#stranger!baekhyun

[finniigan]

a baekhyun sketch i found in an old folder,,, guess i never got round to posting it on here heh

[poutyboxian]

ROUXINOL — JAZZ BAR! AU (Chanbaek! fanfic)

# Disponível nas seguintes plataformas: SPIRIT. AO3 . WATTPAD

Trechinho de degustação:

"— Gostou da minha apresentação, barman? Será que mereço alguma bebida grátis? — Baekhyun perguntou assim que chegou ao bar. 

Após ouvir a voz do cantor, Chanyeol deixou os copos que secava de lado e foi até o balcão. Foi satisfatório assistir o sorriso bonito de Baekhyun se abrindo quando sua atenção se voltou inteiramente para ele.

— Seu canto é impressionante! É raro a voz de um cantor desconhecido deleitar tanto meus ouvidos, mas, quando isso acontece, é muito fácil cair em fascínio — Chanyeol falou com sinceridade enquanto observava os olhos de Baekhyun cintilarem e um sorrisinho mais contido fazer as bochechas do rapaz saltarem em direção aos olhos e alargar um tantinho o nariz bonitinho. — E sobre a bebida grátis, você pode encontrar uma excelente no bebedouro. — Piscou, sacana.

Baekhyun arqueou ambas as sobrancelhas, arregalou os olhos e prendeu o riso. Até da resposta afiada tinha gostado. 

— Já começou a se afetar com meu canto, Park? — Baekhyun provocou. — Mas o agradeço. Minha voz é meu instrumento de trabalho e é muito gratificante ouvir tais elogios, ainda mais quando vem daqueles que me ouvem pela primeira vez. — Mais um sorriso foi direcionado ao barman, que abaixou a cabeça e deu uma coçadinha na nuca. Chanyeol estava visivelmente desconcertado com o sorriso caloroso que o cantor o direcionou. 

Baekhyun iria continuar com as provocações sutis, mas um casal acabou por chamar a atenção do barman, que se apressou em atendê-los. Entretanto, antes de ir até os clientes, Chanyeol deslizou um guardanapo pelo balcão em direção a Baekhyun, que o encarou com uma interrogação no olhar.

Em resposta, Chanyeol abriu um sorrisinho lateral que destacou a covinha que possuía. E, contrariando as expectativas de resposta que Baekhyun achou que ganharia, o barman sussurrou apenas um "Vire o guardanapo" antes de colocar uma caneta ao lado do papel e se afastar para atender os fregueses.

Levado pela curiosidade, Baekhyun encarou o guardanapo por um segundo antes de virá-lo:

“Você fica ainda mais charmoso usando roupa social, Rouxinol.” 

[fairyixingwriter]

chanbaek — 40s!au (fanfic)

spirit fanfics  • wattpad  • ao3

[sophluorescentmusing]

FOXFISH

Kwangjang Market, Seoul Summer 2015

The heat of the market—inherent to this place, both for crowd and its quality of vendor—creates a thick sheen on his skin; it stokes up the amygdala like wind to the blaze, sets it to shivering and bleating and raring to leap into panic.

Exposure therapy. 

He’s trying it, not that he’d been advised to do so, but because he’d heard somewhere along the line that is was an overly accessible way of working through your emotions (perhaps Chanyeol at one of their infrequent lunches? It seems a sentiment more native to someone like Kyungsoo, who is easy-going and unflappable—more calm and peaceful than the former—but Baekhyun cannot summon the conversation to mind enough to decide one way or another). He thinks that, if the method were recommended by someone more clinical, professional, that it would come with parameters and advices beyond simply diving into it blind. Baekhyun’s always been impulsive with the heart, with healing and trying to heal. Thinks he can grab it up from the mold and shape it into what he needs at the snap of a finger.

The thought translates down his nerves. His thumb and middle-finger touch, press, and slide. Snap. 

The rabbit thumping against the walls of his heart does not falter in its pace. His sweat has made his T-shirt stick to the small of his back. He thinks, to some degree, that the exposure is helping. He allows the crowd to press to him, to move him propulsively into the depths of the market (where the only sign of a breeze is the one high over-head, ruffling through the international array of flags strung across the ceiling). The first time he’d come here (after the accident, he’d been many times before) he’d come earlier in the morning, and had still needed to step off to the side—out of the walking river between food stalls—and eventually leave the market entirely.

This second time, a month later, and he feels like each time a stranger’s knuckle knocks against his own his conviction grows; each time a stranger’s feet nearly trip up in his, he feels his steps become more certain. He hinges on the sound of laughter, of the murmuring and the humming and the talking. He makes a distraction of the noise, of the crowd, of the bright array of colors, of the plethora of scents—spicy, sour, savory, sweet. Not so much that he misses the noodle-stall he’d ventured here for, but enough that the heat does not seem so thick as it clings to his skin.

A greeting touches his tongue as he approaches the stall, but does not leave it. He’d come here as a kid. He recognizes the woman behind the counter (Park Seul-ki imonim), gracing everyone with a smile. He doubts she will recognize him. 

His sneakers scrape the wood beneath the bench as he braces, steps up and over, leg-by-leg. He finds that it’s easier to do things in that mechanical way (almost robotic, computerized, line of code by line of code—and he’s taken by a memory of his programming class in college, of his code failing and his father trying to explain his mistake despite not knowing the first thing about the language). 

Half-way onto the bench, he almost loses his balance. 

Catches himself, and he sits.

It’s not until his elbow knocks against the man’s next to him that he gets out of his head. Just quickly enough to catch the tail-end of: “—all right?” And that all-too-recognizable glint of concern laid across the words. 

Baekhyun glances sideways—catches a fox-face made soft by pity. God, is he that transparent? “Yeah, thanks.” His tone’s too flat (his music teacher would have given him so much grief for that); he cringes, but doesn’t apologize, or offer any explanation. He just sighs deep, feels entirely unlike himself, and orders with the noona helping imonim. 

The name: mul-naengmyeon rolls of his tongue with swiftness. What better way is there to chase away the heat than with the cold? But he is not so quick as to request his modification. The business of the dinner rush (influxed with both foreigners and tourists from other parts of the country) has noona reeling away to expertly handle another guest. 

He’ll just pick the cucumbers off the top of the soup.

It’s hard to ignore the way his chest constricts, tightens up like its been cinched with a rope.

It’s harder to ignore the lump in the back of his throat, sitting heavy on his tongue.

It’s hardest to allow himself to feel as he feels, and feel warranted to it, because he thinks himself silly. A little cucumber stands to make him crumble? Pathetic. 

“You sure?” That voice again.

Baekhyun blinks back the sting in his eyes. Irritation prickles at him. His tongue’s always been sharp when he’s over-worn. But, even as he turns, ready to draw a metaphorical line in the sand between himself and this stranger who thinks himself obligated to an answer—

“—Your soup, Baekhyun-ie.” 

The bowl is set before him, cucumber garnish nowhere to be seen.

He’s tardy with his thanks. The gratitude gets caught in the lump in his throat, but this time, manages to leap off the tip of his tongue. 

“—Cause you really don’t seem all right.” Imonim has moved on to the next guest, entrepreneurial despite her extension of kindness. In the gap she leaves, the fox at his side has chosen to continue his interrogation. 

“What’s it matter to you?” Baekhyun murmurs. He’s able to keep the acidity out of his tone. Nostalgia has twined with the grief and the overwhelming dirge of the day, and it has softened him—even if the irritation remains simmering. He doesn’t look at the stranger, but plucks metal chopsticks and a soup-spoon from the tin offered to each customer. 

“Well I suppose it doesn’t matter at all.”

“So then?” Baekhyun drawls, trailing off and raising his brow as he speaks. He stirs the broth and the garnish together, weighs if he should add lime atop it all (and after a glancing deliberation, decides to go without).

“My friend would say I’m chasing good karma.” That quiet, tumble of a half-laugh is more soothing than Baekhyun wished it were. It distracts his rabbit-heart, and the pause lingers. “I can leave you alone…” But he doesn’t want to. 

Baekhyun’s not unused to kindness. 

He’d been spoiled with affection growing up.

This elicits nothing more than the familiarity of that time.

“The heat’s getting to me—that’s all,” Baekhyun offers. He takes a bite of the noodles. His eyes flutter shut. For a moment, the crowd of the market is far away. Then, he blinks, and sound resumes him. “I’m hot-blooded or whatever,” he says, figuring it doesn’t hurt to fib early and wayleigh any potentially forthcoming questions. 

“Here I was thinking the heat didn’t seem so bad tonight.” There is the half-laugh again. “You must not come often, then?”

“No, not really.”

“Seul-ki recognizes you, though.” He noticed. 

“Imonim must remember the terror I was when I was younger.” He does not say aloud he’s ruffled by the lack of honorific, but he is. This stranger with his fox-smile is abrasive (yet charismatic), is insolent (yet politely kind, too). 

“You must have been some terror to have her recall your name. She always says her memory’s too bad to recall mine.” 

“Do you prompt her to call you by name?” Baekhyun sideyes him again, but the stranger is unfazed. His grin has not faltered—though it has thinned as he chews a bite of his food. His cheeks stretch across his bones. His eyes crinkle good-naturedly. Still, he has a sharpness to him—something that creates a disharmony of him (one Baekhyun cannot quite discern).

“Of course. I am her most loyal customer.” His voice pitches, becomes louder, and another plate of banchan is set down between the two of them. 

Along with it: “Behave, Jongdae.” With the same formality and strictness of one’s mother.

Seul-ki moves on, once more compelled to attend her other customers.

“You seem more a terror than I was.”

This time, the laugh is loud and unabashed—a bark of mirth.

“Perhaps!” 

[lisired]

honeymoon avenue

pairing: jaehyun x (f) reader

genre/warnings: smut, a pinch of angst, fluff, stuck in an elevator with your ex-fiancé, exes to lovers, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving)

summary: A year ago, wedding bells were ringing and you were screaming, “Yes!” at the top of your lungs. Last Christmas, you were supposed to be wed under a mistletoe. This Christmas, company finds you in the form of your ex-fiancé that broke off your engagement after you’re both inconveniently trapped in an elevator.

word count: 12.3k (complete opposite of a slow burn)

a/n: inspired by honeymoon avenue and my everything by ariana grande, undo (back to my heart) by tinashe, and ice queen by baekhyun. ‘tis the season! (it was xmas when this was originally posted lol). as always, feedback is appreciated!

Last year around this time, you had arranged to be wed. You recalled restlessly counting down the days until your lover would meet his lips to yours in front of all of your friends and family once granted the greenlight to kiss the bride. 

You had everything planned down to a “T.” The banquet hall would be emerald and burgundy. There would be an arch above you where a mistletoe would hang. The wedding cake would have Jaehyun’s surname. And everyone’s attire would be formal, though seasonal. 

It was supposed to be the best day of your life. 

A winter wonderland wedding seemed like an apt choice for you. You were so, so cold, but there was still an air of warmth to you. Now, your heart was unthawed. 

This Christmas - much like the last - you would be alone. 

It stung knowing you would be lonely for the second Christmas in a row and there was nobody at fault but yourself. You were miffed at your own behavior, but gave yourself no time to dwell on the past, doing what you knew how to do best - work until your brain went numb.

There was plenty on the roster today. A corporate meeting, phone calls to answer, and reports that wouldn’t type themselves. And that was to be brief. Speaking of which, you needed to brief employees about new protocols.

“Come on, come on, come on,” you chanted impatiently to yourself, tapping your foot against the floor. The elevators in your apartment were running later than usual today.

You heaved a breath of relief when the doors chimed open. Out went a group of people and in went you. Maneuvering your body to press the first floor button, you came to a halt when you noticed it was already selected and gleaming. 

That was when you finally noticed the man in the elevator - the only other person there with you - glancing down at his phone. You leaned against the railing and shifted your attention to the door nonchalantly, writing off the stranger as the very least of your concerns. Getting to work on time was paramount. 

As it always was.

Morning traffic is going to be brutal, you thought with a grimace. Every thought in your head revolved around work and how long it would take you to get there.

It would seem you would have no time for your morning coffee run. You remembered those times when you’d stay the night at Jaehyun’s, waking to a hot cup of coffee that he’d made just the way you liked it waiting for you.

Four words would permanently be etched into your memory. Have a good life.

With some disdain, you bade the thought retreat. Jaehyun was no longer a part of your life and you doubted he would want to be ever again. Not that you blamed him. It was your punishment alone. 

The elevator gave a jolt and you gripped the elevator for dear life, screeching, “What the…?”

The floor indicator donned the number one in a big, bold shade of red, though ironically, the door gave not an inch. Which was odd. You pressed the button that ostensibly opened the door in these types of situations, but to no avail. 

“Are we stuck?”

Your head snapped behind you and you nearly broke into a cold sweat when you noticed that the man lone in the elevator with you was no other than your ex-fiancé. 

Living in the same apartment complex as the man you were once fated to marry was no easy feat, but the multiple years of seeing each other made it simpler to avoid him. For one, you knew one another’s routines and thus what time to be out the door either before or after the other. 

That said, you had seen Jaehyun a couple of weeks ago, but the last time you’d spoken was when he returned all of your things from his apartment. Have a good life. Those were the last words he’d exchanged with you. 

That had been approximately a year ago, a couple of weeks before Christmas and the day you were supposed to say, I do.

“Appears that way,” you replied, clearing your throat. 

Jaehyun had his phone in his pockets now. You held your breath as you gave him a once-over. He was still handsome as ever, though that was to be expected. As far as you were concerned, he looked more or less the same as the last time you’d spoken, only his hair was a little lengthier. He still looked rather displeased to see you. 

And he was wearing a suit. Which meant he was most likely also trying to go to work. 

You frowned. Now you were thinking about Jaehyun in suits. Needless to say, that was a sore spot. 

A voice came over a speaker and you recognized it as Yangyang’s, one of the apartment staff. He spoke like he was reading from a textbook, “Passengers, do not be alarmed. Our technical team will be arriving shortly to repair the service. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

You mused aloud, “Can he hear us?”

“Loud and clear,” Yangyang chirped. 

“How long will it be before someone can help us?” you asked, never keen on being late. 

“I can’t say, ma’am. Anywhere from fifteen minutes and a couple of hours.”

You interjected to screech, “A couple of hours?”

Jaehyun clamped a soothing palm on your shoulder to calm you down. It was almost embarrassing how effortlessly his touch could ease you even a year after he broke off your engagement.

Yangyang explained in his usual exuberant tone, “The weather and usual early traffic may cause a delay, ma’am. They will be arriving as swiftly as possible and servicing is already underway by our maintenance staff.”

“Thank you, Yangyang,” Jaehyun said, smoothing his palm down your back. 

“Have a nice day, Mr. Jung. You too, ma’am.”

You heaved a breath. “So, it looks like we’re going to be here a while.” 

“Hopefully not that long,” Jaehyun said, recouping his hand. 

Though it stung, you understood. It went without saying that being trapped in an elevator with the ex that abandoned him was not part of today’s plan. He may have called off the engagement, but you were the one that left him high and dry. 

You broke his heart. Not only that, you stole his future. Everything he ever dreamed of, a wife and children, was thrown out the window because of your selfishness. 

Jaehyun recognized you would both be stuck together for a while and rather than sit in awkward silence, he asked, “How’s life?”

Darn him. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get the last words he had said to you out of your head. Have a good life. 

The breakup was bitter and stone-cold. Jaehyun made a couple of things unmistakably clear with those four words alone. For one, he was cutting you out of his life for good. And he no longer desired to be imprisoned within yours, being punished for no good reason at all. 

And you never fought him - never fought to win him over. Maybe because you had already known for some time that your engagement was in danger. It was beyond reclaim. Irrevocably damaged. 

Never one to appear weak, you said, “Good. Really good. I was promoted to secretary.”

Jaehyun perked up. You got what you wanted. But did I deserve to be the sacrifice, baby? Was it worth it? 

“Still a workaholic I see.”

You frowned. “Old habits die hard. How have you been?”

“I can’t complain,” Jaehyun said. “I wasn’t promoted or anything, but everything’s been pretty good over here.”

You had no doubts. Jaehyun was an editor and his line of work gave him plenty of leeway. For the most part, he worked from home, though there were instances where he came into the workplace. At least, when you last spoke, that is. 

“That’s amazing. I’m happy for you,” you said, willing yourself to smile. A part of you was strangely bitter. It didn’t want to see him happy without you. 

Though you no longer followed each other, Jaehyun still popped up on your Instagram homepage every now and then. And perhaps you’d searched his page more times than you cared to admit. Everything about his page was achingly sentimental and reminiscent of your past together. 

Pictures of him at museums or bridges at nighttime or parks with his hair whipping through the breeze. Once upon a time, you were the one taking those pictures of him. Now, you wondered who was behind the camera, living the life you’d carelessly given away. 

“Thanks,” was all he willed himself to reply. 

Your eyes instinctively fell to your watch and your head fell back as you groaned, “God, I’m going to be late for work.”

Jaehyun fought a snort. “Yeah, me too. At least there’s still some good news.” 

“Like what?”

“It’s warm in here,” Jaehyun commented lightheartedly. 

You chuckled. What a way to relieve the tension. Though Jaehyun never failed to make you laugh with ease. Except for when you broke up. Nothing was funny then.

Those weeks leading to the breakup may have been worse than the day it actually happened altogether. The feeling of knowing something was inevitably bound to happen yet being unable to prevent it was arguably worse than the emptiness you felt when Jaehyun announced he no longer wanted anything to do with you. 

Emptiness numbed you to the pain for a couple of days. You couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep. All you could feel was a bitter, nipping cold enveloping you, eventually splitting you right down the middle. 

Jaehyun subtly eyed you as you typed a message to your boss, warning him that you may have been late for work and telling him to proceed without you. Maybe some things never changed. You were still gorgeous, that was for sure. But you were also still married to your work. Ultimately, that would always prove to be your downfall. 

It seemed like only yesterday you were his. He was planning to meet you at the altar, itching to sweep you into his arms and kiss you the moment you were pronounced husband and wife. 

You had always been a workaholic. At one point, Jaehyun loved it about you. He never thought your relationship would be foredoomed because of it. Devoted and loyal were two terms that described you strongly. 

Although, maybe you had been too devoted to the wrong thing.

Your broken engagement was a prime example of what happened when you applied too much pressure to one thing and neglected the other. It was the wretched result of not finding balance. 

Everything you ever hoped and dreamed of flashed before your eyes. Once upon a time, you were both making plans to move into a house together. You wanted a pet. And you were thinking about children. 

Now, you were all alone. And you had never felt colder. 

For some reason, the absurdity of your predicament hit you merely moments after you sent the text message. It just didn’t seem probable to be trapped in an elevator with your ex-fiancé. Much less alone. You threw your head back and whined, “I mean, what are the odds.”

Jaehyun pitched you a confused glance. 

You winded a hand through your hair and elaborated, “Us being stuck in the exact same elevator and forcing ourselves to pretend we don’t mind. If I remember correctly, you had no intention of hearing from me again.”

“I think we should spare each other the awkwardness,” Jaehyun replied, donning an impassive expression. And tone. 

