritation. You had to resist the urge to roll your eyes, instead giving him a tight lipped smile as he handed you the red solo cup which you knew you were going to throw away the moment you were out of his line of vision.

Unfortunately for you, he began to follow you around as you weaved through the crowd of people, searching for a familiar face that would help you escape the guy who was still speaking, seemingly not noticing or not caring about your obvious disinterest in him. Eventually, you told him you needed to go to the bathroom, and you were finally able to slip from his sight. You managed to leave through the front door, annoyed that your night had been spoiled, ready to risk stealing a bottle of your parents liquor to sooth your craving for intoxication instead of spending another minute in that house.

You walked toward where you were sure you’d left your bike, only to see it wasn’t there. Frantically, you searched for it, to your dismay finding it rammed against the side of the garage with a group of incredibly drunk kids around it, the one lying on the ground next to the bike obviously the culprit of crashing it. It truly was not fun to be sober around non-sober people, you thought at that moment, bitterly wishing you’d been able to get drunk before that boy had started to throw himself at you. You ran up to the group, cursing and upset, though they were too inebriated to acknowledge you or care. You pushed past them and kneeled down to examine your bike that was clearly broken. It was fixable, but at the moment unrideable, causing you to mutter another string of curses.

To the best of your ability, you dragged the bicycle to the sidewalk in front of the house, sitting down on the concrete next to it with a huff. You supposed you could ask someone at the party to give you a ride home, but most of the kids would be too intoxicated to drive. Then, there was the problem of explaining to your parents why the sleepover you had been at had ended prematurely. You had been relying on spending the night with a hook-up or one of your friends.

But you would have to seek someone out. Going back inside to ask to spend the night with someone meant having to deal with that creepy guy again, standing by on the lawn for someone you recognized to leave was not an option due to how cold out it was, and besides, your appetite for partying—and waiting—had dwindled to be nearly non-existent. You chewed your bottom lip as you faced the only real solution you could think of—calling Gerard. He’d picked you up at parties countless times, but this wasn’t the same, right?

You weren’t drunk, for one. It was different. Everything had felt different the past few days. In fact, that was the problem. It would’ve felt easier to call if you hadn’t nearly shared a kiss the last time you’d seen each other, if you hadn’t pulled away from him. As you rang his number, you wondered if he’d even pick up.

He did. He always did. His voice was clearly raspy with sleep as he answered the phone. “Hello?”

You sucked in a breath before speaking. “Hey. It’s me. I was at a party and this gross guy wouldn’t leave me alone, then some fucknut broke my bike and I can't fix it and I don't have another way to get home. I just—”

“It’s okay. I’ll come get you,” he said in his soft voice. “Where are you?”

You were surprised but also deeply comforted by his response to your predicament, behaving as he always was when you were in a situation like this. A part of you had expected him to act differently than he usually did, given the current state your friendship had been in, but you realized in that moment how much you’d overlooked just how much Gerard cared for you, causing an cascading wave of emotions to crash over you, so intense that you had to take a moment to respond to his question.

“The Johnson’s. I’ll check the house number.” He stayed on the phone until he knew exactly where to find you. “Thank you,” you said quietly, your tone almost guilty. You heard the sound of his engine revving up, knowing he’d be there soon.

“Of course,” he responded in a gentle tone that made you want to cry. A part of you wished he wasn’t so caring. If he was less forgiving, less tender, the thought of him waking up late at night to come get you wouldn’t’ve made you feel so bad. You hung up the phone, and waited, huddled on the corner for the next fifteen minutes, shivering slightly—your thin sweater not doing much to keep the cold from eating away at you.

Relief washed over you when Gerard’s familiar car turned around the corner. You stood up, a weak smile on your face. He parked and got out, walking over to you, his expression unreadable. God, he was so beautiful. Even though he’d already taken the action of coming to get you, you were a bit nervous about how he’d treat you after several days of not speaking to one another. “Hi.” you said awkwardly, the one word spoken almost as a question, your arms wrapped around your body in an attempt to maintain some warmth. He gave you a small smile in greeting which further relieved you of your worries of where your friendship stood. However, they didn’t disappear fully.

Your mind flashed back to his hurt expression after you’d pulled away from him the other day. He noticed your physical state and took off his jacket, placing it over your shoulders without a word, before bending over to pick up your broken bike. You buried your face in the coat, inhaling the familiar smell of magazine paper and coffee, overwhelmed with gratitude at his kindness, the way he acted even after days of you ignoring him. “I can help—” you began as he carried your bike to his trunk. But he cut you off with a shrug, placing it carefully in the car.

“Come on, let's get you home,” he spoke softly.

You slid into the passenger seat, as he did the same on the driver’s side. You bit down on the inside of your cheek before saying, “Gee, I told my parents I was staying over at a friend’s house tonight.” A silence, similar to the one after your near kiss a few days ago, settled over the two of you for a moment.