You bit your lip. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything. Jaehyun being kind to you should not have been mistaken and was probably more or less because he wanted to avoid as much tension as possible - not because he didn’t hate you. 

Jaehyun spoke up again to ask, “How long have we been here?”

You glanced at your phone and read the time. “About fifteen minutes, I guess.”

“So, we’re going to be here for a couple of hours,” Jaehyun quipped, trying to lighten the mood the best way he knew how. 

You winced, hoping there was an in between. “Not like I had anything else to do,” you mumbled. 

Jaehyun himself wasn’t exactly bummed about missing a day, or at least a couple of hours. Though this was you. He used to joke that hell would freeze over the moment you decided to actually take a day off. “They will survive without you for a while,” he comforted softly. 

You scoffed. You were carrying that company on your back. “I’m afraid that’s where you’re wrong. The whole building will be in flames if I’m not there within an hour tops.”

“I’m sure,” Jaehyun scoffed. “I’ve never seen anyone work as hard as you do.”

I have, you thought wistfully. Jaehyun fought harder for your relationship than you ever tried, but enough was enough. He was at his limit, giving more than he was receiving and he couldn’t let you take advantage of him anymore. 

Though it was intended to be a compliment, for whatever reason, your heartache was only amplified. You swiftly changed the subject. “So, what are your plans for the holidays?”

He shrugged. “Nothing special. I’m going to spend some time with my family.”

That caught your attention. “You haven’t been seeing anyone?”

Jaehyun only shook his head. He was afraid of opening his mouth and saying something that would make shit awkward again. For all he knew, you two would both be stuck together for potentially the next couple of hours and he did not want to spend it in suffocating silence.

Unfortunately, Jaehyun couldn’t deny that after your engagement was broken off, finding other girls had been hard. They came a dime a dozen, but none of them remained. Even after you were long gone, bits of you lingered, scattered everywhere across his life.

Jaehyun went to bed and thought of nights spent cuddling you to sleep. He visited his favorite cafe and thought of your go-to order. Jaehyun hooked up with other girls and thought of how beautiful you looked writhing underneath him, your voice calling out his name in a cry, dripping with sweet honey. 

Though you were forever gone, the memories of you still haunted him everyday. For so long, he had been convinced he was made for you. You were the only woman he ever wanted. 

And he couldn’t have you. 

Jaehyun commanded the thoughts to go away. You stopped being his long before the breakup. “You?”

“Oh, you know. With my line of work, I just don’t have the time,” you replied bashfully. 

That Jaehyun knew all too well. Just a little. 

He bobbed his head. “Sounds like you.” 

Guilt suddenly plagued your chest. Every second beside him you were reminded of the fact that you were the one who ruined a beautiful thing. You had gotten what you strived for, though in hindsight, the lengths you went to get it were brutal and cold-hearted. 

You had sacrificed so much of yourself to get to where you were. And now that you were standing at the top, you could finally see the collateral damage you’d inflicted at the bottom. 

There was only a good couple of feet to separate you and Jaehyun. And you absolutely loathed it. There was more distance between you when he uttered those four words permanently etched into your memory, before turning and heading out of your front door. 

Jaehyun fancied it no more than you did. Walking away had been hard. He looked back, but never stopped. A year ago, he was convinced that he would have moved on by now. But no matter how far apart you were, his heart was still one of your captives. Not only did he leave a piece of it with you, but the whole damn thing. 

He wanted it back. Damn it, he wanted you back. He wanted back every piece of himself he gave you, but above all else, he wanted back what you had. To go back to the way everything was the day he got down on one knee and asked for permission to hold your heart forever. 

He remembered like it was yesterday. Earlier that spring, he took you to a bridge. Not only was it one of your favorite spots in the city, but it was where you both first said I love you. 

Maybe that was why. Now, you couldn’t bring yourself to visit it anymore. The memories were too painful. 

Just like the first time he took you there, night had fallen. The bridge overlooked a river, moonlight cast into the water. Purple lights made the trail glimmer. But the moon was a little fuller, the air a little cooler. 

Not that either of you minded. To be with you, he was content. 

You were beaming. Even before he proposed. None of you could stop thinking about the night you first said that you loved each other. But when Jaehyun asked you to marry him underneath the moonlight, you were over the moon. 

You were chanting, Yes! Jaehyun had to sweep you into his arms and meet his lips to yours to cut you off. A very long time ago, the memory made him smile. Now, it made his heart swell with agony. 

His eyes were sad. And understandably a little angry. Even after all these years, you could still read him clear as day. You wondered if he could read you, too. You whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Jaehyun heaved a deep breath. An apology wouldn’t fix his broken heart and saying you were sorry wouldn’t undo the heartache you inflicted on him. It wasn’t okay. He hated you for leaving him lonely. For choosing your job over a future together. He would never forgive you for it. “I never wanted much. I never wanted all of your time. Only a little was all I was asking for.”

“I don’t want to go there with you, Jaehyun,” you said, exhaling a sigh of your own. 

All Jaehyun did was shake his head and murmur under his breath, “Classic.” 

A part of you bristled. Why Jaehyun always wanted to hash things out with you was a mystery. Fighting was draining and you never had the energy. A long day of work left you with only enough strength to take a long hot shower before crawling into bed. 

Not Jaehyun. He would never understand. The pressure to succeed, the struggle to unlearn the definition of success you were taught even before your adolescence. 

A year ago, everything was falling apart in your relationship. You were arguing more, spending time together less. Jaehyun was trying to salvage what was left. In his mind, fighting with you was better than not speaking to you at all.

Most of your memories with him were unforgettable, but when they were bad, they were excruciating to think of. You could still remember the last argument before the uncoupling. 

December was still fresh and the air was frigid, numbing your senses until you stepped into your warm apartment. Jaehyun was waiting for you there. A smile tugged your lips when you hung your coat and excitedly bounced into the kitchen, smelling hot chocolate. 

“Baby, I’m home,” you sang radiantly. At one point, it used to be your favorite line to say. A lifetime of obsessing over movie cliches was to blame. 

Jaehyun locked eyes with you and simpered. You looked nothing less than exhausted, though he found it cute on you. “Hey, my love. How was your day?”

You instantly groaned, “I’d rather not talk about it. Or think about it, for that matter.”

“Will a cup of hot cocoa make it better?”

You propped yourself on the island and flirted, “Made by Barista Jaehyun himself? Of course.”

Jaehyun handed you a mug and you accepted it gracious, muttering, “thank you.” He was the sweetest thing you could ask for. Even sweeter than the hot cocoa warming your palms. 

That was how the arguments always began. They were sweet, innocent moments - until they weren’t. 

Your lover dipped behind the island and returned with a mug of his own, still steaming with freshly hot cocoa. You thought absolutely nothing of it. Not until he opened his mouth. “How does a date night on Friday sound?”

You frowned. “This Friday?”

“Well, yeah,” Jaehyun said, rubbing his nape. “It’s been a while, you know. Since we’ve gone out on a date.”

That was true. Jaehyun always had some extra time to spare. He wanted to spoil and indulge you at every given chance. But you were always busy. Even when you were off the clock, you were still on the clock. And more often than not, you brought work back home with you. 

“I’m so busy and so tired, Jay,” you whispered gently. God knew you wanted to, but you didn’t have the time and much less the energy. 

“I get that,” Jaehyun started. “But can’t you take even a day off?”

“I’m aiming for a promotion, Jaehyun. I have to prove myself. My boss has been dangling this shit in our faces for the past few months. I can’t let an opportunity like that slip away.” 

Jaehyun was rapidly getting frustrated and reminded, “You do realize we’re getting married in a few weeks, right?” 

Your eyes flickered. “Yes, I do. And I plan to be there.”

“At the rate you’re going, I wouldn’t be surprised if you stood me up.”

Your heart sank. “How can you say that?” 

“How couldn’t I?” Jaehyun snapped, evidently pained. “We’ve been engaged for the past nine months, but it doesn’t feel like I’m about to get married. It feels like I’m losing you because you’re too absorbed in your goddamn job.”

“Are you asking me to choose you over my job?” you asked, standing to your feet. This entire argument was an affront to your pride. 

“No. There is no point in giving you an ultimatum when I already know that you will choose your job every time without hesitation - you already do. I’m asking you to make room for me, but I can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to.”

You countered, “I do want you.”

“Do you?” Jaehyun snapped, skeptical. “You can’t even go on a date with me. You want a promotion more than anything else.”

You sighed, “I don’t want to fight, Jay.” 

“I know that. You don’t want to fight for anything,” Jaehyun said bitterly. “You would rather watch us burn to ash than fight for us.” 

Anger plagued you and you were prepared to hurl something back, but he didn’t give you the chance. 

Jaehyun added, “I don’t like the person this job has made you become. I want the woman I proposed to back, and I’m scared she’s not there anymore.”

Your words were cold as ice, “Then, leave.” 

And the rest was history. 

There was nothing you could say when Jaehyun left you, no fight for you to give. It was you that sent him away. It was you that made him leave. He had only given you what you asked for. 

Old habits died hard. The one-year anniversary of both the breakup and the day you were supposed to be married was rapidly approaching and to distract yourself from the pain, you were burying yourself in work. You didn’t want to think about Jaehyun and what you almost had. Not even for a second. And then, today came and ruined everything. 

Now, you were being forced to confront the past. 

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. You’re stronger than this. God, you wanted to be anywhere but here right now. Tears burned your eyes, but you would never let them fall. Not with Jaehyun there. You didn’t want him to see the mess he’d left of you - how miserable you were without him. 

You wanted to mend everything back together, but it was too late. Everything was irreparably broken. You had the opportunity to patch things up, and you passed it up. No more time could be wasted crying for the moon. 

And still, somewhere deep inside, you knew Jaehyun would steal it for you. 

Jaehyun saw your eyes and softened a little. Damn it, they still made him weak. Your tears were made of diamonds and they were priceless. Jaehyun said, “My mother still talks about you, you know. She asks me when we’re going to get back together.”

Your eyes flickered. “That’s… interesting,” you lied. “I thought she would hate me. And be more protective of her baby.” Because I broke your heart. 

“You know my mother always loved you,” Jaehyun chuckled fondly. “I don’t think anyone believed in us more than her - not even ourselves.”

Somebody had to, you thought weakly. Though Jachyun was a romantic to his core, even he had to eventually throw in the towel.

Everyone thought you and Jaehyun would be the perfect match. Each of your families were anticipating a beautiful wintry nuptial ceremony on Christmas day. And when news of the uncoupling broke loose, your people weren't exactly shocked, but they were heavily disappointed.

You were clearly the problem. Until you learned how to balance, you would never be happy in love. Up until now, you were beginning to become content with that fate.

Though now, your heart was greedy.

Jaehyun’s mother crossed your mind. She was the epitome of an angel and the fact that she still wanted you in her son’s life after all the pain you caused him was deafening. But what about what Jaehyun wanted? Does he even still love me?

Every moment spent with his mother had been wonderful. She spoke fondly of him and vice versa and supported him unconditionally. It was true motherly love and it made your chest stiffen, taut with envy. Ever since you were a kid, you only knew pressure. Your parents wanted you to have the life they didn’t when they were your age, but they were very strict in how they went about it. 

Tough love was all you received. They didn’t help you through trying times. You were expected to suck it up. You were taught that tears were a sign of vulnerability and vulnerability was weakness. 

You fought them back with everything you had and said, “How does she know I wouldn’t mess things up again?”

“I don’t know,” Jaehyun told you, not disputing the fact that you had essentially destroyed everything. It stung, but it was the truth. “She says ‘a mother knows best.’”

Jaehyun watched you struggle to hold yourself together. You were good at pretending to be okay and smiling through your pain, but he was even better at seeing through you. He saw you through a lens that only a man who loved you with his whole mind, body, and soul for years could see. He saw all your weaknesses, all your flaws. But he never judged and he saw something else in them, too. What made you beautiful. 

“But what do you want?” It was killing you. For as long as you stood there, you needed to know. 

“I wanted you,” Jaehyun replied honestly. “But you wouldn’t let me have you.” 

You shook your head. “You had me. Every piece of me - it belonged to you.” 

“That’s not how I remember it,” Jaehyun muttered. “You had my heart, but your work had yours.”

“That’s not true.” 

Jaehyun was firm. “It is and you know it.” 

“I loved you,” you told him softly. 

“Well, you sure had a funny way of showing it.”

You gripped the railing to anchor yourself. It didn’t move, but you could feel yourself slipping into weakness. “I don’t know how to stop, Jaehyun. I think it’s a part of me now. It’s hard to stop doing something you’ve done your whole life.”

I don’t like the person this job has made you become. I want the woman I proposed to back, and I’m scared she’s not there anymore.

Maybe he was right. Maybe that woman was long gone. 

A cloud of melancholy came over you, pouring over you and Jaehyun. He told you somberly, “I could have helped you if you would have let me in. But you were pushing me away.” 

“I know,” you said, meeting his dark eyes. “But I wish I would have known back then. I never realized I was breaking us apart. Not until it was too late. I thought I was doing what was best…”

Jaehyun finished darkly, “You were doing what was best for yourself. Not for us.” 

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but quickly accepted he was right and instead said, “I was wrong. I was selfish. I wasn’t considering how any of it made you feel and that’s a decision I have to live with now.” 

“Do you regret it?” I need to know if my broken heart was worthwhile.

Your eyes burned. “Every day of my life.” 

“Why?” Jaehyun questioned, voice barely above a whisper. “You got the promotion. Isn’t that what you wanted?” 

“I thought it was,” you muttered. Your chest was swelling with self-disgust and agony and anger. Not at Jaehyun, but at yourself. “But when I lost you, I realized that everything I needed was already right there. Until it wasn’t.” 

Jaehyun was quiet but pensive. As if he was trying to trace exactly where everything started going wrong. 

Even in school, you were devoted. You were the valedictorian of your class. Jaehyun used to steal you away to kiss you behind the bleachers. But you would always be there for his basketball games, cheering him on better than any cheerleader. 

High school sweethearts, he thought wistfully. In high school, you won prom king and queen. Everyone thought you would last forever. That only God himself could part you.

How beautiful it was to be young, dumb, and in love. 

Jaehyun knew your issues stemmed from your childhood. When you were still in high school, sometimes you had to blow him off to study. He remembered you cancelling hangouts because your parents refused to let you out of their house until you studied until you were cross-eyed. Their house, their rules, was the policy. 

But he also remembered those nights when he would hear a knock on his bedroom window and smile when he saw you beaming at him through the glass. One December night, you were crazy enough to sneak out during the nipping cold, shivering and rubbing your arms outside his window. 

Though it was many years ago, Jaehyun remembered that night clearly. His mother made you hot cocoa and promised not to tattle. She always had a soft spot for you and held some disdain for your parents. She claimed they worked you too hard. 

Everything was so perfect back then. He knew what changed, but he couldn’t understand why. You used to make time for him whenever you could. As the pressures of adulthood caught up to you, it all came to a slow, brutal end. 

But why?

Then, leave. Those were the two words he would never forget. They were powerful than the I love you’s - more powerful than the I miss you’s. Your clipped, icy tone, would maybe someday be forgiven, but never forgotten. 

A stubborn wound was forevermore slashed on his heart waiting for you to heal it. 

You were breaking. Every part of you was crashing down. A familiar ache split your heart right down the middle. “I’ll never forgive myself for throwing away the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to me. I didn’t know what I had until it was gone and I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am.”

Your ex-lover was mawkishly nostalgic and sentimental and never said he forgave you, for that would take a while longer, but told you, “I knew I was the second priority in your life after your career. And I was okay with that. Then, it started to feel like I had no place in it at all. I was at the end of my tether, a stranger to the woman I was supposed to marry, and I knew we couldn’t carry on like that, my love.”

My love. That was what Jaehyun always used to call you. Your eyes flickered. “Do you still…?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever completely get over you,” Jaehyun admitted forlornly. 

That was when the dam broke. Jaehyun had dismantled you piece by piece and left you vulnerable. You had no strength to fight back the tears rolling down your cheeks. 

Jaehyun’s arms, as they always were, were wide open. He pulled you into his warm embrace and let you sob into his chest, smoothing his hand down your back and protecting you from the sharp coldness of your own pain. You were beleaguered to remember the last time you let yourself cry. You let everything pile up until the water pressure became too much. 

“Shh. It’s okay. Let it out,” Jaehyun crooned, gently stroking your hair. “You’re not weak.” 

There was an ache resurfacing in your body and it was purely unshakable. Your heart was whole, but hollow. Only its pleas to be back with Jaehyun - where it belonged - rang out in the icebound, empty void. 

Being in Jaehyun’s arms only made you nostalgic and the pain hit you harder. You thought regretfully of those moments in the past when he would hold you for all to see. And you remembered going to bed and always knowing he was still there, because you would feel his arms still tight around you and smile. Like he wanted to protect you, even while asleep. 

You sobbed, “I don’t deserve you.”

Jaehyun gently pushed you back only a little and looked you in your eyes. He wiped your cheeks with his thumb and told you calmly, “You made a mistake. We all do.” 

The gesture made you soft and weak. Goddamn it, you were so weak for him. Like your knees would give in any moment now. 

“Not like the one I made, though.” 

“That’s true,” Jaehyun said. “But do you regret it?”

Your voice wavered, “More than anything.”

“Then, I forgive you.”

You shook your head, not knowing how to accept that. You didn’t deserve forgiveness. You didn’t deserve understanding. But that was the kind of person Jaehyun was. 

He deserves someone better than me, you thought somberly. But you wouldn’t know what you would do with yourself if he found that someone. 

“You should hate me,” you said softly, voice cracking. “I broke your heart. I broke us.”

Jaehyun shook his head. “You know what my mother always says?” 

“It doesn’t only matter if you break something, but if you’re willing to put it back together,” you said, smiling fondly at the memory of his mother. She always treated you like you were her own. 

Jaehyun nodded and asked, “Are you willing to put us back together again?”

You mulled it over. There was no doubt that you were willing. Back then, you were too in your head to notice reality. Now, you were blindsided by pain and regret and inclined to do anything to make it stop. “What it I mess up again?” 

“Relationships aren’t perfect. People fuck up and people make mistakes. You’re only human,” Jaehyun told you frankly. “I’ll be there to help you clean it up. But don’t let me pull all the weight. We both have to fight together.”

“Okay.” You knew what you wanted now. It wasn’t that job. It wasn’t a promotion. It was the man that had spent half his life loving you, and would still love you for the other half. “I’m willing.”

Jaehyun smiled. A part of him couldn’t fathom how this was happening. The hole in his heart was steadily being sealed. He pulled you back flush against his chest. 

The tension in the air seemed to alleviate then. You could finally breathe again. Being in a tight space with the love of your life didn’t feel suffocating anymore, but closer to relief. 

You were talking freely again. You missed just being able to have a conversation with Jaehyun, recalling those times when you would discuss anything under the sun. Long nights of talking the moon away knowing full well you had work in the morning hit you. With Jaehyun, the small talk was skipped. You could discuss anything and everything. 

There was no worry, no fear. Sometimes, there would be tension, but never the unpleasant kind. Only moments ago, those times seemed like merely a distant memory. Now, there was hope that you had Jaehyun back. 

In his arms, you realized that was where you belonged. It was your safe haven in a world filled with danger. Your secrets were safe with Jaehyun and you were free to be vulnerable, because you knew he would never betray you. No matter what happened between you both, whether you were angry or in love, you knew whatever you told each other would forever remain under lock and key. 

“Do you remember the arch?” you asked, wistfully recalling what could’ve been. “I wanted a mistletoe up there. For some reason, I couldn’t shake the thought of kissing you underneath it for the first time as your wife.”

Jaehyun chuckled fondly. “I remember. I also remember you wanted John Stamos to marry us because he was your, and I quote, ‘true first love.’”

You nudged his side. “Hey, I would have also accepted Shemar Moore.”

Goddamn it, now Jaehyun was thinking about kissing you. His eyes fell to your pretty lips, still as enticing as they used to be when you were his. Never had he wanted to kiss you so badly. Like it would heal the wounds caused by missing you. 

Can I… can I kiss you?” Jaehyun asked. 

You said with no hesitation, “You can do whatever you want to me.” 

Now that he had your permission, Jaehyun didn’t waste a second to envelop your lips in his. Only then did you realize how much you missed feeling his lips on yours, how much you craved tasting his tongue in your mouth. You had gone so long without, but ironically, he still felt like home. And making out with him felt right as ever. 

Jaehyun kissed you so fiercely that he nearly swept you off balance and caught your hips in his arms. Your fingers threaded through his hair, back against the railing. He kissed you to make up with the wasted times he spent with other people. You kissed him to make up for the wasted times you could have spent with each other. To fill the void and patch each other back up. 

He taught you what love was. It was letting each other in instead of freezing each other out. It was was building something beautiful together and fighting to protect it instead of letting it all fall apart and into ruins. 

Kissing you eased Jaehyun’s heart. His pain was forgotten and he was overwhelmed with his undying love for you. He would never get over you, no matter how hard he tried. A love like the one you had would take more than a lifetime to get over you.

The way you immediately clicked, it was like you knew each other in a past live. Even now, his feelings were unabating. In his next life, it would still be you and only you. Always and forever. 

You were so besotted with Jaehyun and the way his lips tasted that neither of you noticed the elevator door opening. 

Yangyang cleared his throat. “Um, guys?” 

Both of you whipped around, more than a little shocked to see the door open with Yangyang standing in the middle to prevent it from closing on you. 

Jaehyun looked at you and asked, “How long have we been in here?”

“Approximately two hours,” Yangyang chirped. “You’re free to go now. By free to go, I mean please exit the lift. As you can see, there’s a bit of a line.”

You looked behind Yangyang and saw a couple of people impatiently waiting to travel upstairs. You lowered your head and flushed. Jaehyun laced his fingers through yours and led you outside of the elevator, smiling like a dumbass. He didn’t care who saw. He couldn’t have been any more happy than he was right now. 

“Well, we’re free,” he said once you were both in the clear. Then, he frowned. “But we still have work.”

You winced. “And I wasn’t kidding about the place burning down. I really need to be there. I know how that sounds, but I promise I’ll make it up to you later. Do you trust me?” 

“Of course,” Jaehyun said, grabbing your wrist and kissing the back of your hand. 

Your heart tugged at the gesture. Why’d he have to be so goddamn perfect? 

You got on your toes and pressed a brief kiss to his lips, feeling butterflies swimming in your gut. It seemed they had come to visit again. “I’ll see you later, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun told you goodbye and watched you leave. It hurt a little to see you go, but he knew you would come back to him. You always did, even if it took a year and unlikely circumstances. 

When you were gone, he turned around and grabbed his phone out of his pockets. He had to tell his mother that maybe she knew best after all. 

Night fell. Jaehyun still hadn’t heard from you although you should have been off from work hours ago. A part of him was worried, but he still trusted that you wouldn’t give in to your old habits. It was Friday night. Maybe you were resting and would see him tomorrow. 

Jaehyun went into his living room and played some music. The atmosphere reminded him of you. Holding you in his arms and spinning you around. Everywhere he went, he could still hear your voice and laugher ringing in his hair, like the ghost of you was haunting him. 

He shook his head. You drove him mad. He accepted that he would never forget you, much less the way it felt to love you. 

The doorbell ring and he could barely hear it over his music. Jaehyun didn’t pause it, but went to open his door and was pleasantly surprised to see you standing there. 

“What are you doing?” Jaehyun asked. 

“I told you I would make it up to you,” you said, breath condensing in the air. You gestured to the pair of grocery bags in your arms. 

It was Jaehyun’s natural instinct to take them out of your hands, and turning, he said, “Hurry up and come in. It’s cold outside.”

You didn’t need to be told twice and followed him immediately, shutting the door behind yourself. It was warm and cozy inside his apartment, as always. You hung your coat on the rack and glanced around, memories hitting you tenfold, square in the heart. Everywhere your eyes fell, you saw figures of you and Jaehyun. 

Dancing in the living room. Movie night marathons on the couch. And racing down the hallway with your lips on the other’s and your hands desperately trying to remove each other’s clothes as you messily stumbled into the bedroom for a long night of loving. 

“I see you’ve already set the mood,” you joked when you noticed the music playing, watching him set the groceries on the counter. 

Jaehyun beamed. “I wasn’t even expecting company.”

“Sorry for showing up unannounced.” You smiled coyly, approaching the kitchen. “I’ll make it up to you. And no, you can’t help, Chef.” 

“Please?” 

You grabbed a gigantic wooden spoon and pointed at him. “Sit your ass down.”

“Jesus. Alright, then,” Jaehyun said, lifting his arms defensively. Ever stubborn were you. The reminder roused a chuckle from him. “Have it your way then, bossy.”

“I will.”

Jaehyun shook his head, still cheesing like an idiot. You were still iron-willed. That part of you would never change. 

You cooked dinner in Jaehyun’s apron and he laughed at how big it was on you. The memories were overwhelming now. It seemed that no matter where you were or what you were doing, his mind would always find a way to remind him of your presence. 

But the memories didn’t have to be bitter or painful anymore. He wanted to try again. He wanted a fresh start, a chance to repaint the canvas and a clean slate. As long as you were both determined to make things work, Jaehyun had faith in you and him. 

“Dinner was amazing,” Jaehyun complimented, throwing your dirty dishes in the sink to be remembered later. He stepped back over to the island and trapped you in his arms. 

You peered up at him, cheeks warming. “Thank you.”

Looking into your pretty eyes, Jaehyun couldn’t resist the temptation to kiss you anymore. You made a noise of surprise when he met his lips to yours, caught completely off-guard, but you kissed him back. It would be fighting your instincts not to. 

You closed your eyes and let Jaehyun guide you, trusting he would never lead you astray. When he kissed you, he melted away your icebound surface and got under your skin, peeling you back layer by layer. You liked kissing Jaehyun. Way too much. Even now, you could still recall the first time you made out, hiding behind the bleachers on campus yet gigging loud enough for all to hear. 

When it came to each other, you both were like moths to the dangerous flames of love. Love would always unite you again. You couldn’t resist those pretty, twinkling sparks of fire. And you couldn’t get enough of the burn. 

Jaehyun was confused when you pulled away, but looked into your eyes again and saw a kind of sadness twinkle in them. Your voice was weak, “Why don’t you hate me?” 

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to, baby,” Jaehyun said, finding your hand and squeezing it firmly. “And believe me, I tried. Even if a part of me did hate you, an even bigger part of me will always love you.”

That was all you needed to hear before you were sucking on his tongue again, wet kissing noises tangled in the sound of old school music. 

Then, Jaehyun pressed you into the counter, kissing you even rougher. You were riling him up, moaning into his mouth and that noise would never not do it for him. A different kind of fire came over you when you noticed him very impatiently unbuttoning your blouse. 

Same old Jaehyun. At heart, he was still the same as the cute boy you fell in love with. You were pleasantly impressed that kissing you alone still got him up. 

You broke the kiss again to ask through jagged breath, “Do you think we’re moving too fast?”

“Probably,” Jaehyun replied. Not that he gave a damn. Unless you did, of course. “Do you wanna stop?” 

“Jaehyun, I literally have not had sex in over a year. If you don’t fuck my brains out I think I’ll cry.”

Jaehyun chuckled darkly. “That can be arranged.”

You made a noise of surprise when Jaehyun cautiously scooped you into his sturdy arms and lowered you onto the counter. You made out hotly, his hands continuing to quickly unbutton your blouse and yours pulling his shirt above his head. 

The sight of his happy trail and toned abs made your core throb. And your mouth water. Your palms involuntarily slicked over them, feeling nothing but hard skin and muscle.

“See something you like?” Jaehyun asked, grinning in the most annoying way possible. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat and said, “Still a gym rat, I see.” 

Jaehyun bobbed his head. “Yeah. I still hit the gym with Johnny when we have spare time.”

That you knew. Despite the breakup, you and Jaehyun still had a ton of mutual friends, chiefly from high school. You recalled seeing Johnny post one of his gym visits with Jaehyun not too long ago. 

And you also vividly remembered the sight of Jaehyun, donning sweats and a blank tank-top. He drove you absolutely feral. His hair was matted to his forehead with sweat and his biceps were flexed, showing off his muscle. You would always be a sucker for a burly man that could snap you in half if he so pleased. 

Jaehyun expertly removed your bra and tossed it somewhere to be forgotten. He wanted to see your breasts bounce while he pounded you into oblivion. Your skirt followed, but Jaehyun slid your panties to your ankles at a agonizingly slow pace, all the while smiling like an idiot as you gave a needy and impatient whimper. 

“You’re already so wet,” Jaehyun murmured, drawing an invisible pair of lines on your bare cunt with his fingers. “Did you miss me that much?”

You whimpered, “Please, Jay.”

Hearing you call out his name like that was all it took for Jaehyun to lose all sense of self-restraint and he spread your thighs apart with tenderness, burying himself between them. You let out a sharp cry, throwing your head back. Some of your best orgasms were the ones when Jaehyun ate you out until you physically could no longer take it and begged for him to stop. 

Jaehyun targeted your clit immediately, a testament to the fact that he knew your body intimately. Your thighs clamped around the sides of his head, unaccustomed to the pressure. 

He merely clasped your thighs in his palms and held them freestanding, undeterred as he continued to lap at you like with the hunger only a untamed beast could have. 

“Fuck,” was all you could say, curses dangling from your lips. You had been touch-starved for over a year and the familiarity of Jaehyun’s touch was overwhelming in the best way possible.

Despite the fact Jaehyun handled you gently, with love and tenderness and nothing but, he ate you out like an animal. 

Jaehyun longed for the taste of you, arousal gathering on his tongue. He loved unraveling you like this. You could never stay still, much less quiet when he was going down on you. The sight of you, head angled back and moaning his name nearly made him cum in his pants. 

Your fingers clamped locks of his hair and Jaehyun groaned, somehow spurred on by the gesture. You were making noises left to right, feeling yourself nearing your peak in record time. A year of no sex factoring in a skilled partner would absolutely do that to you.

Your lover learned to recognize you at the threshold of release a very long time ago and briefly parted from your pussy, substituting his mouth with his fingers as he sang, “Just let go for me, baby. It’s okay.”

It was clear that your body had every intention of obeying him. Naturally, it submitted to Jaehyun, with no fear and no reluctance. He knew it and it knew him. 

“Oh my God. Jaehyun,” you moaned, thighs twitching. Not wanting to hurt him, you clamped your nails into the counter, eyes closed as the pressure threatened to consume you from head to toe. 

Jaehyun talked you through it, whispering, “Do it for me, baby. Just let go.”

Not too much longer, orgasm seized you, rendering you weak and defenseless. You had no strength in your body to fight it even if you wanted to, weakened by his touch. Your toes clenched and you cried his name, fingernails scraping the island roughly enough to damage both your nails and the countertop.  

Jaehyun didn’t stop eating you out until you went rigid, chest undulating. You looked a hot mess, heaving for breath and your lips parted, easing the airflow. 

“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asked when he moved from between your legs, fighting off a smirk at the sight of you completely disheveled. 

“Not until you fuck me,” you rasped, still needy in spite of still trying to catch your breath. 

Jaehyun snickered and tugged his pants down, underwear soon giving chase. You positively gawked when you saw his bare, thick dick. It never failed to make your mouth water. And your body tremble with release. 

You kept your nails at your sides as Jaehyun lined his cock up at your entrance, gently easing himself past your sheath-like walls. He still clasped his hands at your thighs, brows crumpling  with concentration. You were still so goddamn tight, clamping around him with a grip almost vice-like. 

“Jay,” you whimpered, hands clenching into fists. 

“Shh,” Jaehyun whispered, moving his mouth to the side of your face. There was a catch in your breath when you noticed his lips brushing against your ear, breath tickling your nape. “Open up for me, baby.”

The sensation of being filled completely made you feel nothing short of relief. There was a wet noise when Jaehyun’s hips smacked against your own, the last thrust followed by one even deeper. You tried your best to take all of him, wanting to please him even if it was the last thing you did. 

Jaehyun slipped out of his own trance briefly enough to mention, “I didn’t wear a condom.”

“Just pull out,” you said, in no state of mind to give a damn. You liked the feeling of him fucking you nice and raw. 

“We’re definitely a pair of idiots.”

You snickered and found his hand, slipping your fingers through his. “You’re my idiot and I’m your idiot. That’s all that matters.”

Jaehyun smiled into the crook of your neck, eventually clamping his teeth there to conceal a moan at your expense. 

He lifted his head and drew back to admire the entire view, watching his cock disappear between your legs over and over again borderline obsessively. There was something about you that he would never get tired of. He liked holding you close and loving you hard. 

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Jaehyun exhaled, voice full of sincerity. And raw pleasure. 

You were burning up, withering heat blindsiding you. Jaehyun was making short work of you. It felt like love-making rather than plain old fucking, all things considered. Jaehyun’s gentle, steady pace as he whispered sweet little nothings in your ear, old school romance songs faded out in the background all the while. 

All you could focus on was Jaehyun. He was all you could hear, all you could feel. You were driven by the feeling of your walls garroting his size, the sounds of the little groans he couldn’t smother into your skin and his affectionate words urging you closer to climax. 

“Don’t hold back, baby,” you sighed, tightening your hold around his hand. It was a tiny, sweet gesture. “Please? I wanna hear you.”

Jaehyun obeyed you because there wasn’t a damn thing on this earth he wouldn’t do for you. You owned him and you knew it. 

Jaehyun swore when you clamped around his dick even harder. He watched your breasts bounce, your whole body unstill. Even your hands were scrambling, releasing him and now finding purchase in his back. “I love you,” he sighed, kneading your breasts. 

“I love you, too,” you moaned, feeling light as ever. He always took you to another dimension whenever you were together, but especially when he was fucking you within an inch of your life. 

I love you, too. Jaehyun was beaming. That was the first time he’d heard you say it in over a year and you had no idea how badly he needed to hear it again now. 

Jaehyun marked up your neck, leaving a trail of himself like souvenirs for you to remember in his absence. Your pulse thumped rapidly, your heart on the verge of tearing out of your chest, landing into his palms where it belonged. Now, your heartache was - at long last - soothed. 

There were no words to aptly describe your affection towards Jaehyun. Your love for him ran to an inexplicably deep extent with seemingly no end. It was all you could think about while he fucked you, how badly you needed him in your life. How the sensations he made you feel were irreplicable and you were content enough to simply be in his arms. 

Your lover never lasted very long when fucking you bare and raw and sensing himself approaching climax, Jaehyun brought his fingers to your clit, already swollen from release. A gasp tore from your throat when he fondled with the sensitive bundle of nerves, trying to facilitate an orgasm out of you. 

“Jaehyun,” you whined. You reached for his hand, sensitive. 

Jaehyun grabbed your hand with his spare one and slipped his fingers through again for you to squeeze. “It’s okay, my love. I want you to cum,” he said gently, biting your sweet spot. 

He was making short work of you. Your climax threatened to ensnare you with a force powerful enough to snap you in half. You needed it. More than anything, you needed it. 

You hauled your nails over his back, drawing long, red lines across the naked flesh. Jaehyun hissed darkly, pace quickening and coming even harder. You were driving him mad and vice versa. Your body had never been more confused than it was in that moment, barely willing itself to not writhe away but simultaneously matching his thrusts, wanting to build the pleasure yet somehow escape it all at once. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you warned in a impassioned chant, choking on your lack of breath. “I’m…” 

Your body quivered, release stealing the rest of your words before you could speak them. You found Jaehyun’s hand again, squeezing it for dear life. The orgasm was so heavy you almost collapsed in on yourself and Jaehyun. You were seeing white, burning red, emitting Jaehyun’s name in a sharp cry. 

Jaehyun felt you clenching around his cock with climax and immediately withdrew, knowing he would bust a nut inside you if he stayed a second longer. “Open your mouth,” Jaehyun told you, voice husky, thick with lust.  

It was almost enough to break you all over again. 

You did as instructed, no hesitation required. Jaehyun fitted his cock inside your mouth, moaning at how warm it was. You took him in, wanting to get him off and taste him dripping down your throat. 

When he saw you, cheeks hollowed with his rigid cock in your mouth, Jaehyun nearly came then and there. He fucked your mouth, guttural little praises dangling from his lips. 

Your thighs clenched tightly, hot sparks still aflame between. He got you riled up effortlessly, hardly ever needing to try. There was something about him that you were naturally attracted to, an unshakable kind of attraction. You couldn’t fathom why you couldn’t escape him, why your body and heart was seized by your lover. 

“So good,” Jaehyun grunted, pace accelerating. 

Jaehyun fucked your throat until he came, emptying his balls into your mouth at long last. Eagerly, you swallowed as much as you could, an amalgamation of his release and your saliva dribbling down your chin and onto your naked, heaving breasts. 

And the sight positively wrecked him. 

“Fuck,” you rasped, still registering what the hell had happened. 

Jaehyun’s eyes flashed with alarm. “Did I hurt you?” 

“No, it’s just that that’s the best sex I’ve had in a while.”

Jaehyun rolled his eyes and quipped, “That’s the only sex you’ve had in a while.”

“Still the best.”

Jaehyun laughed, eyes crinkling. “Round two?” 

“God, yes,” you groaned, still feeling unalloyed pleasure burning between your thighs. 

Jaehyun scooped your bare body into his arms again and carried you into his room, pressing the gentlest of kisses to your lips and neck all the while. 

You smiled to yourself in the morning when you roused, feeling Jaehyun’s arms still wrapped loosely around your waist. 

Everything had shifted then. Though you initially had plans of spending the holidays buried in work, you came to find that Jaehyun’s warm embrace was the greatest gift you could have asked for on Christmas day. There was none of the loneliness and dwelling you dreaded, only making brand new memories with the man you loved with your entire heart, mind and soul.

On Christmas day, you visited his mother’s house where his family had gathered, recognized familiar faces that were surprisingly all too glad to see you again. 