“You…can stay at mine,” he said, in a voice that seemed cautious, anticipatory, even though you’d had sleepovers before. You smiled a little, despite yourself, as you thanked him. The ride was quiet, the only sound a soft mixtape of The Smiths and David Bowie songs on low volume that you’d heard many times before. It was strange, to be surrounded by so many familiar things in an atmosphere that felt so utterly different than it had for several years, that had been changed in only a matter of days.

You glanced at him as he drove, wondering if was contemplating the same thing, as he had a thoughtful gleam in his eyes, though they stayed on the road. You wanted to ask. You wanted him to turn around and drive you back to the party, so you could drown your feelings in alcohol and not have to deal with them till the next morning. You wanted to scream at him for acting like nothing was different. You wanted to make him pull over and press your lips to his. But you stayed quiet, opting just to admire his face rather than act on any impulsive emotions, which you registered was very unlike you.

You shook off your musings as you pulled into Gerard’s driveway. Your brain was still slightly muddled, so you barely noticed when he got out of the car and was quickly over at your side, opening your door for you. Your heart squeezed in your chest. He never stopped being kind to you, regardless of how you treated him. You followed him into the house, the silence between you ensuing. It would be comforting if there wasn’t so much you wanted to say. You walked down the stairs to his bedroom, the familiarity relaxing you, making you feel better than you had in days.

You plopped down on his bed, where the two of you had almost kissed. It irritated you how that was all you could think about. You tried to ignore that fact, and the pressing question of if you’d be sleeping in his bed tonight, or upstairs on the couch like you usually did when you slept over. It wouldn’t have even been something you were wondering about if the air wasn’t thick with tension. In the dark room, you watched Gerard’s silhouette move over to his dresser and pull out a pair of shorts and a shirt for you to use as pajamas, walking towards you with the clothes in his hand.

He sat next to you, and you turned to look at his face, highlighted only by the moon, as you took the bundle in your hands. “Will you ever stop doing nice things for me?” you tried to joke, but coming off much more serious and desperate than you’d meant to. His face flushed, his hand tentatively reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You could hear your heartbeat as his hand brushed lightly against your cheek.

“No,” he whispered, his tone mirroring the sincerity in yours. His eyes caught yours, and you couldn’t help but be reminded of a few days prior when you were in nearly this exact same position. His head dipped down slightly, perhaps subconsciously, and this time you didn’t pull away. Still, you didn’t close the gap fully, allowing the question to hang in the air, allowing him to make the final decision.

As he finally leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, you expected your mind to be met with a churning storm of guilt for taking Gerard’s first kiss, images of arguments and tears, of his back turned away from you as you inevitably did something to hurt him. But no, you instead tasted coffee and the promise of something real that you couldn’t quite grasp and somehow didn’t feel the need to in the moment. Instead of fear, you felt his gentle hands on you; one on your cheek, the other resting gingerly on your hip. He pulled away after a moment, searching your face anxiously.

“Is…was that good?” he breathed. You nodded in response, too desperate for your hands to be on him to give him a teasing remark, and shortly after, your lips met his again, your fingers finding their way to his hair, while your other hand cupped the back of his neck. The kiss was soft, exploratory on his behalf, his arm snaking around your waist slowly. Your tongue swiped across his bottom lip before entering his mouth, eliciting a small moan from him.

The sound dizzied you, and your worries of ruining Gerard’s innocence immediately left your head. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, gently pushing you down onto the bed. You were slightly surprised by his forwardness, given that this was his first kiss—his first anything—but it was not unwelcome. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he continued to kiss you. You bit down gently on his bottom lip, the kiss still soft, the nip only an encouragement for him to do more. His hand slipped under your shirt, palm pressed against your abdomen.

With the kiss turning more heated, you supposed it would be best to leave your assumptions behind, as this night had consistently proved you wrong; the party hadn’t saved you from your distracted mind, kissing Gerard hadn’t been as scary as you thought, and he was infinitely less timid than you would have guessed, seeing as he was on top of you with his hand up your shirt. The kiss became more passionate, your legs wrapping around his waist.

As you did this, he shifted slightly, trying to hide his obvious erection, instead doing the opposite by making you aware of it. Your breath hitched slightly, hand wandering south. He pulled away for a moment, watching your hand and mumbling against your lips, “I’ve never, um. Done anything before,” (despite the fact that you knew) but making no move to stop what you were doing. You stopped the movement of your hand at his words.

“Do you want to?” you whispered.

“Please. D-don't stop,” he responded, voice trembling with need as he moved his kisses down your jaw. You pushed down his sweatpants with his help, his boxers following shortly after. His breath hitched as your fingers wrapped around him, letting out a shaky moan. After a few pumps of your hand, you pulled back, and he let out a slight whimper at the loss of contact.