When Jaehyun’s mother opened the front door, you greeted bashfully, “Hi, Mrs. Jung.” 

“I knew we would meet again,” Mrs. Jung said softly, simpering in a self-satisfied manner. “Come in, dear. You’re always welcome in our home.”

You stepped inside the house, Jaehyun following suit once exchanging a silent, understanding glance with his mother. As always, she was right.

As you glanced around, nostalgia hit you tenfold. Everywhere you looked, there were memories of you and Jaehyun. You could see you both running up the stairs excitedly and Mrs. Jung scolding you about horse-playing indoors. When your eyes fell to the kitchen, you saw yourself joining the Jung’s for dinner, sitting directly beside your lover. 

Jaehyun leaned into your ear, given that seasonal music was blaring, and said, “I’m going to have a talk with my brother-in-law for a second. Be on your best behavior and don’t try to escape out a window. Old habits die hard.” 

You rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him. “Go. I’ll be right here,” you said, heart wrenching softly. 

Jaehyun snickered and slithered away. 

In his place came someone you were very familiar with. 

“Nostalgia?”

You whirled around, instantly recognizing the voice as Taeyong’s, one of Jaehyun’s many, many cousins. 

“I made a lot of memories here. I’ll never forget any of it,” you replied honestly. “Long time, no see.” 

Taeyong bobbed his head in agreement. “Definitely. I was scared that I’d never see you again.”

“Why is that?” Your curiosity was piqued. You never imagined Jaehyun’s family would anticipate meeting you once more. It was the stark opposite of your expectations. 

Taeyong leaned closer like he was telling you someone’s deepest, darkest secret, and whispered, “Between you and I, Jaehyun hasn’t been the same since the breakup. Not a happy camper. You were a part of his life for so long that we were all convinced he would never adjust to living one without you again.”

Visioning a morose, heartbroken Jaehyun made you frown. “I did that.”

“You absolutely did. You broke the poor guy’s heart and made him unbearable. He didn’t deserve that. And I didn’t deserve to have to put up with his insufferable ass,” Taeyong scoffed offhandedly, though you knew his words were lighthearted. “But you fixed it.”

“I guess I did that, too,” you exhaled contentedly, turning your head to spot Jaehyun chatting with his brother. That made you beam. Everything had fallen apart, shattered into pieces, but you were both willing to do the work and put them together. 

“He’s himself again,” Taeyong said, following your gaze. “Thank you for giving me my favorite cousin back.”

“I should have never taken him away in the first place.”

Taeyong gave you a playful, half-assed attempt at consoling, “Good people do bad things. We all fuck up. Just maybe not as badly as you.”

You nudged his side. 

He continued, turning somewhat sober, “He forgives you. But this won’t work out until you also forgive yourself.”

“You’re so young, but so wise,” you whispered, slightly touched. 

Taeyong snickered. “It runs in the family,” he said, patting your back before turning away. 

You merely stood there, rooted in place. Taeyong had given you something to muse on you. You realized a part of you was still clinging onto guilt, unable to rationalize your own decisions. You were so convinced that you were undeserving of Jaehyun’s love and courtesy that you had forgotten how to move on from your errors. 

It would be a process. But a step a day was better than none at all. 

You beamed when you noticed Jaehyun approaching you and he returned it, outstretching his hand and asking, “May I steal a dance?” 

“Of course,” you said, taking his hand in yours. 

Jaehyun brought you from the foyer to the living room where mainly everybody had gathered to dance, spinning you in his arms as holiday music filled the air. 

You swept some free strands of hair from his handsome face, admiring the view only a little higher up than you. Even in a room filled to the hilt with people, Jaehyun and Jaehyun alone was all you could see. Everyone else faded. It was only you and your lover, swaying to the rhythm of a seasonal song. 

“This feels like senior prom, but Christmas edition,” Jaehyun quipped.

You snickered delightfully. “I remember when we were announced prom king and queen. I like how nobody was surprised.”

You remembered it like it was yesterday. Jaehyun joined you for the first dance, gently whirling you around in front of several prying eyes, but you didn’t care. To you, the room was as good as empty. They were faceless, nameless people with no contribution or value, no relation to you and your blossoming romance with Jaehyun.

It was an experience you never knew you needed back then. Maybe in that moment, you knew it was fate. That one way or another, Jaehyun was inevitably the one you would grow old and gray-haired with. 

Even now, as you stared into his pretty brown eyes, you knew that this was the man you wanted a future with. 

Jaehyun glanced up and said, “Look.”

You did as told, smiling fondly as you noticed the mistletoe hanging above your heads. A part of you wondered if it was a coincidence or if he chose this spot deliberately. “I remember kissing you in front of everyone,” Jaehyun added, full of mischief. 

You played along and hummed, “I’m not sure if I recall. Care to remind me?”

Jaehyun didn’t waste a second to lock lips with you, tasting hot cocoa on your tongue. You could taste gingerbread on his and the thought made you giggle into his mouth. There was something about it - something about Jaehyun - that made every tiny thing mean a billion times more. 

All of the whimsical little things made your heart swell with happiness. 

“Yo, chill, you horn dogs. There’s children,” scolded Jaehyun’s other cousin Mark, covering his little cousin’s eyes. His family gave you a headache. Every time you learned them all, it was as if another cousin popped out of thin air. 

You and Jaehyun pulled away, snickering. You leaned on your toes, giving his lips one final peck before deciding you’d had your fill. 

Days of being Jaehyun’s again turned into some of the happiest months of your life. You were letting go of some of your old habits and setting some past trauma free. There were a handful of grim times, but you both made the effort to repair things before they spiraled out of control. 

Excuses had run their course. Jaehyun would ask you on dates and you’d agree more, overworking yourself less. Until now, you never realized that putting some distance between yourself and the stresses of work was what it took to be happier. You had made the earth-shattering mistake of convincing yourself that hard work equated happiness. 

The two of you agreed to take things slow, afraid rushing would land you in an achingly familiar predicament, but you couldn’t deny that things had been speeding up. And Jaehyun already knew that it would forever be you. 

It was another long, brutal day of work and nothing was out of the ordinary. You were running across the office, balancing direct orders on top of your daily tasks. You needed six skins to have a job like this. Three to balance the roles of multiple people and another three to endure the wear and tear. 

Ten, your favorite co-worker, tracked you down and stopped you dead in your tracks to say, “Hey, slow down a second. Someone’s here to see you.”

You did the opposite of slowing down, still walking and as he followed you, said, “Tell them I’m taking a sick day, would you? Thanks, Tennie.” 

“I don’t think so,” Ten said, donning an amused look. Which successfully made you pause in confusion. Usually, Ten never hesitated to cover for you. “You’re going to want to hear what this guy has to say. I swear.” 

Very reluctantly, you agreed to follow Ten, curiosity piqued as you wondered who in the hell would dare interrupt you in the middle of a swift-paced work day. 

Jung Jaehyun. That was who. 

You made a face of confusion when you saw him there, smiling at you like an idiot. Confused, you asked, “Jay, you couldn’t text or call?” 

“What I’m about to do is a bit difficult to do over the phone,” Jaehyun retorted, admiring your state of obliviousness. 

You huffed, “What are you…” 

You cut yourself off when you noticed one of the staff hand Jaehyun a tiny box and he proceeded to crouch on one knee. The realization made your heart thud, pulse quickening. 

Jaehyun started, “Baby, I’ve been racking my brain trying to think of how to say this. I had to have tried to practice this a million times before I decided to talk to you from my heart.”

Your co-workers all gathered around, and you noticed even your boss observing from the corner of your eyes, but your gaze was locked on Jaehyun and no one but. 

Your lover fought his nerves and added, “We met when we were in high school. I remember it like it was yesterday. We were so young, dumb, and drunk off learning what true love was for the first time. We couldn’t resist each other.” 

The memories made your heart melt, taut with ecstasy. 

“Then, we got older. And things got more complicated, but in spite of that, we never stopped loving each other. Not for a second,” Jaehyun declared, impassioned. “I’ve been in love with you for so long that I can’t imagine my life any other way. No matter what has changed between us.”

Jaehyun was staring you dead in the eyes, watching your face melt with awe. It gave him all the courage he needed. 

“You made it so easy to fall in love with you but so hard to fall back out. And I don’t want to. I adore you, my love. Thoughts of you keep me up and night, restless. You make me crazy.”

Your eyes burned, fighting an oncoming threat of tears with every passing word. Jaehyun had swept you off your feet, making you feel emotions you never knew existed. 

“I know we’ve been through thick and thin, baby. But we were there for each other. And even when we separated, we found our way right back into each other’s arms,” your lover added. 

You wanted to pinch yourself, determine if you were dreaming. Even though Jaehyun had proposed once to you before, you would never get used to the wave of emotion that plagued you, rendering you soft and full of glee. 

“I didn’t know what love was until I fell for you. You’re my first love and all these years by your side have only solidified my courage that I want you to be my last. You are the only woman on this earth I can imagine a future with and if it’s not you, then I know there’s nobody else out there for me.”

Ten was smartly grabbing a box of tissues for safe measure.

Jaehyun’s voice got softer, “Let’s try again, my love. Let’s do this one more time - one last time. Will you marry me?” 

Now, you had the spotlight. Ten was none too subtly mouthing, “Say ‘yes.’” Everybody was anticipating your reaction and you wondered exactly how long in advance everyone had been in on this little surprise except for you. 

There was no hesitation and you practically screamed as you chanted, “Yes!”

Jaehyun, much like the last time he proposed to you, swept you into his arms and kissed you to death, effectively silencing you. The room erupted in cheer. Everybody was glad to get a break from their tedious jobs and witness a moment as beautiful as this one. 

The champagne was already popping. Your fiancé whirled you in your arms and you told him affectionately, “I love you.”

“Say it again,” Jaehyun said, incapable of getting enough. 

“I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you so much that I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“Let me love you,” your fiancé said, staring at you like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. And you were. “That’s all you have to do.”

You smiled, pretending to mull it over. “I think I can let that happen.”

Jaehyun was over the moon. There were no words to describe how ecstatic he was. He missed this feeling and he was more than glad that it had returned. “Merry Christmas,” he said playfully. 

“Jaehyun, it is literally the end of February. You wished me Happy Valentines Day after fucking my brains out on your birthday,” you replied, rolling your eyes. 

“Still,” your fiancé said, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips and cheesing at the memory of fucking you raw again. “Marrying you is the best gift I could ever ask for.”

You smiled in agreement. And fought a smirk as you remembered you had your own little surprise for your betrothed, waiting for you at home on the bathroom counter. 

Jesus Christ, you were going to need a bigger place to stay.

[tyonfs]

stargirl interlude

PAIRING ▸ na jaemin x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, influencer au, strangers to lovers

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, mc and her friends are a little shallow, tbh i wrote this because of jaemin’s tits, dirty talk, sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), kitchen sex, oral (m. receiving), oral (f. receiving), lowkey dumbification, body worship, ft. one night stand with jeno 

SUMMARY ▸ and i shouldn't cry, but I love it, starboy / i just wanna see you shine 'cause i know you are a stargirl

PLAYLIST ▸ stargirl interlude by the weeknd, lana del rey • alien superstar by beyoncé

WORD COUNT ▸ 5.9k words

TAG LIST ▸ @leeknowsredeyeliner​ @geniejunn​ @sehunniepot​ @jjaeyoonoh​ @subhyuck​ @jenoluuvvs​ @jaemboi64​ @otchae​ @n0hyuck​ @hyuckinx​ @domhyuckie​ @justhereforimagines​ @daegalfangirl​ @soobin-chois​ @lmkworld​ @baekhyuns-lipchain​ @its-taeil-time​ @produmads​ @kaislinging-slasher01​ @neomorning​ @learnthisfeeling​ @glitching-wren​ @carelessshootanonymous​ @thiccfullsun​  

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ jaemin is finally not an asshole. everybody say congrats jaemin.

THE WALK OF SHAME.

The distance from Lee Jeno’s apartment to yours was approximately 0.6 miles. If you walked fast enough, it would take you around ten minutes to get back home. Meaning, that was ten minutes spent doing the Walk of Shame at nearly three in the morning.

Of course, the whole point of being an e-girl was to keep up an unattainable internet persona. You wanted to be a star, and what better way than to weaponize your good looks? Your entire brand was posting revealing pictures of yourself on Instagram and Twitter, maintaining a “gamer girl” image. Sort of like Belle Delphine, but you hadn’t stooped low enough to start selling your bathwater to strangers on the internet. You were a lone flower on the edge of a cliff—so high up that no one could reach for your stem.

Except Jeno, apparently, after you caved and met him in person tonight.

You and Jeno followed each other on Twitter a few months ago. Despite attending the same college, you two hadn’t ever met in person before. He was a popular YouTuber, so there had been rumors flying around about his sudden interactions with you. Your influencer friends were trying to grill you for more information, but you sincerely had no idea where Jeno’s sudden interest in you came from. After you posted a picture of you in pink lace lingerie complete with Hello Kitty clips and pigtails, Jeno had finally slid into your DMs.

jeno: i’d rather spend the night with you

(In response to the caption on your post: spend the day with me?)

As one would expect, things escalated from there. Jeno was hot, you were horny, and he conveniently lived 0.6 miles away from you.

In short, you got good dick. Jeno started with one hand wrapped around your neck and the other snaking its way between your legs. You were satisfied, especially because the streamer didn’t try to dap you up after railing you on his gaming chair, the wall, and then his bed. You two made some small talk afterward, and then you headed home. Prince Charming could not be fucked to give you a generous ride back to your apartment.

You pulled out your phone to look at your face in the camera app. As expected, you were a mess, but you touched up your lipstick and blush with the few makeup products you stuffed in your purse. Then, you called your best friend, Lee Donghyuck, who had been flooding your friend group’s group chat with messages for the past hour.

“Dude,” you started as soon as he picked up. Donghyuck was in the middle of taking his headphones off to put his AirPods in, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Jeno walked me to the door and made me walk home by myself.”

“No fucking way.” Donghyuck laughed. “That’s what you get for hooking up with a guy who plays Val.”

Ah, yes. Featured on Jeno’s YouTube: streams of Valorant, League of Legends, and Overwatch. There were the occasional indie games he was requested to play, too. The only one you semi-watched and commented on was Little Nightmares.

“The dick was incredible,” you told your best friend, “but he’s not cuffing material.”

“Not like you care about cuffing anyone.”

“Yes, I do!” you objected. “I’m boyfriend-hunting, Hyuck. Think about how much attention I’d get if I started dating a hotshot influencer.”

“You should date Mark Lee, then. Everyone’s thirsting over those e-boy TikTokers now. Or maybe Liu YangYang. Heard his body count’s high as fuck.”

You rolled your eyes. “His body count’s high because no one goes back a second time. Plus, I think YangYang’s finally in the talking stage with someone.”

“Good for him.” Donghyuck yawned. “Anyway, I’m going to bed soon since I finished editing my Maldives vlog. I’m still pissed you didn’t come with us.”

You rolled your eyes. Donghyuck, Yoo Jimin, Choi Beomgyu, and Uchinaga Aeri had been giving you shit for backing out on the trip the five of you had been discussing for a few months. There were just too many things going on in your life at the time, so you told them you wouldn’t be able to make it before tickets were purchased. Of course, your absence made several of your followers question if your friend group had a falling out, but you all decided not to address pointless rumors.

“I’ll come along next time when I’m not broke,” you assured. “I’m at my apartment now, so I’ll talk to you later. Bye-bye, Hyuck.”

Donghyuck threw up a peace sign before hanging up. You tucked your phone in your back pocket as you tried to fish out your key card from your purse.

However, there was a problem: it was missing.

“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself, sitting down at one of the benches outside to dig through your purse. You swore you hadn’t taken it out, so it definitely wasn’t at Jeno’s place. The only possible explanation was that you dropped it on the way or left it inside your apartment.

Screw these auto-locking doors.

You were royally screwed.

Fast-forward to twenty minutes later. You were still sitting at the same bench. This time, your head was in your hands and you were shivering like a chihuahua. It was dark, save for the flickering streetlight above you. You had even resorted to texting Jeno, asking him if you could go back to his place and spend the night. It was downright embarrassing, but it was your last resort. Jeno, however, seemed to have been asleep due to his lack of response.

A guardian angel was sent your way, though, in the form of a cute but tired-looking college student with a bag of groceries in hand. Kind eyes, but he looked far too exhausted to smile genuinely.

“Do you need to be let in?” the boy asked, gesturing toward the apartment entrance. He had his key card in hand, and you nearly jumped to your feet.

“Uh, yeah, but…” you trailed off. Even if you accepted his offer, you wouldn’t be able to get into your own room.

He handed you his brown Essentials hoodie he had draped around across his shoulders. “Cold?”

You wondered if your shivering or hard nipples gave it away. Surely, it had to be your nipples showing through the skimpy one-piece you had on. You never would have dressed like this if you knew Jeno was going to make you walk home yourself.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, taking the hoodie from him and slipping it on. It fell past your thigh and smelled good—a non-offending mix of pine and detergent. “Uh, but even if you let me in, I can’t get into my room. I lost my key.”

“Oh.”

You folded your arms across your chest. The boy beside you ruffled his fluffy brown hair, and you were wondering why he hadn’t gone inside the building yet. Maybe he was waiting for you to find some other place to go, or maybe he wanted his hoodie back.

“Have you tried asking the RA?” he asked.

“I can only get a card replacement in the morning.”

“Can your roommate open the door?”

“Don’t have one.”

“Got a friend who’ll let you stay at their place?”

“Asleep.”

“Significant other?”

“I’m single and my dick appointment made me walk home alone.”

You didn’t realize how bitter you sounded until you saw the shocked look drawn across the boy’s face. You felt sorry for dumping that on him, but you were getting way too frustrated about your lack of options. You didn’t even have a roommate you could call for help since you opted for a single.

He cleared his throat before shyly offering, “Uh… I guess you could stay at my place for the night, if you want. I can sleep on the couch.”

Your cheeks heated up. You were no stranger to random kindness from men, but perhaps you were just grateful for his proposition since you were running low on options.

“That’d be great,” you said. “Thanks.”

You followed the boy into the apartment building. He introduced himself as Na Jaemin, an animal science major in your same year who was president of a club that raised guide dogs for blind people. It was comforting to hear, so your anxiousness over this stranger luring you in to murder you in cold blood was slowly letting up.

He unlocked the door for you, letting you into his apartment first. You looked around to see a quite ordinary looking living space with a few posters and polaroids hung up on the walls. There was a border collie curled up in a dog bed in the corner of the living room, and Jaemin was being extra careful to make sure he didn’t accidentally wake him up.

He set the plastic bag down, which you found out was dog food that he picked up from a friend. It definitely made a lot more sense than him shopping for groceries at three in the morning.

“You live alone?” you asked for the sake of making small talk.

“My roommate graduated a semester early,” he replied. “I’ve been living on my own, just like you.”

“Doesn’t it get lonely?”

He turned the question back to you, asking, “Do you get lonely?”

You shrugged as you sat down on his couch, sitting stiffly at the edge of the cushion. “When you get so much attention online, you kind of need the privacy.”

“Oh, I see.”

No more questions asked.

Jaemin retreated into his room for a moment before returning with a pillow and blanket in hand. He tossed them beside you on the couch and met your gaze.

“Bed’s ready for you whenever,” he said. “The bathroom’s inside my room, if you need to use the shower or anything. Let me know if you need any clothes to sleep in.”

Your face was heating up like a furnace, but you were glad he couldn’t see how his words were affecting you. You flushed with embarrassment when you noticed Jaemin’s eyes flicker past your neck. He probably thought his gaze went undetected, but you noticed. Suddenly, all you wanted to do was pull his hoodie high enough so that the hood hid the hickies Jeno left across your skin.

“I can just use your hoodie,” you replied. “Thanks.”

Jaemin managed a small, tired smile. You took that as your cue to get out of the living room so that he could pass out in peace. So, you headed into his bedroom and stared at his tidy bed, wondering if he had frantically fixed his sheets for you.

Since you already felt like you had asked for too much, you decided to skip your nightly shower and head straight to bed. It was hard to sleep in a stranger’s bed, though—no matter how pretty he was.

You were used to kindness. It normally came in a package deal with being attractive. Bees flocked to honey; humans flocked to beauty.

This feeling, however, wasn’t something you were used to. Genuine kindness with no ulterior motive was almost foreign, which was upsetting to admit. You weren’t sure how to sort out your feelings, but all you knew was that Jaemin’s eyes had stars in them, and you were tempted to lose yourself in them.

You woke up to an empty house.

Even the dog had abandoned you.

To be fair, you weren’t exactly an early bird. You woke up at around 10:30 a.m. naturally, and then spent an extra thirty minutes trying to muster up the willpower to get out of bed. Of course, you spent that time updating your group chat on your whereabouts.

gigi: 15k isn’t that insane?

gyu: holy shit gyu: you have to do it

karibear: gigi i will literally kill you and then resurrect you to kill you again if you don’t

gigi: check out the deliverables tho gigi: [File Attachment]

hyuck: instagram story highlight? the fuck? hyuck: a tiktok should be enough. more people check tiktok than ig now anyways lol

gigi: right???

karibear: OK BUT FIFTEEN THOUSAND DOLLARS

y/n: just caught up. I think you should do it for the $$ gigi

gigi: GIRL where have u been

gyu: i told you she probably overslept

gigi: BUT I SEE HER LOCATION ON FINDMYFRIENDS gigi: SHE IS NOT HOME

y/n: i may or may not be in a cute guy’s apartment

karibear: shut the fuck up

y/n: stop he’s REALLY cute y/n: dare i say cuter than jeno

hyuck: stfu ur kidding

gyu: well?? did you sleep with him? gyu: give us all the details

y/n: no i couldn’t find my key after coming back from jeno’s and was locked out of my apartment y/n: so this “na jaemin” appears and lets me sleep over at his place for the night  y/n: he took the couch AND let me sleep on his bed y/n: jeno could never

gyu: aww that’s actually rlly sweet

gigi: can’t find him on ig ://

karibear: no social media presence?? karibear: idk if that’s hot or a red flag

hyuck: probably both 💀

y/n: um good thing red’s my favorite color

karibear: omfg karibear: do u actually wanna fuck him karibear: send us a picture of what he looks like

y/n: idk if he’s even interested in me like that y/n: but idk i also want my internet famous trophy boyfriend :( y/n: idk if this guy even has a social media presence  y/n: still a starboy in my heart tho <3

hyuck: keep your eye on the prize bbyg hyuck: fame is fleeting so milk it while you can

You figured Donghyuck had a point. You were an internet celebrity (to some extent), so, in terms of marketing, it would be wise to push the “unattainable” image you cemented. Dating someone equally as unattainable would make you look even more desirable.

However, you were starting to lose all rhyme and reason when you walked out of the bedroom to see a plate of eggs and toast waiting for you on the kitchen counter.

A post-it note was right next to it, reading: I’m out walking the dog. I made you some breakfast if you’re hungry but you don’t have to eat it. Door auto locks so just make sure you close it whenever you leave. Here’s my phone number if you need anything. +82 x-xxxx-xxxx - Jaemin

You decided to update your group chat.

y/n: change of plans y/n: i’m making starboy mine

When Jaemin returned home shortly after you discovered his note, you were sitting on his couch, knees tucked to your chest as you forked down the waffles he made. Before you even looked up to greet him, you heard his dog yapping excitedly, hurrying over to sniff you.

“Oh, you’re still here.” He looked genuinely surprised, though he didn’t object. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, really well,” you admitted. Curious, you tilted your head and let your lips curl into a knowing smile. “Are you high?”

Jaemin stiffened up. “Uh, a little. Is it that obvious?”

“I just noticed your eyes look sort of dazed.”

You hadn’t expected it, but he almost sounded embarrassed to be caught. “I’m not like a… a full-on stoner or anything.”

“Hey, no judgment,” you replied, holding up your hands in surrender. “I was just gonna ask if I could get high with you, too.”

After visibly relaxing, a more confident grin dawned on Jaemin’s face as he handed you his pen. You couldn’t help but feel smug as you accepted it gingerly.

About a couple hours later, you and Jaemin were blazed out of your minds. He had offered you an edible shortly after you took a hit from his pen, and it kicked in an hour later for you and Jaemin. There were no words exchanged for a while, but then you two started to converse, although you couldn’t trust that anything you were saying made sense.

You weren’t big on flirting. It was a skill you only put to use when absolutely needed, and this was one of those instances. You figured this was the perfect opportunity to get close to Jaemin. Even though you could tell he was a really, really great guy, and you didn’t want to rush things with Jaemin, there were a few factors that were making you throw your morals to the wind.

For one, you were high and getting incredibly horny.

The other factor was that Jaemin was the hottest man you had ever seen (and you had encountered a lot of attractive men).

“So,” he started, “you’re, like, an internet celebrity? Like a TikToker?”

“I started on Twitter,” you explained, “but, yeah, I’m famous on TikTok, too. But there’s a good chance you’ve never heard of me.”

“Really? Why?”

“I’m known for more, uh”—you let out a nervous giggle—“risqué stuff, if you wanna see.” When he nodded eagerly, you took out your phone and opened Twitter to show Jaemin your account. Right off the bat, there was a mirror selfie of you in lingerie and cat ears. Because you were feeling bold, you added, “And the guy who made me walk home alone? He’s a famous YouTuber named Jeno.”

Something seemed to click for Jaemin when you mentioned Jeno’s name because it was the only thing that snapped him out of whatever trance he was in. He had been looking at the photo of you so intently that you were wondering if he was checking you out or spacing out.

“I think I’ve watched some of his gaming videos,” he said before handing your phone back to you. “He just… kicked you out?”

“Pretty much. At least he made me cum once.”

“Just once?”

You held your breath for a moment. With those two words, Jaemin made the atmosphere all the more tense, and you felt like you two were suspended in time. Although you weren’t sure if he said that to challenge Jeno or not, there was still a strange implication in his words. It left you wondering if Jaemin could treat you better.

“Yeah,” you replied in a quieter voice. “Just once. With my help, too.”

“That’s fucked.” Jaemin reached for his pen to take a long, slow drag. He held it in his lungs for a moment before he parted his lips to blow the smoke out. “And you dressed up so pretty for him.”

Either Jaemin was a secret dark horse when it came to smooth talking or the weed was making him horny, too. Whatever it was, his comments made your cheeks burn.

“I bet he’d be pissed if he found out I ended up in your bed after.”

The animal science major flushed at your words, growing even more shy when you giggled at his reaction. “I mean, I guess so, but we didn’t, like… I mean, we—”

“I was kidding,” you assured. “Don’t worry. I wouldn’t say that unless something actually happened.”

Jaemin nodded quietly, falling back into silence for a while. You were worried that you had made the conversation awkward, so you sunk back against the couch and willed yourself to come down from your high. Maybe the weed was a bad idea. Maybe you were just getting ahead of—

“So, you wouldn’t be opposed if something were to happen?”

The question took you off-guard, and you had to process Jaemin’s words for a few moments before you sat up to look at him. There was no shame or shyness drawn across his face this time. Just pure curiosity. (And perhaps a hint of longing which was most likely brought on by the weed.)

You shook your head with a hum. “No, I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I think you’re cute. You seem really sweet, too, like letting me sleep over and making me breakfast.”

Jaemin smiled brightly, beaming ear to ear before he ducked his head shyly. You were surprised that he was so sheepish given his godsent looks. He had to have heard these compliments about a million times now. There was no way you were the first person to recognize his looks.

“I’m not good at this,” he admitted.

“Good at what?”

“Um, hitting on girls,” Jaemin said. His hand flew to rub the back of his neck as he added, “Cute girls.” After another beat, he let his head hang and then let out a groan. “Sorry, I don’t have a filter when I’m high.”

“Jaemin,” you cooed, scooting close enough so that your knees were touching. You placed your hand on his thigh, which made him finally look you in the eyes. “I’m pretty bad at flirting, too, so I hope this is working.”

The corner of his lip hitched up, amused. “Yeah,” Jaemin murmured, his eyes unfocusing as he leaned in close, “it’s definitely working.”

Your nose brushed against his experimentally before Jaemin pressed his lips to yours. It was gentle and innocent, but then Jaemin turned his body to face yours, and his hands started roaming your body. Your waist, your back, your hips—not an inch was neglected while he felt you up. You let slip a hum of delight, and that encouraged Jaemin to slip his tongue past your lips.

He didn’t use too much tongue, which you appreciated. There was something too sloppy about guys who used too much tongue, but Jaemin had an excellent balance between precise and hasty. And he did this thing where he would pause to suck on your tongue and then your bottom lip, which you really appreciated.

You let a whine slip, and Jaemin gripped your waist tighter. You figured he wanted you on his lap, so you threw one leg over his thigh and straddled him. It was like you were in a trance with how receptive you were, and you only wanted more when Jaemin pulled away to kiss down your neck. After minutes of nipping, sucking, and relishing your whimpers, he was satisfied with the bruises littered across your skin.

Jaemin seemed frustrated by how big his hoodie was on you, so he tugged at it until you pulled it up and over your head. After discarding it to the side, his lips found yours immediately after. The pads of his fingers slipped past the hem of your shirt to dig into your skin, pulling you flush against his body.

You were sure you could kiss him for hours, but your attention was slipping away when you felt his boner underneath you. The very least you could do was offer to help him out.

You pulled away to catch your breath, and your voice was no louder than a breath when you offered, “Let me suck you off.”

Jaemin blushed a little, and you bit back a smile because how could someone be so forward and cute? He was not innocent in the slightest, but he somehow got flustered so easily.

His voice came out strangled when he said, “Please.”

You carefully peeled off Jaemin’s shirt, admiring his muscles as you revealed his bare skin. He had to work out regularly to get a build this good, but you didn’t expect him to be this ripped. It was almost second nature when you started kissing down his chest, smiling when you heard his happy sigh.

When your kisses reached his stomach, you started tugging at the band of his sweatpants. Jaemin carded his fingers through your hair to keep you where he wanted to, and you were pretty sure all his blood was rushing to his cock with how much bigger he got. You tugged his sweatpants down to his knees and kissed up his strong thigh, looking up at him through your lashes. You wanted Jaemin to know just how drunk you were on his body.

Jaemin helped you tug down his boxers, too, and you swallowed hard when you saw how huge he was. His cock sprung up, and you were almost worried that you wouldn’t be able to take all of him in. While you were tying up your hair, Jaemin gave his shaft a few pumps, rubbing his thumb across the precum that beaded his slit.

A few strands of your hair got in your face, so Jaemin brushed them back and held your hair in his fist, undoing your ponytail so that he could tie back your hair properly. He looked down at you expectantly, cradling your jaw while you were mentally preparing yourself to take him. You flattened your tongue and ran it along the side of his cock, licking right where his vein was. Jaemin let out a groan almost instantly, and you looked up to see his eyes burning molten hot with desire.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he growled, gripping the back of your head.

His cock was throbbing, aching for you to take more of him in. So you slid your tongue over his head before hollowing your cheeks to suck him in. Jaemin gritted his teeth and tilted his head back, muttering some profanity that only encouraged you further.

You went slow at first, drawing out each bob of your head so that you got used to his size. You couldn’t go all the way down on him without his head hitting the back of your throat, making you gag a little before you started to properly take him down your throat. Jaemin started thrusting his hips into your mouth, urging you to go faster. You weren’t sure if that meant he was going to cum soon, but you sped up regardless.

“Fuck,” Jaemin rasped out, watching you with absolute admiration in his blown-out eyes, “I’m gonna cum.”

His grip on your hair loosened, as if he was ready to let you pull off of him, but you looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes while you sucked harder. You wanted him to cum in your mouth, and he seemed to get the message because his moan was cut off by his orgasm.

You continued to suck on his cock while he came, swallowing without hesitation. Jaemin thrusted shallowly inside your mouth, his husky moans making you pull off him to lick a long stripe down his length.

The two of you just stared at each other for a moment, catching your breaths and watching each other’s chest rise and fall. Then, Jaemin leaned in to cup your cheek and kiss you once more. He didn’t even care that he was tasting himself on your lips, but he just needed more of you.

“Let me return the favor,” he said once he pulled away. Before you could respond, Jaemin scooped you up in his strong arms. You held onto his biceps, gasping when he held your bottom firmly. “I promise I’ll make you feel really good.”

Jaemin set you on the cool granite surface of the kitchen counter, and you were glad that he kept the place clean. You would have felt gross if it was any other man, like Jeno’s grimey kitchen counter littered with dirty dishes, but you were too wrapped up in your own lust to care about moving to Jaemin’s bed.

Being high made you so sensitive that every touch from Jaemin left you trembling. As he undressed you, you couldn’t help but shudder and gasp whenever his fingers brushed over a sensitive area. He seemed to take notice, which you observed by his small smirk. As soon as Jaemin got rid of your garments, leaving you naked, he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Gorgeous,” he praised, leaning forward to take your nipple in his mouth. He sucked on the supple skin eagerly, making you moan and grab at his shoulder.

You let out a gasp when Jaemin grabbed your other breast in his hand, squeezing firmly and running his thumb along the nipple. After he decided he showed your chest enough attention, Jaemin started kissing down your stomach until he reached the apex of your thighs. He trailed kisses along your pelvis, peppering more along the top of your thighs, and you used your elbows to balance your weight on the counter. You were surely going to collapse if he kept going.

“Jaem,” you whined, “don’t tease.”

He smirked as he parted your legs even further, humming inquisitively at the sight of your soaked cunt. He lifted both of your legs and settled them on each of his shoulders, and you sucked in a sharp breath to prepare yourself.

Jaemin dipped his head and ran his flattened tongue along your folds, and god, you were floating high up in the clouds.

After some strokes of his tongue, Jaemin stiffened his tongue to lick deeper, parting your slit so that he could ravage your cunt. You couldn’t do anything but cry out his name, begging for more and more. Your engorged clit was soon aching for attention, and you became a complete mess as soon as Jaemin’s lips found your little ball of nerves.

Soon, Jaemin was holding your hips down as he ate you out like a man starved. You had never experienced pleasure so intense, and you were finding it hard to believe that the meek boy you met last night was this bold. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer even though his face was practically wet with your arousal.

“I-I’m close,” you breathed out, and your hips were struggling to grind down to meet Jaemin’s tongue. You wanted more—no, you needed more.

“I know,” he whispered against your thigh, and before you could beg, he snaked his tongue in your entrance, allowing your walls to clench and unclench around his hot muscle.

He used his fingers to rub your clit in small, tight circles, all the while eating you out so vigorously that you couldn’t even think about anything except Jaemin. How good he made you feel. How lucky you were to be under him.

You were drowning soon after—drowning in utmost bliss. A toe-curling orgasm shook your body, leaving your back arching against the kitchen counter. You couldn’t even process how loud your moan was until Jaemin was shushing you gently, abusing your clit throughout your orgasm while his other hand was clamped over your mouth.

“Shh,” he cooed, almost mocking you. “The walls are thin, doll.”

You nodded, looking up at him with glazed-over eyes. You just needed to focus on anything to keep you at bay, to keep you from being pulled under the current of your climax.

“Gonna carry you to the bed, okay?” he told you, and you nodded without a second thought, letting him princess carry you to his bedroom.

As soon as he laid you down gently, Jaemin leveled his cock at your entrance, running his head along the folds of your cunt. You were already exhausted from your previous orgasm, but you were still eager to feel Jaemin inside of you.

“I’ll go slow,” he assured, teasing the tip of his cock inside you so gently that you were about to fall apart. You had no more than an inch inside of you, and your walls were already clenching hard around him.

Your eyes rolled back when he pushed deeper inside you, and then soon he was bottoming out, and you could feel his thighs pressed against yours. The cry that left your lips and the groan that escaped his nearly sounded like a melody in your eyes. Each wave of pleasure made you feel like you were traveling light years past several galaxies. Stars pinpricked your vision, but you could make out Jaemin’s face among the collisions of supernovas.  

“I can’t,” you whimpered, unable to form proper, coherent sentences. “Fast—go faster.”

Something primal glinted in Jaemin’s dark eyes, and started ramming into you while holding your hips tight. His head dipped to ravage your neck, kissing and sucking as he pleased while his cock hit that perfect spot that made you see white spots in your vision. You felt a ripple of pleasure shoot under your skin.

And something else must have snapped in Jaemin because he started spewing absolute filth in your ears, and lord, was it making you lose your mind.

“I’m the best you’ve had, aren’t I?” he asked with brimming confidence, opting for sharp and precise thrusts.

You half-nodded, your cheek pressing against the pillow as your nails raked down Jaemin’s back. But Jaemin didn’t appreciate your lack of words.

“Come on, Y/N,” he pressed, “say it.” He pressed his lips to your ear and nibbled on the shell. You squirmed when you felt his hot breath fan your neck. “C’mon, I haven’t fucked you dumb already, right?”

You managed to cry out, “Y-yes, Jaemin! I’ve… I’ve never felt this good.”

He cupped your cheek and rubbed gently with his thumb, smiling down at you so kindly that it felt condescending. “Yeah? You gonna cum for me, then?”

You felt those ripples of pleasure intensify, and soon they were rising to a crescendo. You felt like you were being split apart on Jaemin’s cock, and it didn’t help that he refused to slow down before you orgasmed. You bucked your hips against him, eager to chase the pleasure that was just in your reach.

And, after Jaemin pressed his lips against yours, all of the stars in the night sky collided and exploded into nothingness.

You felt your orgasm tear through you, immobilizing you with blinding pleasure. You gasped and gripped the sheets tightly, praying that you could hold on for dear life. Jaemin slowly fucked you through your orgasm, your clenching walls bringing him to pull out of you and let his cum spill onto your stomach.

Jaemin let out a shaky sigh of contentment, and he quickly returned to your side without giving himself time to recover. Instead of basking in post orgasm glow, Jaemin aided your ongoing climax by rubbing your clit in slow, torturous circles.