“C’mon, sit on the edge of the bed for me,” you said in a soft tone, almost as if you were trying not to scare him away. He got up off of you and moved, and you slid onto the ground between his legs, shifting onto your knees in front of him. Gerard looked down, biting his lip slightly. There was no arrogant smirk or over-confident facial expressions written across his features, the way most guys were in a situation with a girl on their knees in front of them. He instead stared at you with tenderness, lust evident in his gaze but not the main nor most noticeable aspect of it. He seemed nearly startled that he was even in this position, but incredibly willing at the same time—not just willing to be here with any person, but with you.

The thought caused something within you to twist in a way you couldn’t decide made you feel guilty or not. You didn’t want to be worrying right now, when you were finally between the legs of the guy you’d had a crush on for years. You pulled him in by the front of his shirt, giving him a quick kiss before moving your attention down to his dick that was leaking precum, desire swirling in your gut.

You leaned in, licking it off, which caused him to let out a sharp whine, his fingers digging into the sheets on either side of him. You smirked slightly, wetting his cock with your tongue before your lips wrapped around it, beginning to suck him off. He began to breathe heavily, his head tilting back slightly, eyes squeezed shut.

“Fuck…” he groaned, your name escaping his lips shortly after. His trembling hand went to the back of your head, not pulling your hair but gently holding onto it like he was scared of hurting you, a subtle action that made your heart twinge.

“Is this alright?” he asked between broken breaths, opening his eyes to look into yours. You pulled away for a moment, murmuring a quick yes, before delving back in, mouth moving with purpose, drawing more noises from his throat, his fingers in your hair tightening slightly as his eyelids shut again. You pushed your head further down, eliciting a string of words that bordered on nonsensical from Gerard. This encouraged you further, taking as much of him in your mouth as he could, his tip hitting the back of your throat as you bobbed your head. You weren’t thinking about anything anymore, your only goal to draw as many sounds from him as you could, barely stopping for air as his moans grew louder. His hips began to buck up to meet your mouth, clearly beginning to lose control.

“Shit, sorry,” he mumbled, face flushing.

You let out a small laugh, “It’s okay. I don’t mind,” which seemed to reassure him, his face screwing up in pleasure as you continued. Your heartbeat raced, your only thought was his pleasure. Occasionally he would whisper small words of shy praise between his gasps and moans. After a few more minutes, his whole body was trembling.

“M’gonna—” he gasped out, the hand that wasn't in your hair digging further into his sheets. He finished with your name in his mouth, his cum shooting down your throat. You swallowed it, licking up the remainders along his length as he stared down at you in almost disbelief, still breathing heavily.

“Would you come here?” he whispered to you, and as you stood up from your kneeling position, he gently pulled you into his lap, arms wrapping around you. He buried his face in your neck.

“God, that was—Thank you,” he said sheepishly against your skin, planting a small kiss against your shoulder. A soft smile spread across your face at his shyness that didn’t fully leave despite his sudden bursts of confidence. Gerard lifted his head up, eyes flickering to your lips as he drew you in to kiss you again. It soon became more intense, and he led you onto your back where you’d been before.

After a moment, he reached for the button on your jeans, looking at you for permission. You were slightly surprised, expecting the night’s activities to have ended at the blowjob, perhaps a bit more kissing and nothing more. However, you were not opposed to the idea of it, nodding for him to continue. He kissed your lips again, whispering a small thank you, before gently undoing the button and pushing your jeans down. You kicked them off, before reaching up and pulling off your shirt, now just left in your bra and underpants.

Gerard’s fingers lightly grazed over your clothed core, then traced light patterns across your bare body as his lips met yours again, your back arching up slightly to help him as he fumbled with your bra clasp. You giggled slightly at the moment that would have been awkward had it been anyone else, causing him to blush as he finally unhooked it, pulling the nylon fabric off your body. He left small nips and kisses between and across your breasts, drawing shivers from you, before kissing you once more. A brush of his bare skin against yours had you craving more. Your hands roamed over his chest before slipping under his shirt, pulling it up and over his head after he gave you a nod of consent.

“D’you have any condoms?” you asked, leaving a peck on his clavicle.

“Yeah. Yes,” he mumbled breathlessly, reaching over to the drawers by his bed and pulling one out.

Once he rolled it on, you kissed him again, and spoke softly, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

He nodded, his hand brushing against your hip. “I…I’ve thought about it before. A lot,” he admitted, and even in the dark you could see his face turn red, making you smile. “I really want to.”

“Me too,” you said, shifting yourself under him slightly. He inhaled, planting a final kiss to your neck before lining his dick up with you and pushing in. Gerard let out a quiet moan, a sound similar to his leaving you as well. Your fingernails dug soft crescents into his pale skin as he sunk into you.

After a moment of waiting to make sure there was nothing that made either of you want to stop, he began to gently move his hips against yours. He was soft, like he was in every setting, every scenario, but you could feel the passion behind his movements, letting out a soft whine.

“Everything fine?” he whispered, and you responded with a small nod, eyelids fluttering shut. He sucked a dark spot into your neck as his body rocked against yours. Your breath hastened along with his as Gerard quickened his pace, causing the whimpers and moans of the both of you to gradually become louder. He kept his hand on your hip, his other arm propping him up.

Your fingernails dragged up and down his back, a clear contradiction to his gentle movements, which somehow didn’t leave you feeling like a thief of innocence, maybe because he didn’t seem to mind at all. You left small kisses and marks against his throat periodically, which would prompt him to move faster.

His hands and lips traveled across your skin, slowly, mapping out every inch and committing it to memory. His fingers across your stomach made you weak, drawing another shaky moan from your mouth. As he treated your body with nothing but tenderness, you realized it had never mattered to Gerard that you were a mess. He had always seen past it, and you’d never noticed the way he still thought you were beautiful when you were crying or hysterical, the way he still admired you when you were falling apart. You had always known that he was the most understanding person you’d ever met, but never imagined his empathy applied to you as well—at least not to this extent.

But right here, right now, with his loving hands across your body, you knew that he saw all of you—and still wanted all of you. Every emotion, every touch, became heightened, your body beginning to reach its limit. Near the end, he sped up, his movements growing slightly sloppy but never losing the gentleness he always carried, no matter how hard your nails were digging into him. He shifted slightly, hitting a new angle within you, the sounds leaving both of your throats becoming uncontrollable.

He finished right before you did, moaning out your name, continuing to move his body against yours until he was sure you were done too. Your fingers dug into his back a final time as you reached your peak, causing him to shiver, and he pressed a soft kiss to your collarbone. You both stayed still for a moment, wrapped in each others’ arms, the rate of your hearts gradually slowing down, pressing shaky pecks onto the other's skin.

After a while, he pulled out and threw the condom in the trash, still breathing heavily as he pulled his clothes back on. You looked at him as you dressed in the shirt and shorts he had given you to wear earlier, sitting up, and grateful you’d decided to finally ignore your fears and kiss the boy you had wanted to kiss for so long. His hand brushed against your jaw, pulling you closer to him.

“Are you okay? Was that…okay?” he asked, looking slightly nervous. “I mean, I thought it was. Not just okay. More than okay. Like, I really liked it. I really—” You smiled at him through a bitten lip, cutting off his rambling although you were still a bit short on breath.

“Don’t worry,” you softly peppered his lips with small pecks. “It was really good. You were really good. Especially for a virgin,” you added the last sentence teasingly, seeing the tips of his ears flush when you spoke. He didn’t know how to respond, instead leaning forward and kissing you slowly again.

You didn’t exactly know what else to say either, with so many thoughts swirling through your head it felt impossible, gratefully leaning in. “Let’s get some sleep, yeah?” You suggested after a little while. He nodded, lips grazing your neck, and you nestled under the blankets together, head pressed against his chest as you listened to the still quickened beat of his heart, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on your hip.

“I really did. Like you for a long time,” he said after a moment of silence. You lifted your head up to look at him, a stupid grin on your face.

“I should’ve kissed you sooner,” but behind the casual way you said it, you meant it sincerely. With those words, you meant that you should have realized how he saw you, accepted yourself and the fact that he desired you. He returned the smile, perhaps not understanding the meaning behind the five simple words, giving you a final trail of pecks against your lips and neck before leaning his head down and closing his eyes.

Gerard would probably never know about your internal battle to act on how much you wanted him. He would never know about the nights you had spent, wishing you were different so that you would be worthy of his lips on yours. He would never know about the guilt that tore away at you when he dealt with your problems or looked after you, or all the times you had nearly taken a chance, but hadn’t.

But as you drifted off to sleep that night, you decided it didn’t matter. You would make it work, because the very thing that had held you back from him was the very thing that would make you stay: Gerard was the sweetest person you knew. You would never allow yourself to lose him because you would be better for him than you ever had in a relationship.

If you had been different, you would have kissed Gerard. But in the end, he had not wanted a perfect girl, one who you yearned to be. He had chosen you.

[be4chywritez]

and they were roommates | matt rempe

matt rempe x fem!reader

Matt has had the biggest crush on you since he was 12 now you guys are roommates…

request: Can I request prompt 11 with Matt Rempe plz? 🥺

prompt: "It sounds like you’re flirting with me.” “I've been trying for years."

beachy’s masterlist🐚

Matthew Rempe has had the biggest crush on you since the summer you moved in right next door. You were both 12, and he vividly remembered the day your mother called out to you to introduce yourself.

You stomped down the porch, clearly annoyed, as your mother smiled softly at the Rempe family. “Y/n, these are the Rempes. They’re our new neighbors,” she said, gripping your shoulder in a way that clearly said, “behave.”