“I got you,” he crooned, pressing gentle kisses to your cheeks. “I got you, doll.”

You were a whimpering, moaning mess underneath him, and you couldn’t think of anything but Jaemin as you writhed. After a few more aftershocks of pleasure (all thanks to Jaemin, of course), you finally started returning to your senses. It was possible that Jaemin had actually fucked you dumb.

He hurried to his feet to clean you up. It was a stark contrast from how he acted in bed, but your heart melted when he made sure you got enough water before he tucked you in bed. No guy had ever taken his time with aftercare for you, so you were starting to feel like being kicked out of Jeno’s apartment was a stroke of luck.

Later, he moved to lay down next to you, kissing the top of your head as he slid in. You wrapped your arm around him and you two were eventually a mess of tangled limbs.

“Can I stay?” you asked, somewhat nervous that he would ask you to leave soon.

“Of course,” he replied, easing your nerves with a gentle smile, “you can stay for as long as you want.” You cuddled close to him, burying your face into his chest, and then you heard him ask, “How do you feel?”

You smiled. “Like a star.”

[eomayas]

exo masterlist

key: smut (s), suggestive (sg), fluff (f), angst (a), request (r), complete (c) [for series], popular(🌷), personal favorite (🌹)

EXO

— airport dads

— sugar daddy line

— exo when angry | r

— exo simping | sg 🌷

— jealous exo

— pda

— being shipped with another idol | r

kim minseok

— best friend | f

— in the morning | s, f, r 🌹

kim junmyeon

— sneakin’ | s, a

— nip slip | s 🌷

— testy | s 🌹

— handsome stranger | f

— strictly business | s, r 🌹

— yours | f, a, r

— wants & needs | s, f, r

byun baekhyun

— baby blues | f, a, r

— unplanned | a, r

— besos | f, r

— frisky | sg, r 🌹

— baby blues (vol. 2) | f, a, r

— soft side | f, r

— the bodyguard | f, a, r

— broken promises | a, r

— (computer) games | f, r

— cream soda | s, f, r 🌷

— all the rumors are true | f, a 🌷🌹

— closure | s, a

— fantasy | sg, a, f

kim jongdae

— coming soon

park chanyeol

— back 2 u | a, sg, r

— new thing (series) | s, f, a, c

— rainy day | s, r

— call me what you want, when you want, if you want | a, f, r

do kyungsoo

— make it up to you | s 🌹

— caught in the act | s, f 🌷🌹

— amore | f

— tender love | f, r

— ninety | a, f

— interruptions | f, sg 🌹

— swervin | s

kim jongin

— d appointment | s, f

— confessions | f, a (sequel to d appointment)

— friendly competition | f

— take a break | f, r

oh sehun

— 10:07 pm | s

— firsts | s, f, r

[baekhyunsbestie]

──★ ALL MINE ˙🌷͙֒ ̟ !!

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 sum: it's been months since you cut ties with your bff-turned-fwb. now, you’re stuck with a new guy who’s a total fucking letdown in the bedroom. but there’s no way you’re telling your bestie baekhyun that embarrassing detail, right? WRONG. you guys share everything. and of course, baekhyun won't stop teasing you about it—especially after another disastrous date. just when you've hit your limit, you come home to find him rummaging through the pantry, snacking like he runs the place. but don't worry, he's here to make it up to you!!!!! and by "make it up to you," i mean help release all of your pent-up sexual frustration, because that's what besties do, right? …right?!

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 content: 18+/MDNI. 8.5k+ words. baekhyun x f!reader. no specified age, but i'd say they're somewhere in their early-to-mid 20’s cus i can only imagine people w/o fully developed frontal lobes behaving this way, respectfully 😭🙂‍↕️ bff's to fwb's to bff's again to strangers to lovers. fluff, angst, and it ain’t a baekhyunsbestie fic if it don’t got some good ol’ nasty smuuuttttt. pet names, praise kink, cheating, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie after creampie after creampie (baekhyun deffo has breeder balls, don’t @ me), overstimulation (both f + m). you both are just two big meanie idiots who are in love with each other.

your phone lights up with a ping, the glow illuminating your face as baekhyun’s text pops up on the screen: 

✶bestie baekhyun!!!✶

aaawwww, is that your little boyfriend who can’t make you cum??? you guys are so cute together!

attached is a screenshot of your recent instagram story— you and your latest fling cozied up at a movie date earlier this evening. a date that ended with you unsatisfied, yet again. 

your gaze drifts across the room. baekhyun, lounging on the couch, meets your eyes with that signature, shit-eating grin plastered on his face. the one that makes your eye twitch in instant irritation. he’s enjoying this way too much and you want to pummel him into the ground. 

it’s been a week since you let your embarrassing little secret slip—your boyfriend can’t make you cum. and now, for seven agonizing days, your infuriating best friend has been toying with that knowledge like it’s his new favorite game. poking at your frustration with every sly comment, every teasing smirk.

you’re seething, and sexually frustrated, wound tight and ready to fucking snap. baekhyun knows exactly what he’s doing, pushing your buttons like only he can, and you’re not sure if you want to punch him or let him finish what your boyfriend never could.

it’s your bi-weekly hangout with your friend group—same old routine: catching up over movies, playing drinking games, maybe getting high, with mindless banter and a sea of snacks. the aroma of freshly baked cookies mingles with the air as you wait for takeout to arrive. you're surrounded by your closest friends, laughing, relaxed. but beneath the surface, you’re a storm waiting to break. every fiber of your being wants to blow up at him, but you can’t. no one knows about the “friends-with-benefits” situation that crashed and burned a few months ago, and you'd be damned if they found out. it would wreck the entire dynamic, fill the room with awkward tension, and you're not about to let that happen.

it lasted as long as it could before you realized you were starting to catch feelings— which definitely wasn’t part of the deal. you couldn’t admit that to him, though. no way, it’d be too embarrassing. you’d wreck the years of friendship that you have between you. so instead, you lied. you told him you were interested in seeing someone and wanted to give it a real shot.

one of your coworkers had been persistent about taking you out, and eventually, you gave in. he was great—amazing, even. a real charmer, with looks that could stop traffic, a sharp sense of humor, and a surprising attentiveness that made him seem like the total package. except for one small detail: he couldn’t take you to that edge, couldn’t push you past the brink where pleasure turns into toe-curling bliss. you tried to tell yourself that, with time and patience, he could learn. maybe, with a few more pointers, he’d figure out how to unravel you, bit by bit. 

but the truth is, you don’t want to have to teach someone all over again. not when there’s someone who already knows every inch of your body, someone whose touch leaves you trembling without needing a single word. baekhyun. he’s the one who knows exactly where to touch, where to linger, how to make you drip with nothing but a glance or the graze of his fingers.

but, of course, it’s never that simple. because baekhyun is your best friend, and as much as you wish he could see you in the same way, he doesn’t—or at least, not in the way you need him to. and even though your boyfriend has been nothing but sweet and patient these past few months, the connection just isn’t there. the attraction feels muted, like a faded echo of what it should be.

it leaves you simmering with a frustration you can’t admit out loud, the kind that gnaws at you from the inside, bubbling just beneath the surface, waiting for the smallest crack to spill over and consume you. you’ve been holding it together for so long, but every time you’re near baekhyun, every casual brush of his skin against yours, it pushes you closer to the edge. and you don’t know how much longer you can keep pretending. how much longer you can keep this act going, knowing that the one person you truly want is right there, just out of reach.

suddenly overwhelmed and no longer in the mood for the night’s festivities, thanks to baekhyun, you decided to slip away quietly. feigning a tired smile, you excused yourself, blaming it on the onset of a cold you claimed was creeping up on you.

as you got up and gathered your things, slipping on your sweater to shield yourself from the chilly october evening, baekhyun let out an exaggerated yawn and announced he was heading out as well, drawing boos and groans from your friends that both of you were leaving. 

feeling the walls close in, you rush to the door, needing to escape and breathe. your hands fumble to slip on your shoes, heart racing, fingers already gripping the cool metal of the doorknob. just as you’re about to turn it, baekhyun’s voice stops you, smooth but firm. "hey, let me take you home." his presence lingers behind you, his words almost a plea, warm and insistent.

without meeting his gaze, you replied coldly, “no, i’m fine. i’d rather walk,” waving him off dismissively. “goodnight, baekhyun.”

“w-wait!” he called out, but you were already closing the door in his face. you pulled your bag over your shoulder and tugged your sweater tighter around your neck, bracing against the crisp fall air.

your apartment was only a few blocks away, an easy ten-minute walk on most nights, but tonight, you lingered. every step was slower, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you wandered the quiet streets. you needed the extra time, the space to think about the growing weight of your situation. 

your thoughts drifted to your boyfriend—should you break up with him? the idea gnawed at you. you even reached for your phone, fingers hovering over his name, but the words refused to come. how could you explain that nothing he did ever truly satisfied you? that every time, you had to guide him, instruct him, tell him how to touch you, how to kiss you. his attempts never stirred anything deep inside, and when he fucked you, it was mechanical—passionless, almost empty.

he wasn’t like baekhyun.

with baekhyun, you never had to say a word. he knew your body instinctively, knew how to make you unravel without asking. he never needed guidance to make you cum; it was as natural as breathing for him.

you approached your apartment complex, the weight of your unresolved dilemma still pressing heavily on your mind—caught between trying to make things work with your boyfriend and the tangled, confusing feelings you had for baekhyun. your shoulders slumped as your head hung low, chin brushing against your chest, your eyes tracing the cracks in the pavement. the world around you felt muted, distant, like you were moving through a fog, everything blurred and out of focus.

with a swift punch of the door code, the lock beeped softly, and the door groaned open. but before you could step inside, your breath caught in your throat. there, by the entrance, sat a pair of men’s shoes—worn but familiar, ones you couldn’t possibly mistake. they rested neatly by the door, as if they had been waiting for you, like he had been waiting for you.

a tired sigh slipped from your lips, recognition sinking into your chest. you didn’t need to look any further to know who was already inside.

you were hoping for a moment of solitude to finish gathering your thoughts, but there he was—baekhyun, rummaging through your pantry, helping himself to your snacks.

“baekhyun, what are you doing here?” you ask, voice laced with surprise and slight irritation. 

it’s not like his presence is unusual—he’s your best friend after all. he used to drop by unannounced all the time, making himself at home as if your space was his own. he’d lounge on your couch, rummage through your fridge, and sometimes, without a word, he'd settle next to you for hours. but since you both called off your little "arrangement," those random visits had stopped completely. maybe it was because there was no longer that unspoken pull drawing him to your bed, or maybe—for once—he was trying to give you some space.

but let’s be real—baekhyun doesn’t know the meaning of personal space, especially when it comes to you. and little did you know, it’s not respect for your privacy that keeps him away. no, it’s because he can’t bear the thought of walking in and potentially finding you with someone else. the idea of seeing you with your new boyfriend—his hands where baekhyun’s used to be—would kill him. he’s already imagined it a hundred times, and each time, the image is enough to make him want to gouge his eyes out.

he peeks out from behind the pantry door, a bag of chips in his grip, he grinned. “oh, hey! you’re finally here.” he stuffed a few chips into his mouth, his voice muffled. “y’seemed a bit out of it, so i wanted to make sure you were okay.” with a playful poke to your cheek, causing you to grimace. “shoulda just let me drive ya home, cupcake. i’ve been here for like ten minutes already.”

"cupcake." the nickname pulls you into a warm memory from childhood. you and baekhyun, determined to bake cupcakes for a school event, laughed as flour flew everywhere, turning the kitchen into a playful disaster. your moms watched in horror as you two struggled with the instructions, but when the cupcakes came out, you both beamed with pride—baekhyun mostly for the fun. at the event, you eagerly awaited your friends' reactions to your creations, excitement bubbling inside you. but when they announced their preference for another girl’s cupcakes—sparkling with glittery frosting—your heart sank. yours and baekhyun’s looked so plain in comparison. heartbroken, you ran off, only for him to find you, comforting you with a gentle pat on the head, "you’re my favorite, cupcake." he gently wiped away your tears as you choked out a trembling, "promise?" between your sobs. “mhm! promise,” and in that moment, he wrapped his pinky with yours, and with a playful press of your thumbs, you stamped it with sincerity. fifteen years later, the nickname still clings to you like the sweetest frosting.

"'m fine, really," you lied, your voice barely steady as your eyes darted away from his. you leaned against the kitchen island, elbows digging into the cool surface, pressing your forehead into your palms. no matter how you tried to mask it, the stiffness in your frame exposed the truth, even as you tried to keep your tone light. "’m just... not feeling well, that's all."

you’re stuck in the middle, torn between what feels safe and what feels right. you keep telling yourself that making it work with your boyfriend is the better option—after all, you’re terrified of losing baekhyun as your best friend. but a part of you knows, deep down, that things between you and baekhyun aren’t the same anymore. ever since you became friends with benefits, something shifted, something fragile that you’re afraid to acknowledge. 

you can’t let yourself believe baekhyun could feel something deeper for you. it’s easier to stay in denial than face the possibility that the guy you’ve been so close to, the one who knows you inside out, might actually want more. maybe it’s because you’re scared—scared of ruining the friendship that’s been your constant, the one thing you can always rely on. so, you push down the thoughts, shove aside the feelings, and try to make things work with your boyfriend. but you know you’re unsatisfied. emotionally, physically—it’s not enough. yet, you cling to it, because you think it’s better to have a relationship that’s functional rather than risk something that might fall apart. 

but baekhyun… with him, it’s different. you never have to try. things just fall into place with him, naturally, effortlessly. it feels so right—too right—and maybe that’s what terrifies you. being with him feels easy, like slipping into something that was always meant to be, and that scares you more than anything. what if you let yourself fall for him and everything changes? what if you lose him completely, not just as a lover but as your best friend? 

you don’t know what you want. you can’t figure out if you should stay with your boyfriend just to avoid the risk of losing baekhyun, or if you should give in to the way you feel toward him. deep down, you know what you want, but you can’t bring yourself to admit it. it’s the fear that stops you—the fear of losing control, of opening up to something real, of being vulnerable with someone who’s already seen all your cracks.

but how long can you pretend? how long can you stay in a relationship that leaves you empty, just because it’s safer than taking a chance? maybe what you’re really scared of isn’t losing baekhyun. maybe it’s the idea that being with him feels too perfect, too right, and that kind of happiness is something you don’t know how to handle. but sooner or later, you’ll have to make a choice—stay in a relationship that drains you, or risk everything for something that makes you feel alive.

but you’d deal with that headache another day.

his fingers curl around your arm, firm but not forceful, spinning you to face him. the movement is swift, catching you off guard, and you stumble slightly before his gaze locks with yours. “is this about my text earlier?” his voice is playful, but there’s an edge beneath the tease. “i’m sooooo sorry for teasing about your loser boyfriend, the one ya clearly don’t have any romantic feelings for,” he says, each word dripping with mockery.

“you’re such an ass, y’know that?” you want to yell at him, to snap back with something cutting, to defend your relationship like it actually means something. you want to push him out the door and slam it behind him, pretend that this tension between you doesn’t exist.

but you can’t. because baekhyun’s right. and even now, with him standing just inches away, you feel more electricity between you than you ever have with your boyfriend. the way he looks at you, the way the air between you thickens—it’s undeniable. infuriatingly so.

the atmosphere shifts, charged with something far more dangerous. his voice softens, but the playful glint in his eyes doesn’t fade. “finefinefine. ’m sorry, f’real, cupcake. hate seeing ya upset cus of me. how ‘bout i make it up to you, hmm?” his words are smooth, each one laced with a promise. “i can help ya forget all about your little boyfriend.”

the word lingers between you, thick with implication. you shift on your feet, heart racing. “well…i—i don’t know,” you stammer, your gaze falling to the floor. you can’t look at him. if you do, he’ll see it—the flicker of hope, the unspoken longing. you’ve tried so hard to bury it, to keep it hidden, but in moments like this, it threatens to spill out.

his fingers loosen slightly on your arm, but he doesn’t let go. instead, his thumb is rubbing circles, the gentle caress making it harder for you to keep it together. “i don’t know what i want,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. you’re not even sure if you’re convincing yourself or him. all you know is that if you meet his eyes, he’ll likely see everything you’ve been trying to deny: the truth that maybe you don’t want your boyfriend at all. maybe you’ve wanted baekhyun all along.

your eyes are glued to the floor and your trying your hardest to suppress the rising heat in your chest. his fingers slide from your arm up to your chin, gently tilting your face toward him. his thumb brushes against your bottom lip, a gesture that sends a rush of heat through your body, making it impossible to think straight.

“look at me,” he whispers, his voice low and almost dangerous. slowly, your gaze lifts to meet his. “i don’t believe you,” he murmurs, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. his eyes drop briefly to your mouth before returning to yours, darker now. “i think you do know what you want.”

suddenly his body is pressing into yours, the warmth radiating from him almost overwhelming. his hand slides up, cradling your neck, fingers gentle yet possessive, his thumb brushing along your jawline. your breath hitches as he leans in, lips hovering so close to yours you can feel his breath.

“baekhyun….w-we really shouldn’t…” you stammer, the words tumbling out in a weak attempt to stop what you know is inevitable. but your body doesn’t qute get the memo with the way you’re leaning into him, craving his touch.

“tell me to stop, then,” he whispers, lips brushing yours, his voice coarse with challenge. his eyes are locked onto yours, daring you to say it. to push him away.

but you can’t. every nerve in your body is screaming for more—for him. all the frustration from your boyfriend, the disappointment in every failed touch, every unsatisfying kiss—it all crashes over you at once. and baekhyun… baekhyun is standing right here, so close, so familiar. you miss him. you miss the way his lips felt on yours, the way his hands knew exactly where to touch you, the way he could unravel you in seconds.

you can’t tell him to stop. not when you want him this badly.

your lips part in a breath, and that’s all the invitation he needs. his mouth crashes onto yours, the kiss full of urgency and raw, unrestrained need. his lips move against yours in perfect sync, fierce yet deliberate, like he’s pouring everything into this one moment. his tongue brushes against yours, coaxing a soft whimper from your throat, and his hand tightens slightly around your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

he groans into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you, and it’s like all the pent-up frustration you’ve been harboring melts away in an instant. all you can feel is baekhyun, his lips claiming yours, his body pressing you back against the wall with an intensity that leaves you breathless.

“i’ve missed this,” he mutters between kisses, his lips barely leaving yours. “missed you.”

your hands tangle in his shirt, pulling him closer, needing him like never before. it’s not just the kiss—it’s everything you’ve been holding back, everything you’ve denied yourself. and now, here he is, reminding you of exactly what you’ve been craving.

when he finally pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his forehead resting against yours, you’re both panting, chests heaving. “see, cupcake?” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. “you know exactly what you want.”

before you can respond, his lips are on yours again, fiercer this time, as if the mere thought of stopping is unthinkable. the kiss deepens, every inch of him pressing closer, until he’s got you in your room and on your bed, pinned beneath him. his body moves instinctively, shifting behind you, and within seconds, you feel him slide into you from behind, achingly slow at first. but the second he bottoms out, something shifts. a low groan rumbles from deep in his chest, vibrating against your skin. he doesn’t even wait for you to adjust, he loses all control, thrusting with raw, feral intensity. his chest is flush against your back, the heat of his body overwhelming as your face presses into the pillow, muffling the broken moans spilling from your lips as you bite into the fabric, trying to hold on for dear life.

each relentless thrust from baekhyun feels like it’s stealing the very breath from your lungs, leaving you gasping for air. his movements are unyielding, almost desperate, as if he’s trying to reclaim every second of the time you’ve spent apart, making up for the last few months he couldn’t have you like this. 

the sheets twist tightly in your fists, but no matter how hard you cling to them, it’s impossible to ground yourself—he’s pulling you deeper into the intoxicating blur of sensation. his pace is feral, his hips slamming into yours with an intensity that borders on overwhelming. 

baekhyun moans, the sound rough and guttural, fueling the fire building inside you. his hands grip your thighs, possessive and firm, as he drives into you with a force that makes your entire body quake. the heady mix of sensation has you floating, completely consumed by him, by the way he moves, as if he’s trying to burn this moment into your skin, into your memory. each thrust pushes you closer to that edge, where all you can feel, all you can think about, is him.

his voice cuts through the haze—deep, raspy. "look at my pretty little angel... i’ve missed watching you fall apart for me." his words, tainted with hunger, ignite something in you. but you can’t find it in you to respond, not with the way he’s driving you to the edge. 

his fingers sink into your hips, firm and punishing, and you know for certain that bruises will manifest if he keeps this up. each grip imprints on your skin, marking you as if he’s claiming you as his own. and you revel in it—every deliciously painful second. there’s something intoxicating about witnessing him completely lost, consumed by his need for you, making you feel more desired than ever before. 

his breath is hot against your ear as he growls, "you're all mine, aren’t ya, cupcake?"

you can barely find your voice, breathless and overwhelmed, but somehow you manage to gasp out, "y-yes... all yours." how could you ever belong to anyone else when he's driving into you with such raw intensity, each thrust relentless, pushing you deeper into the mattress?

"yours," you repeat, the truth sinking in. you always have been. you never stopped. 

baekhyun’s grip tightens at your affirmation, his pace quickening in response—he liked your answer. it’s clear in the way he devours you, body and soul. he’s using you like his personal plaything, his touch both possessive and unrelenting. but it’s the sounds spilling from his lips that keep you tethered to reality—reminding you that it’s still him. baekhyun. your baekhyun.

"baek," you whimper, voice shaky, barely audible over the sounds of your bodies moving in sync. he doesn’t respond right away, too lost in the pleasure rippling through him, but you see it—the way his eyes flicker open, wild and dark, his gaze locking onto yours. a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, but it’s not his usual playful grin. this one is predatory, dangerous.

“what’s wrong, cupcake?” he rasps, his voice dripping with amusement, though there's something almost menacing in the way he says it. "can’t—nnngghhh—handle it?"

your breath hitches, and the words you want to say cling to your tongue, refusing to come free. all you can manage is a faint nod, a fragile acknowledgment of the moment. he leans in closer, his lips grazing the delicate curve of your ear. his voice, a low whisper, dancing across your skin.

"good," he purrs, his voice now a deep, velvety growl. "cus i don’t think i can stop fucking this pretty pussy. fuck—i think she missed me." 

what feels like hours later, after countless orgasms brought forth by his mouth and the myriad of ways he’s taken you, the sight before you is nothing short of devastating. baekhyun has already came inside you twice, and now, poised on the brink of losing himself again in a mean mating press, he looks utterly wrecked. strands of damp hair cling to his forehead, dark and slick with sweat, framing a face flushed with feverish desire. a deep crimson blooms across his cheeks, spilling down the bridge of his nose like a painting. his bottom lip is pinched between his teeth, the skin pale from the pressure, while his gaze—dark, ravenous, and locked on the intimate connection of your bodies.

the way his eyes feast on you sends a shiver racing down your spine, igniting a deep ache that only he can soothe. he trembles with barely contained desire, his body quaking with the need to claim you all over again, while you teeter on the edge, overwhelmed and craving more. before you know it, he’s flipping you back onto your stomach, pulling your hips up to meet his as your face and the upper half of your body sink into the mattress, the sheets slick with your sweat and juices.

his tip glides teasingly over your entrance, and you instinctively flinch away from the sensitivity, heart racing. 

"nonono, cupcake, don’t do that," baekhyun’s voice rumbles, low and commanding, sending another jolt through you. his hands are firm as they guide your hips back against his waist, grip tightening, muscles flexing as he holds you in place. "run away from me again, and i’ll make it so ya can’t walk." 

"p-please, baekhyun," you whine.

a deep chuckle vibrates through his chest, sending a shiver rippling down your spine. goosebumps rise, and baekhyun notices—he always notices—his hands roaming, possessive, over every inch of your trembling body. "uh-uh," his voice rough with lust, "you’re gonna take every last drop.”

his hips surge forward, harder, deeper, and his eyes flicker up to meet yours. there's a flicker of something wild in them, raw. 

“fuck, you’re s-so perfect. so perfect for me,” he growls, voice low and ragged, and it shoots straight through you, making your insides coil in response. “y’feel that, cupcake? how close i am?” his tone is a little desperate now, his restraint slipping as he fights to keep control. but you can see it—the need, the hunger that threatens to consume him.

another thrust, brutal, claiming, sends you spiraling, and you feel him everywhere. your breath hitches, and you know he can feel it too, how tightly you’re holding him inside, the way your body swallows him tells him just how much you want him—more than words ever could.

a hiss escapes him, sharp and guttural, his teeth gritting as he barely holds on. “you’re so tight—fuck—i’m gonna–ngh–fill you up again. you’re gonna take it all, aren’t ya? isn’t that right, my girl?” his voice is almost pleading now, the desperation to spill into you driving him mad. and when his thrusts grow erratic, each one landing deeper than the last, you know he’s close to breaking, just as you are. 

it’s intoxicating, watching him unravel before you, the way his chest rises and falls erratically, every ragged breath he takes feeding into your own desire. at the sound of his name slipping from your lips—soft, and pleading—he finally tears his gaze from the mess he's made of you.

his eyes, dark and glazed over, meet yours, and there’s the faintest hint of a smile on his lips, but it’s strained, barely there. he doesn’t slow. if anything, he pushes harder, deeper, the rhythm relentless. sweat drips from his temple, tracing down his cheek, but he doesn’t even notice. his focus is singular, entirely consumed by you—by the way your body trembles, how your fingers grip onto the sheets, like a lifeline.

"say it again," he breathes, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper, but you hear the urgency in it. "say my name."

you bite your lip, trying to hold back, but the intensity of his gaze—it undoes you. your eyes meet his, tear-filled and hazy, and you see the way his own eyes flicker, like he’s losing whatever control he had left.

and it’s the way your soft, pouty lips quiver as they whisper his name that gets him there, how your brows are knit together in an innocent plea while your eyes gaze up at him, brimming with love and vulnerability.

his jaw clenches, and he lets out a deep, guttural sound, so raw it sends shivers through you. he lowers his forehead to your back, his breath hot against your skin.

"holy–fuck—," he hisses through gritted teeth, his hand tightening on your waist, like he’s afraid to let go. his hips stutter before slamming forward, burying himself deep inside you one final time. his orgasm crashes over him like a violent wave, dragging him under. the guttural moan that escapes his lips is raw, primal, and he knows he’ll be embarrassed about it later, but in this moment, it’s beyond his control.

you feel the tremor in his body as he shudders against you, his skin flushed, slick with sweat, while his cock pulses inside you. his balls tighten and twitch, spilling hot and thick, the sensation drawing a gasping whimper from your own throat. his breath is erratic, each inhale a desperate gulp.

baekhyun lowers himself until his chest is pressed against your back, the weight of his body sinking into you, his lips brushing your ear as he pants, "you... you feel too fucking good. how do you... how do ya do this to me?" his voice is shaky, barely a whisper as his hands continue to clutch you, desperate, possessive.

you murmur something incoherent in response, your own mind foggy with aftershocks, but all you can focus on is the way he trembles against you. his forehead presses against back, and you feel him trying to steady his breath, his heart racing like he’s just run a marathon.

“goddamn,” he breathes, the words more for himself than for you, voice thick with awe. "i’m never… getting enough of this. never gonna get enough of you."

his body lingers against yours, the air still heavy with the remnants of pleasure. even as the sharp edge of your climax begins to dull, you can feel the way his hands stay locked on your skin, like he’s afraid to let go, fingers tracing invisible patterns over your waist as if committing every inch of you to memory. there's a yearning in his touch, a silent desperation that clings to the moment, stretching it out.

you pretend not to notice. you can’t let yourself notice. feeding into that fantasy, that he could want more than this—more than just the heat between your bodies—would be a mistake. he’s your best friend, and that’s all this is. two best friends tangled in each other, using one another to satisfy a need. nothing more, nothing deeper.

it couldn’t be.

the air in the room feels heavy, thick with something unspoken. at least that’s what it feels like to baekhyun, like a weight pressing down on his chest. as he’s silently pulling his clothes back on, he’s stuck in his head, running over the same thought again and again: how badly he wants to ask you to leave your boyfriend. he wants to beg you to give him a real chance. because you and him? you just fit. 

it makes so much sense in his mind—you should know it too, right? i mean, the synergy between you two is undeniable—the way you connect, how effortlessly you bounce off each other, both physically and emotionally. no one gets his humor the way you do, no one reads him so instinctively, and no one fits him quite like you. you’re each other’s perfect match, and he feels it in every fiber of his being. what could be better than being in a committed relationship with your best friend, someone who already knows you inside and out?

he hesitates, throwing his shirt on as you rummage through your closet, probably looking for something more comfortable now that you’re home. his voice breaks the silence, casual but laced with a tinge of hope. “soooo... are you gonna break up with, uh, what’s-his-name?”

you pause, turning around with a look of genuine confusion on your face. “huh? oh—hmm, no. at least, not just yet... maybe i should give it another shot? he actually texted me not too long ago if i could meet him for drinks in a bit.”

the way his expression drops is almost comical, if it weren’t for the fact that you see it—the disbelief, the frustration flickering across his face before he can mask it. baekhyun has never been skilled at concealing his emotions, despite his insistence that he can. right now, it feels like he isn’t even attempting to hide the disappointment that hangs between you like a heavy fog.

if you could hear his thoughts, it’d be something like, ‘you’re going out with him? i literally just emptied my entire fucking ballsack into you, and you’re going out with him?’

his frown deepens, brows knitting together as if he’s trying to hold back a storm. before you can fully process what’s happening, he scoffs, shaking his head as if he could simply dismiss it all. “hah. right. okay, well, thanks for the nut, i guess. i’ll be seeing you around.”

each word drips with sarcasm, but beneath it, you can sense the hurt—an ache that tugs at the edges of your heart.

and with that, he turns on his heel and storms out of your bedroom, heading straight for your front door.

“baekhyun, wait!” you call after him, scrambling to catch up, grabbing his arm just before he can leave. he stops, but he doesn’t turn around, his body rigid with frustration. “what’s going on?”

he finally looks at you, and the raw emotion in his eyes catches you off guard. “what’s going on?” he repeats, voice low, almost a growl. “i’m sitting here, watching you play house with some guy who doesn’t get you—not like i do—and i’m supposed to just... what? be okay with it?”

you’re taken aback by the intensity in his tone, the way his words come out in a rush, like he’s been holding them in for way too long. “baekhyun, what the hell are you talking about?”

he lets out a bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “you really don’t get it, do you? we,” his hand gesturing between the two of you, “make sense, you and me. we’ve always made sense. and yet, here you are, wasting your time with someone who doesn’t even appreciate you like i do—who you don’t even like!”

you blink, a wave of dizziness washing over you as a flood of questions races through your mind, each one slipping away before you can grasp it. the weight of his words hangs between you, thick and suffocating.

“s-since when?” you stammer, doubt trembling in your voice. the ground beneath you feels unsteady, as if it might shift and swallow you whole. 

“are you kidding me?” he scoffs, disbelief etching deeper lines into his face. “i was a fucking wreck when you called it off.” the intensity of his emotions surges, filling the quiet of your apartment with an echo that seems to reverberate off the walls. “when you told me you wanted to ‘try dating some other guy’—do you even realize how that felt? why do you think i haven’t been around much since then??? it’s because i literally cannot stand the thought of you with someone else. just the idea makes me sick to my fucking stomach. i can’t breathe knowing he’s with you when it should be me.”

oh.

ohhhh.

his confession hits you like a tidal wave, the unbearable guilt gnawing at your insides. but it’s the way his voice trembles, softening as it cracks beneath the weight of vulnerability, that makes your eyes sting with unshed tears. “but i wanted you to be happy,” he admits, each word wrapped in a bittersweet sincerity that tugs at your heart. “even if it meant not being with me… i knew what this was. i understood our arrangement. and i tried so hard, so fucking hard, to push these feelings down. deep down, i always felt it was something more. call it delusion, but it just felt so good pretending you were mine... even if you didn’t feel the same.”

every word is laced with desperation, like a raw, exposed nerve. the truth hangs heavy in the air, and you can see the storm brewing in his eyes—agitation just beneath the surface, threatening to overflow. 

you can barely meet his gaze, heart racing as the reality of his feelings sinks in, pulling you under. “how come you’ve never said anything before?”

he takes a moment to steady himself, visibly wrestling with the whirlwind of emotions coursing through him. his gaze drops to the floor, fingers still tangled in his hair as he collects his thoughts. when he finally looks back up, his expression is a mix of frustration and vulnerability.

“because i thought you’d be happier without me,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper. “i didn’t want to be the reason you felt trapped or guilty. i thought if you wanted to explore something new, then i should just... step back. but every day these last few months have felt fucking suffocating. i can’t shake the feeling that we belong together, even if it’s terrifying to say out loud.”

he takes a step closer, closing the distance between you, eyes searching yours for understanding. “i’ve been a coward, honestly. i know that. i kept telling myself i should let you go, but every time i see you smile or hear your laugh, it just reminds me of what i’m missing. i wanted to tell you so many times, but i was afraid of ruining whatever friendship we had left.” 

his voice thickens, eyes glistening with unshed emotion. “but i can’t keep pretending anymore. i want to be the one who makes you happy. i need to be that person, even if it means risking everything. even if it means putting everything on the line.” 

he stands there, eyes searching yours, you can see the desperation in his gaze, but the weight of his words feels too heavy to bear, and you take a step back, creating space between you.

“baekhyun, i just—i don’t know if i can—” you start, but he interrupts, the hurt flashing across his face.

“don’t know if you can what? feel the same way? i’m here, laying it all out for you!” his voice rises again, tinged with anguish. “you’re with someone else, and i get that! but you’re standing here like it doesn’t even matter, like you’re just going to pretend whatever we have between us doesn’t exist!”

the sharpness in his words cuts deep, and your heart aches. “it’s not that simple. you know it’s not,” you reply, your voice trembling with the weight of your own emotions. “you think i haven’t thought about what this means? about how complicated it is? i can’t just flip a switch and make everything okay!”

he runs a hand over his face, frustration boiling just below the surface. “you don’t have to make it okay! just... just acknowledge it! acknowledge us. you can’t deny that there’s something more here.” 

the heat of the moment grows unbearable, and you feel tears welling up in your eyes. “i-i can’t! i can’t do this right now! i don’t even know what i want!” 

“then maybe it’s better if you stay with him,” he snaps, hurt flooding his voice. “at least then you can pretend you’re happy. you won’t have to deal with the mess we’ve created. you can have your perfect little life, while i’m over here trying to pick up the fucking pieces.” 

his words cut deep, each syllable laced with disappointment that settles heavily in your chest. “baek… c’mon, that’s not fair—” you reach out to him, but this time, for the first time ever, he pushes you away, the sudden force of it leaving you reeling.

“just please…let me go, okay?” his voice is low, but it trembles with emotion. “there’s nothing here for me anymore. you’ve made it clear that there never was.” 

you swallow hard, the weight of unshed tears threatening to spill over as you gaze into his eyes for what feels like the last time. the raw pain reflected back at you cuts deep, shattering something fragile inside you. he turns on his heel, his silhouette fading into the distance, the door clicking shut behind him like a final punctuation mark.

now, in the suffocating stillness, the tears flow freely, your chest tightening under the weight of your own heartbreak. each beat of your heart an ugly reminder of how deeply fucked this entire situation is.

this is it. 

you’ve hit rock bottom.

the days that follow blur into a haze of heartache and regret. each moment apart stretches into an eternity, every thought of baekhyun sending sharp pangs of longing twisting painfully through your chest. you try to distract yourself, immersing yourself in the whirlwind of work while surrounding yourself with friends—friends who have always sensed the unspoken tension between you and baekhyun. apparently, you two were never as subtle as you thought you were. the longing glances, the lingering touches, constantly matching each other’s energy, him effortlessly meeting you on every wavelength—everybody saw it, each tiny detail. 

‘you’d have to be deaf and blind to not pick up on the chemistry,’ one of them commented. ‘yeah, we were all calling you and baekhyun the next hellen kellers,’ another added.  ‘more like tweedle dee and tweedle dum,’ someone else chuckled. you couldn’t help but wince at the truth of it all.

you come to find out that they all secretly rooted for your “not-so-secret” connection to flourish, yet holding back from intervening, respecting the boundaries of your privacy. you feel nothing but gratitude for that unspoken understanding; after all, the very reason you both kept your fwb arrangement hidden was because of the fear of anyone else complicating the already complicated.

oh, and your boyfriend—the poor guy. he really didn’t deserve the turmoil you put him through. the conversation with him still echoes in your mind, haunting you like a ghost. you told him the truth, your voice trembling as you confessed to your betrayal. “i cheated,” you said, tears welling in your eyes. “i’m so sorry. it was wrong, and i take full responsibility for everything.” you could see the disappointment wash over his face, the trust he had for you shattering before your eyes. he deserved more than what you gave him, yet you’d been stringing him along, all because you felt like you didn’t have a chance with baekhyun—the one who made your heart race in a way your boyfriend never could.

now, you’re left with nothing but the empty echoes of those moments, each heartbeat a reminder of the love you lost and the love you crave. baekhyun's laughter still dances in your memory, his touch lingers on your skin, and the connection you shared feels like an ache that refuses to fade. despite the distractions, you can’t escape the truth that looms over you: he’s the one you truly want. it was always baekhyun who held your heart, and the thought of losing him makes your heart ache all over again.

then, one evening, after an especially difficult day, you find yourself in a familiar spot—a coffee shop you and baekhyun used to frequent together. you sit there, cradling your drink, as a wave of sweet memories washes over you, each one tied to your past visits here with him.

just as you’re gathering your things to leave, the bell above the door jingles, and your heart races when you see who's walking in, a hesitant expression etched across his face.