You made a face at your mom before turning to the Rempes and giving them a sour smile. “Hi,” you grit out, clearly not thrilled to be there. Matt watched you sit there fiddling with the strings of your shorts while his sisters, Steph and Alley, quickly fell into deep conversation with you. He noticed how your eyes twinkled when you talked about your hometown.

When Alley asked why you moved to Calgary, you scowled. “My parents got divorced, and I got stuck with my mom.”

That summer marked the beginning of a deep-seated crush that Matt had kept to himself for years. The Rempes and your mom became quite close, and you were at every barbecue and birthday party. He remembered the day he saw you in the hallways at school, and how you hated when snow melted through your Uggs, leading him to offer you piggyback rides every snow day.

And he remembered the day you got a boyfriend.

Alley’s squeals made him jump, and he raced upstairs, grabbing his hockey stick. When he burst through the door, you, Alley, and Steph were sitting on Alley’s bed.

“Oh my GOD, MATT, get out,” Alley said, making a face at him.

“Wait, I didn’t know y/n was here,” he said, leaning up against Alley’s desk but not seeing the shoebox sitting there. When he leaned back, he fell, the girls’ laughter filling the room.

Sitting up, Matt rubbed the back of his head, trying to play it cool. “So, what are you guys talking about?”

Steph and Alley exchanged a knowing look. They were well aware of Matt’s big fat crush on you. Steph smirked and said, “Y/n has a boyfriend.”

Matt felt a pang of jealousy but tried to hide it. “Oh yeah? Who’s the lucky guy?”

You looked down, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks. “Just Alex Marshall. He’s on the hockey team, actually.”

Later that week, Matt found out more about your boyfriend. The guy was on the hockey team, and word around the locker room was that he was just using you for your body. Matt’s protective instincts kicked in, and he decided to confront the guy after practice.

He cornered Alex in the locker room, his expression deadly serious. “I know what you’re doing with y/n. If you don’t back off and treat her with respect, you’ll regret it.” His hands gripped the neck of his jersey, and maybe it was because Matt was 6’3” as a freshman, but everyone in the whole school knew to steer clear of him.

Alex paled, stammering an apology before quickly gathering his things and leaving. Matt hoped that would be the end of it.

The next day, you were hanging out with Alley and Steph again, looking upset. Matt overheard your conversation as he walked by.

“He admitted he was using me,” you said, your voice breaking. “I can’t believe I fell for it.”

Alley wrapped an arm around you, offering comfort. “He’s a jerk, y/n. You’re better off without him.”

Steph nodded in agreement. “Exactly. You deserve someone who actually cares about you.”

Matt couldn’t stay silent any longer. He walked into the room, his heart aching for you. “Y/n, I’m really sorry. You deserve so much better.”

You looked up, surprised to see him there. “Thanks, Matt. I just… I feel so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” he said firmly. “And if you ever need someone to talk to or just hang out with, I’m here.”

Your eyes softened, a small smile forming on your lips. “Thanks, Matt. That means a lot.”

Both Alley and Steph stifled laughs.

The first time Matt realized he was in love with you…

Now, years later, you’re sitting in your cozy New York apartment, the afternoon sun filtering through the windows. You were sprawled on the couch, lazily flipping through a magazine while waiting for Matt to arrive. He had moved to New York two years after you, and you joked about being roommates. When your current roommate moved out, it seemed like fate.

You heard the door unlock, and Matt stood there, a wide grin on his face, holding a toolbox in one hand and a bag of takeout in the other.

he ducked the doorframe stepping inside. “I brought you Chinese.”

You laughed, taking the bag from him. “Perfect timing. I’m starving.”

As you set the table, you couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly handsome Matt looked, even in casual clothes. He had been your best friend for years, but lately, you’d started to notice him in a different light.

“So, what’s on the agenda today?” Matt asked, setting the toolbox down and joining you at the table.

“Just some minor fixes,” you said, handing him a plate. “And maybe some furniture rearranging. Nothing too crazy.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he replied, taking a bite of his food. “But first, let’s eat. Can’t work on an empty stomach.”

You both chatted and laughed as you ate, the conversation flowing easily. It was one of the things you loved most about your friendship with Matt—how natural everything felt.

After finishing the meal and cleaning up, you got to work. Matt tackled the more technical fixes while you handled the lighter tasks. At one point, you found yourself standing on a stool, trying to reach a high shelf, when you lost your balance.

Matt was by your side in an instant, his strong hands steadying you. “Careful there,” he said, his voice filled with concern.

You smiled down at him, your heart fluttering at the closeness. “Thanks, Matt.”

“No problem,” he replied, his eyes locking with yours for a moment longer than necessary.

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks and quickly changed the subject. “So, how’s everything going with the team?”

He launched into a story about his latest game, and you listened intently, enjoying the sound of his voice. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more between you, something intimate.

Later, as the sun began to set and you both took a break on the couch, you turned to Matt. “You know, those shelves look beautiful.” you say admiring the freshly painted shelves.

He chuckled, leaning back and stretching his arms. “That’s not the only thing beautiful here.”

“If I didn’t know any better Matt, it almost sounds like you’re flirting with me,” you teased.

Matt looked at you, his expression suddenly serious.

You felt your heart skip a beat, but before you could respond, he added softly, “I’ve been trying for years.”

You blinked, stunned by his admission. “What?”

Matt reached out, taking your hand in his. “I’ve been trying to tell you how I feel for years, but I guess I’ve never been good at it.”

Your heart swelled with love as you realized the depth of his feelings. “Matt, I…”

He squeezed your hand gently. “You don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know.”

You took a deep breath, feeling a rush of courage. “Matt, I’ve been feeling the same way. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

A slow smile spread across his face as he leaned in closer. “So, what do we do now?”

You smiled back, your heart pounding. “I think we start by making up for lost time.”

With that, he closed the distance between you, leaning down, his lips meeting yours in a tender, long-awaited kiss. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, finally together after all those years.

His hands rested on your lower back your hands come up to rest on his chest, a contented smile on your lips. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

“Me too,” he whispered, his eyes shining with happiness. “Me too.”

[formosusiniquis]

When Mike Wheeler, red faced and still faintly tear stained, asks him how he knew he liked both Steve doesn’t know how to tell him it was his sister.

Before Nancy Wheeler it had only been boys. Before Nancy Wheeler Steve had been sure he was gay and knew well enough to keep it to himself; dating around enough to earn himself a protective reputation. Before Nancy Wheeler there’d been Marcus Summers, from the baseball team, during freshman year. Steve had gone to every game, and had been forced to make up excuses about schoolwork and his other commitments when asked why he hadn’t tried out for himself. Before Nancy Wheeler there’d been Tommy Hagan. The summer between seventh and eighth grade had been very kind to Tommy, he was sunkissed and boy next door sweet, Steve had wanted to hold his hand and count the freckles across the bridge of his nose. 

Before Nancy Wheeler there’d been his first love, a boy who only visited one summer, the year Steve turned ten. His name had changed every time they hung out but he’d favored E’s. Eli, Emmett, Elliott, Eric, Excalibur, Excelsior, and once for about an hour Wayne. His hair brushed his chin in pretty brown curls and his big brown eyes were always bright with excitement. He always got storm off mad when any of the other boys they’d played with that summer said he was acting like a girl, E would run off to the woods and Steve would always follow. E always came up with the best games anyway, he didn’t like playing soccer or HORSE or anything else with rules that couldn’t be bent; he preferred imagination games where they were knights or wizards. He didn’t laugh when Steve said he always liked playing house, but never wanted to be the dad because why would he want to be someone who never wanted to spend any time with his kids. E who, while insisting on being called Samwise all day, was his first kiss.

Cause he knows what Mike wants to hear. He’s seen the way Mike and Will have danced around each other since the last portal closed. He’s heard the things Mike has said to and about Will. He’s heard all about the week that Will was in the Upside Down. He’s heard all about the summer of ‘85. He’s heard all about the final off again that seems to officially mark the end of Mike and El romantically. He knows that Mike wants him to say that he’d never even thought about boys before he met Eddie. That there’s just something special about Eddie that makes him want to give up his lady killing ways. That Eddie was different. That it was okay that he was having these scary new thoughts, maybe Will was just an exception.

And Steve doesn’t know how to have that conversation. When he realized he liked both it was a relief, that maybe he could have something normal and wouldn't have to spend his life lying or hiding. 

But Eddie was different. Eddie was special. Eddie was probably it for Steve which is scary in a different way that he’s not ready to touch yet -- not when it’s only been three months.

There’s never been another girl since Nancy Wheeler, not really

There will never be another boy after Eddie Munson.

So he tries to help, as best he can. It’s easier with Eddie there, not quite dozing against his shoulder -- the kid’s emergencies always seem to come so late at night these days. “When I was ten, there was a boy whose name kept changing who decided prince charming should get to kiss his faithful knight. And when I was sixteen, your sister-”

Mike’s goodwill diminishes quickly as his sister gets introduced to the conversation.

“Stevie,” Eddie says. It’s not an admonishment for bringing up Nancy. It’s awestruck and watery. “You remember that?”

“Of course I remember the first boy I ever loved," that word catches up with him a second later. Remember. 

Cause there's Eddie with his riot of brown curls and his Bambi eyes. Eddie, who has explained why soft feminine words chafe against his skin leaving him itchy and anxious. Eddie, who has an Uncle in Hawkins. Eddie who moved to town the summer before he entered high school with a buzzed head and his mother's last name. Eddie who finally settled into an E he liked best.

"Wheeler, here's a tip from me to you," Eddie says, his advice is always better received than Steve's anyway, "if you have to ask you probably already know."

"Straight people don't really spend much time wondering if they aren't really straight," Steve agrees.

They don't rush Mike out the door, a crisis is a crisis and even in the wake of new discoveries Mike deserves to be heard out. Deserves a chance to cry and rage and feel those emotions someplace safe from his Reaganite father -- just as much as Will deserves to have someone who knows what they want come to him, deserves better than experimentation.

They cross the bridge from late into early by the time Mike sets off. The sun is creeping up over the horizon and Mike looks solid, certain; the dawn hints at the man he is growing up to be. Though every instinct of Steve's begs him to drive the kid home, Eddie's soft hand lingering at his hip holds him fast. They wave instead, encouraging Mike to go home and to bed before he does anything; knowing his front bike tire is already pointed toward the Byers-Hopper place.

"The first boy you ever loved, huh, Stevie?" Eddie teases before the door has even managed to click shut.

"And the last, I'm hoping, if I play my cards right."

"You were always pretty good at that. You were the only person that summer who called me by my name, except Wayne."

"It was your name." He knows that's too simple. Knows how hard Eddie has had it, continues to have it. But that summer it had been that simple, Eddie trying on names like shirts each one fitting until they didn't. "For what it's worth, I like Eddie a lot more than Excalibur."

"Oh fuck off, I was going through a fantasy knight phase. Which I know you remember."

"Right a phase, and how much longer is this fantasy 'phase' going to last?"

They're the kind of tired that makes you feel drunk, when Eddie tackles Steve and sends them both to the floor and to giggles. Eddie might not have been his bi awakening, but Steve is pretty fine with him being his everything else.

[justliketoreadsowhat]

Sweater Weather ✰

✩𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 & 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 ✩

𝐀/𝐧; 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬 & 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐡��𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭, 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭

_______________________________________________

𝐈’𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐓“ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐟𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐳𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭. 

Today was one of the last college visits you had scheduled for the week, Becoming a transfer student was not something you had planned, but you no longer felt the desire you once felt as a freshman attending Ohio State University for the first time. 

The dire decision was made to pick your top 5 schools and visit them, one of them being Uconn. 

Traveling out of state was one obstacle, but attending a school that was strongly known for their sports was a different type of catch. 

“Girl please!” your sister Breah scolded as she sat on the edge of the bed watching you go back and forth on what to wear. “Your best bet is to wear bright colors and stand out on this huge campus, do you know how many fine athletes walk around here daily?!” she spiraled, throwing herself on the bed to her detriment. 

“Breah, we are not here for athletes remember? we’re here for a new environment and better educat-“ 

“DON’T give me that speech again, you have to realize college just isn’t about academics. Let yourself live a little at least” 

You’ve heard that line at least 20 times this week, and it’s only Wednesday, yet you’d be lying to yourself if you said she was wrong. 

“I am I am, I just want to get a good feel for everything before I make my decision y’know?” you said fiddling with your pedant that hung way too low on your chest for your liking. 

“Oh, sis this is it! you must’ve for Paige Bueckers goes here” she stated sitting up swiftly, ready to defend her statement, she knew you’d disagree.  “What more do you need from a University?” 

An immediate nerve struck throughout your body listening to the words flow from her mouth at a fast pace. Your eyes couldn’t resist rolling, “You will not focus this visit all on one girl you saw on TikTok!, be so for real right now” 

She busted out laughing from your reaction, almost as if she was in disbelief, “We both know she’s not just some girl y/n, she’s quite literally everywhere we look, social media, advertisements, I mean we haven’t even been on this campus for 30 minutes and I have seen her face on every poster possible!” 

She wasn’t lying either, Paige’s face was plastered on every corner possible here in Connecticut. You didn’t even want to mention the TIktok epidemic that had flooded your “for you page” after liking one singular video. 

“Yeah well she’s just.. a good player and-“ 

“She’s fine human and she just so happens to be good at many things, now let’s go tour this place, it’s going to be your new home for the next 3 years whether you like it or not” jumping from the spot she’s been sitting in for a prolonged amount of time, she grabbed your hand dragging you out the door from your shared suite.  You didn’t feel the need to argue with her anymore, the feeling of nervousness began to replace the urge for another bickering episode between the two of you. 

Moving the the double doors, the cool air hit your face sending goosebumps to greet your skin. “I thought it was supposed to be a little warmer down here” 

“Mm.. me too but, maybe if we walk a little faster we’ll warm up, just hold tight in your cute little sweater” Breah beamed at you before continuing her tug at your hand walking toward a path with brick and a sidewalk that could barely fit two people. 

“Do you even know where we’re going?, you’re just following your thoughts with no directions, can we at least ask someone where the student center is?” you pleaded, hoping her eager tangent would be put to a halt. 

“No we’re fine, how hard can it be to find a brick building that literally has “student center” right in front of it. she panned shrugging her shoulders without a care in the world. There had to be at least 10 buildings that were brick and ironically, the names were not in big and bold letters. 

The two of you stop dead in your tracks as you realize you’re now faced with 3 brick buildings that look nearly identical, unfortunately, there are no names, just 4 digit numbers painted and embossed on the front right above the large windows. 

“How hard could it be right?” you mocked her, letting go of her hand, fishing for your phone in your back pocket in need google maps assistance. 

"Well, I guess it's time to find out"

Before you could protest, her grip tightened on your hand as she led you right into the buildings, the automatic sliding doors revealed a spacious lobby, navy blue and white accent colors surrounded the walls. 

The scent of warm amber and fresh linen filled the air,  everything had a sense of calmness. 

"You know.. you had a point about her face being everywhere" taking a couple of steps back trying to examine the huge headshot of Paige's face aligned against the wall, accompanied by the rest of her teammate’s pictures all in unison. 

Your amusement quickly faded as you soon realized this was in fact, NOT where you were supposed to be. 

"Breah this is not the right place!" barely reaching above a whisper, praying nobody noticed the two of you sticking out like sore thumbs. 

"Well it might be.. maybe I can help, there's a map behind our pictures somewhere" an familiar voice chimed in with a soft yet high-pitched tone, causing your eyes to meet direct contact with a girl who was at least 3 times your height, big curly hair that nearly covered her eyes, vibrant brown skin that complemented her stature. 

And to no surprise, she was wearing a "UCONN Women's Basketball" long-sleeve shirt with matching sweats accented in navy blue. 

Great

"Um, that'd be great actually-" you paused frantically looking over all of the headshots searching for the familiar face that was standing nearly inches away from you. 

"Oh! my fault, I'm Aubrey" she smiled pointing at her picture proudly.

She was stunning, her smile was perfect, your sister quickly caught onto the thought roaming through your mind. 

"Oh! nice to meet you Aubrey, I'm Breah and this is my sister y/n!, we were looking for the student center, but this could work" interjecting herself with great stealth, it hardly ever fails. 

You carefully watched Aubrey's body language as she shamelessly let her eyes wander between the two of you, her eyes drifting back to your sweater, you could nearly see the whirlwind behind her eyes, you could slowly feel the sensation of regret grow seemingly stronger within yourself, this was a terrible idea. 

"I can walk you guys over there if you want, it's not that easy to find honestly" she shrugged, her tall frame leaned up against the wall, "but first, I think we need to take y/n to see the person who stole her fit" she smirked, motioning you to follow her lead down the long, brightly lit hallway" 

"I- I'm sorry who??" you staggered trying to gain an answer from her, if she thought playing a joke on you about the sweater was going to reel you in, this was definitely the last time you'd be seeing this place. 

You soon found yourself speed walking, trying to keep up with her legs was not anything you had prepared for. Glancing back to your sister behind you, she was smiling to herself admiring the entirety of the situation unfolding right before her eyes. 

The three of you came to a stop mid-way through the pursuit, Aubrey opened a transparent door that led to a well-furnished living room, gray couches, maple brown tables, and of course, navy-colored carpet covered the floor. 

Safe to say you were a sucker for good color coordination, that was until you saw a figure with colors that didn't match the area not one bit. 

"Aye P look! I found your twin, Nikka has some competition now" Aubrey laughed gently patting your shoulder, her large hands held the weight you were not expecting, but the feeling soon subsided as your eyes met Paige’s blue irises. They were way brighter in person, but not as bright as her sweater as she was dressed in the same one you wore, a long white t-shirt flowed beneath hers that fit perfectly with her tall stature. Her cream-colored cargo pants had enough pockets for two people, yet she somehow made the outfit look so well put together.

She was gorgeous

“I mean I’d like to say I wear it better but, you look pretty good in it yourself” her eyes roaming your figure, causing heat to rise throughout your body, she knew exactly what she was doing. 

Forcing a small smile to form upon your lips to prevent your knees from buckling, “Well thank you...” words were not forming in your brain “Where’d you get yours from? you asked pointing at her fit. 

“I thrifted it” she said proudly, looking down as if it was her most proud possession. There’s no way a woman as wealthy as Paige willingly goes to the thrift store, or so you thought.  

“Yeahh, what she won’t tell you is that I’m the one who found it for her” Aubrey chimed in shaking her head in disbelief “give credit when it’s due”

“Well you guys all have a good sense of fashion soo, why don’t you guys take pictures!” Breah examined yanking out her digital camera she had been dying to use ever since she bought it. 

Paige laughed at her sudden burst of energy, but the idea riddled something in her mind. “We can go downtown and take some when the sun goes down, the scenery always looks better at night, it’ll make your colors pop”

“You mean our colors pop, you’re taking some flick’s too right?” hoped laced in your tone.

“Oh most definitely, I would never turn down the opportunity to take pictures with someone as beautiful as you"

Suddenly there was no need search any farther, you officially knew where you wanted to spend the rest of your years.