“hey,” he says softly, eyes locking onto yours with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

“baekhyun…” his name falls from your lips in a quiet whisper, the weight of unspoken emotions heavy between you as you step closer. “can we talk?”

he nods, motioning toward a nearby table. your legs feel leaden as you walk over, your heart pounding so loudly it drowns out everything else. each beat is a reminder of how much this moment means, of how much you stand to lose. you can’t mess this up. not again. you have to make this work—you can’t lose him.

“i know things have been… difficult since everything happened,” you begin, your voice trembling as you lower yourself into the chair. his eyes are on you, but they seem distant, almost guarded. “but i can’t keep pretending i don’t care. i can’t just walk away from us.”

baekhyun looks down, his fingers brushing the edge of the table, searching for the right words. his heart feels like it’s about to burst. “i didn’t think you felt the same,” he murmurs, his voice soft and vulnerable.

“i was scared,” you admit, your voice breaking slightly. “scared of losing you for good. but i realized that it’s worse to lose you without even trying to fight for what we had.” 

you feel the tears prick at your eyes again, but this time they’re not from sadness; they’re from the overwhelming relief of seeing him here, in front of you. 

“i don’t want to lose you either,” he confesses, his voice laced with quiet desperation. his hand reaches across the table, the warmth of his touch wrapping around yours as he gently grasps it. “i can’t stand the thought of seeing you with someone else. i never did. i want to be with you, and i’m willing to do anything to make it work.”

your chest tightens as you take a deep breath, nodding slowly while a shaky exhale slips from your lips. “i want to be with you, too. for real this time.”

his eyes widen, hope flickering like sparks catching flame. “do you mean it?” he asks, his voice filled with cautious anticipation.

you nod again, a soft hum of agreement escaping you, and in that moment, his smile breaks free, one of pure, unguarded relief. without a word, his hand reaches out, and your pinkies intertwine, just as they did all those years ago. a silent promise passes between you, and with a soft press of your thumbs, the vow is sealed—an echo of the past and a delicate mark of something entirely new.

“so… can i be your boyfriend?” he asks, his nervous grin tugging at the corners of his lips, his voice dipping into a shy but hopeful tone.

“yes,” you reply, unable to suppress the giggle that bubbles up, “i would love it if you were.”

his grin widens, turning his brown eyes into soft crescent moons, as if the tension in the room has melted away. you hadn’t realized how tense he was until you see him relax into his chair. “ugh, thank goddddd. i’m so glad we agreed not to be stupid anymore,” he jokes with a smile, and your heart swells at the familiar spark in his voice. and it hits you again—just how much you’ve missed him. that toothy smile, his voice, his laugh and the way he can always bring light into even the darkest moments. just him.

your best friend.

your boyfriend.

“i missed you, y’know?” you confess, the words tumbling out with sincerity.

“i missed you, too, cupcake.” he replies, his expression softening, thumb tracing little planets on the back of your hand.

he lets out a relieved sigh before continuing, “so what does my GIRLFRIEND want to do now?” excitement bubbles in his tone. “should we take a walk on the beach? the sun is about to set, and it would be nice. or does my GIRLFRIEND want to watch a movie? maybe my GIRLFRIEND wants to grab some dessert?”

you can’t help but blush, a giggle escaping your lips at the way he emphasizes your new title, drawing curious glances from the cafe patrons. embarrassment flares in your cheeks as you swiftly rise, tugging him by the arm to guide him out of the bustling cafe.

as soon as the door clicks shut behind you, he whirls you around, his hands tenderly cradling your face. twarmth of his palms feels like home as he leans in, kissing you with such devotion and tenderness that sends you soaring straight to cloud nine. everything outside melts away, and in that electric moment, it’s just the two of you, wrapped snug in each other’s arms.

he pulls back slightly, his breath mingling with yours, and you catch a glimpse of that playful spark in his eyes. he sends a thrill racing through you as he ghosts his lips over yours, the soft brush igniting a flutter deep in your stomach. “or how about i take my girlfriend back to my place,” his voice low and sultry, “and we consummate our new relationship?” 

you laugh, your heart racing at the implication. “i think my boyfriend read my mind,” you tease, interlocking your fingers with his as you both giggle, making your way to his car. ‘finally,’ baekhyun thinks to himself as he swings open the passenger door, a grin spreading across his face. before you hop in, he leans in for one last kiss, savoring the sweetness of the moment. and as he shuts the door, a wave of relief washes over him. ‘finally, you’re all mine.’

જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 a/n: the song linked in the title (and a text post on here that i cannot find for the life of me) inspired me to write a fwb!baekhyun fic 🙂‍↕️ i was going to end it with angst but then i realized......i literally can't do that!!!! lmfao i need my disney ending or else i'm gonna combust!!!!!!! sigh but anyways, i hope u enjoyed it!!!! as always, lmk your thots unless you hate it then pls keep it to yourself omg cus i am sensitive and will cry <3 (not joking)

⤷ prequel <3

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 . 

[myrainbowgelpen]

(now playing) 🎧: Stay Up — BAEKHYUN

MATURE FIC RECS

CALL ME, BABY | @icequeenbae [established rel, PWP, phone sex, toys] 3.3K PINK LACE | @bobohu4eva [college!au, stripper!au, slow burn] series WEIGHT LOSS ALTERNATIVES | @gyudior [sub!bbh, married!au] 4.6K CREAM SODA | @eomayas [idol!bbh, PWP] HIGH FOR THIS | @exxxoblr [friends with benefits?] 1.2K FIRE | @kpopfanfictrash [rivals to lovers, druglord!bbh] 3.2K THIRSTY | @cbx-squad-chenbaekxiu-blog [vampire!bbh] STAY THE NIGHT part 2 | @icequeenbae [dad!bbh, established rel] 3.2K DEAL WITH IT part 1 | @byuntrash101 [sub!fuckboy!bbh, exes, degradation] 4.9K ECSTASY | @bobohu4eva [soloist!bbh, drug use, toxic relationship] series MUTUALLY BENEFICIAL | @breakyeol [bff!bbh, porn, masterbation] 3K HITCHED | @bobohu4eva [arranged marriage] 9.8K 02:50 | @cyberexo NO MISTAKE | @an-annyeoing-writer "COME AND MAKE ME" | @yeoldontknow [morning after, ligth ditry talk] 1.2K RECKLESS | @taetaesbaebaepsae [mafia!au] 1.6K A LESSON | @8bityeol [asking friend!bbh to teach you how to...] CYCLE | @gyudior [strangers with benefits, toxic!bbh] SANTA SUIT | @kpopfanfictrash [friends to lovers] 2.9K YOU GHOST | @icequeenbae [demon!bbh] 7.6K GOOD TO YOU | @bobohu4eva [idol!bbh, maid au] series TOUCH IT FOR REAL | @soobadnoonecanstopher [virgin!baek, roomates, slow burn, mutual pining] series

to be updated…

[kaleidohscopic]

SWEET — BBH

PAIRING: baekhyun x female reader SUMMARY: it's one thing to run into the guy you maybe, used to have a little bit of a thing for at your mutual friends' birthday party. it's another thing to find out he maybe, used to have a little bit of a thing for you too. GENRE: friends (ish) to lovers! au, romance, a hint of smut, some pining if you squint WARNINGS: swearing, alcohol consumption, jenkai (humour me), wayyyy too much sexual tension, it gets a little hot and heavy towards the end but nothing super explicit (bc idk how to write that stuff sorry!), general mature content and themes WORD COUNT: 4.4k NOTE: super self-indulgent w barely any plot or characterisation (basically four thousand something words of foreplay lol), i saw that video of baek at one of the lonsdaleite stops unbuttoning his shirt and it drove me a little loopy ngl...

The last time you had seen Byun Baekhyun was two years ago.

Graduation. Gowns. Bouquets. There was probably a photo of the two of you, along with the rest of your cohort, sitting around somewhere in the depths of your camera roll, fresh-faced and eager to take on the exciting new world outside of 3000-word essays and 9 am tutorials. Four years taking variations of the same courses and bitching about the same tutors meant you were far from strangers, but sadly, the friendship had dwindled once you’d left the classrooms for good — something you had been just a little gutted about. These days, his appearances in your life were rare, save for the times he’d come up in conversation with the friends you both shared back in the day, or his sporadic likes on your instagram posts.

Except now, of course, as you watched him climb up the stairs to the rooftop bar, gift bag in one hand and suit jacket in the other.

“Happy birthday!” he beamed, enveloping your best friend in a hug. The fabric of his shirt strained against the movement of his arms, and you caught a whiff of his delicious woody cologne as he approached. 

You had known there’d be a possibility he’d show up today. This year, Jennie had made the enlightened decision to throw a joint celebration with her boyfriend, and obviously that entailed inviting all of his friends — which honestly, wasn’t even that many extra heads since Jongin only ever spoke to the same eight people. You’d seen Baekhyun’s name on the guest list that you had helped her put together, and seen it again listed under the ‘going’ tab of the event, but having the real deal in front of you was another experience entirely.

Crisp white button down with the sleeves rolled up, fitted slacks, and just a glimpse of his toned chest peeking out from where the top few of his shirt buttons were undone.

He looked fucking good. 

Even better than he did two years ago.

Jennie squeezed him back with just as much fervour. “So glad you could make it! Jongin’s been stuck to my side all night with no one to talk to, he’s going to be so happy you’re here.”

He pulled back with a chuckle, and it was then that he finally laid eyes on you, seated next to the birthday girl, holding matching martinis, and doing your best not to look like you had been shamelessly checking him out for the entire 45 seconds since he had arrived. His eyes widened slightly with recognition as your name left his mouth.

“You haven’t forgotten each other, right?” Jennie laughed. The descent of his eyes down the length of you was quick, but not careless, and heat flared in your body all the same. When his gaze returned back to your face, the beginnings of an appreciative smile were shaping the curve of his mouth.

“Not yet, I hope,” he answered her, but his eyes were still on you. “Nice seeing you again. You look good.”

“So do you, Baekhyun,” you replied, because it was the truth. His smile only grew. 

Jennie tipped back the rest of her martini and bade the both of you a hasty farewell, saying something about fixing up the photo zone as she hurried towards the other end of the rooftop. A few of the girls, too excited about the open bar, had knocked the cushions onto the ground, and were doing a poor job of rearranging them back on the wooden swing.

He slid into her now-vacant seat, elbows resting on the bar counter, giving you an excellent view of the shape of his forearms and the veins that adorned it. 

“You’re not going to have that?” he asked, nodding at the sad little olive that sat all alone at the bottom of your empty glass. 

“Not a fan of the saltiness,” you answered, and offered it to him. You watched as he plucked the garnish stick out of your fingers and put the olive in his mouth with no hesitation, eyes lingering a little too long on the movement of his throat as he swallowed it. “I like sweet things better.”

“Yeah, I remember,” he chuckled. “You used to only ever drink vodka cranberries.”

Suddenly, you were twenty-one again, peering through the cafe window and getting a little too giddy at the thought of meeting up outside of the stuffy tutorial classroom to work on the project you had both been assigned to. You’d be lying through your teeth if you said that a crush on Baekhyun was something you never entertained throughout your four years of university together. And maybe it had been reciprocated, for the briefest of times, just after that joint presentation on data structures, where the thought of stepping over from friendly more-than-acquaintances into something more had crossed your mind enough times for you to lose count. There had been something there, or at the very least a hint of something, in the nights spent crammed into a tiny library booth meant only for one person, poring over stale and tedious papers on algorithm organisations in each other’s company.

But nothing had happened. He hadn’t made a move, and neither had you, laden with the fear of rejection that was so indicative of youth. And maybe that had been a huge misplay on your part, because a few weeks after wrapping up the project that had brought you together, he was at your faculty’s monthly pub crawl, introducing you to his new girlfriend, who had actually asked him out just the day before. 

Safe to say that had been the end of that. You were not the type to homewreck.

“How long has it been? I feel like I haven’t seen you since — god, it must have been graduation?” 

“Something like that,” you replied through a smile. “I still have the photos on my phone.”

“So do I,” he said, flashing you a boyish grin. Then, as if doubting the accuracy of his own words, he promptly pulled out his phone and began scrolling towards the top, brows furrowed with determination. It was a few seconds later that he found what he was looking for, turning the screen towards you with a triumphant noise. 

The picture had been taken outside the ceremony hall, set against the familiar sea of graduation gowns, but that was the only familiar thing about it. In the foreground stood just you and Baekhyun, not stiffly posing for the camera as you had been in all of the group shots that existed on your phone, but turned towards each other, faces bursting with elated smiles. Neither of you looked to be aware that there was even a camera on you. The you in the photo had your mouth half open in the tell-tale way it always did when you were about to laugh at the ridiculously corny jokes he loved to crack. His eyes were crinkled at the corners, partially from the glare of the sun overhead — the weather had been phenomenal for the usual gloominess of May — and partially in delight at your reaction, having cracked said joke. 

“I’ve never seen this one before. Did you forget to Airdrop this to me on the day?” you asked, a joking accusation colouring your voice. 

“My mum only sent it to me a whole month later. I didn’t even know she had taken these,” he said, zooming in to better see the expressions on your upturned faces. “We look so happy here,” he added, voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia.

“And young,” you agreed, but not without a sigh. The you of two years ago had yet to know the pains of having seven different bills to pay every month, and watching the money trickle out of your bank account like water from a leaking tap.

He gave you a gentle, teasing nudge with his elbow. “We’re not that old now. We could definitely still pass as twenty somethings.”

“That’s probably because we are still actually twenty somethings,” you countered with a laugh. 

There was an unprecedented ease with which you fell into conversation with Baekhyun. Despite the considerable gap of silence between now and the last time you had seen him, there was nothing in his demeanour or your own that indicated just how much time had passed. It was rather comforting to see a face from your university days, and even better that that face was still as gorgeous as ever.

You watched as he flicked through a few more photos from the day, mostly of him and his friends from university — one of whom was the other main event of tonight — until he landed on a picture of him with his girlfriend. You recognised the photo, seeing as you had been the one who offered to take it. He had an arm around her waist while she carried a huge bouquet with a teddy bear sitting atop the arrangement.

“Didn’t I help you order that thing?” you asked, pointing to the flowers in her hand. He hummed in agreement, but didn’t say much else, scrolling through to the next photos with his parents, which had also been taken by you. They stood on either side of him, beaming with pride, and then there were a few after that with his girlfriend as well, the four of them all standing together and looking picture-perfect. 

Perhaps the you of today would have chosen differently, found the balls to ask him out first — because what was the use in sitting and waiting around for the guy to make the first move? — and maybe you’d be the one in the photo instead, smiling up at the camera, an integral part of the family portrait. Maybe he’d be running his fingers across the inner curve of your wrist, instead of along the rim of the gin and tonic he had just ordered.

“She couldn’t make it today? Or was she not invited?” you asked, having not seen anyone walk in behind him. Although you hadn’t been paying much attention to anything else since he arrived, and if she had been here, you doubted she’d be all too pleased with how close your heads were, even if he was just showing you through his camera roll. With that in mind, you drew back slightly, just enough to catch the expression on his face twisted with an odd sort of surprise.

After a second or so, it melted into an easy-going grin.

“We broke up a while ago. A month or two after graduation, actually.”

Oh.

You and your big mouth.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know — I shouldn’t have —”

“Don’t be, it’s fine,” he reassured, waving off your clumsy apologies. “Things just didn’t work out and we weren’t right for each other. It was a pretty amicable break, all things considered. But now, I get to sleep however I want in my own bed, so I really can’t complain,” he added, fishing another laugh out of you.

“Nothing beats starfishing in your sleep after a long day,” you hummed in agreement. Wednesday nights in your bedroom after a full day of client meetings could attest to that.  

Baekhyun took a slow sip, pulling the drink into his mouth with a contemplative carefulness, and weighed up his words before he spoke again. 

“What about you? Still with Jinyoung?” he asked, tone light and regarding you with curious eyes. Without meaning to, you let out a groan, and his left eyebrow quirked with interest. 

“Don’t even go there,” you half-grimaced, reminded of the fling you had towards the end of fourth year with the business major. He was pretty, and had been nice enough, but by the fifth time he blew off spending time with you so that he could track the world stock indexes, it had become pretty clear that the two of you were on different paths in life. The sex was okay, but it had not been enough to warrant any more than a few late night rendezvous. For all you knew, he was probably now a very successful investment banker with 90 hour work weeks and making a shit-load of money you could only dream about having. 

You sighed, drumming your fingers against the counter. “Let’s just say, he was more interested in looking at his dividend yields than he was in me.”

Baekhyun’s gaze flickered over the rest of you again, taking in the ridges of your collarbone and the soft curve of your waist, the touch of his eyes hovering above your skin like a tangible thing. You tried your best to look unaffected, forcing yourself to remain still under the weight of his stare despite the way it was melting you down to your bones.

“He definitely did not have his priorities in order,” he said, once his eyes ended their journey and returned back to your face. “You’re much nicer to look at.”

His words settled beneath your skin, pulling a sweet warmth to your cheeks that slowly radiated through the rest of your body. You watched as his mouth curved around the rim of his glass again, and followed the path of the drink down the length of his throat. 

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flirting with me.”

He rewarded you with a sly smile. 

“Then maybe you don’t know any better.”

Christ. Those were definitely bedroom eyes.

Your lips parted again, though you had little idea as to the words which were preparing to come out of them. Forming coherent and decent thoughts proved to be a great struggle when he looked like he was undressing you with his eyes. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and you swore you could have crumpled right then and there if it hadn’t been for the bar stool underneath you. 

“Baekhyun, you’re finally here,” said a giggly Jongin, suddenly appearing between the two of you with Jennie in tow.

The tension from seconds earlier dissipated as quickly as it had formed. 

Someone (the birthday boy) had evidently made good use of the open bar to shed the self-imposed shell that came with introversion before the arrival of his friend. “I’m so, so happy to see you. We need to do some shots right now,” he said, now all serious, leaning over to peer at the drinks menu that he himself had signed off on. 

Baekhyun was the first to break eye contact, turning to flash Jongin a fond smile. “Sounds like the best idea you’ve ever had,” he said, before downing the rest of his gin and tonic. 

The birthday girl requested tequila shots, and the bartender was quick to supply, lining up four glasses and filling them with the clear alcohol that was a recurring character in all your worst hangover episodes. You passed them around, but not before turning back around to the bar for one more thing. 

“And a vodka cranberry, please,” you added, catching the amused smile Baekhyun threw your way. 

“For old time’s sake.”

It was approaching the early hours of the morning when the remainder of the party retired to the hotel suite Jennie had booked for the night. One of her chill, moody, late-night R&B playlists had been queued up and was playing softly on the speaker system in the living room — she had a playlist for every conceivable mood and situation — and you could just make out the melody of a Daniel Caesar song, quiet and soothing against the nighttime.

“Okay, you win,” Baekhyun conceded with amusement, sitting up to grab the soju bottle from your outstretched hand. “I’ve never had someone throw up on me, at least not on the first date.” He settled back against the pillows, bringing the bottle to his lips to take a small, slow sip. 

“Thanks, but it’s a victory I’d rather not have. There’s no pride in knowing I’m the only person I know to have a guy spew all over my shoes within ten minutes of meeting me,” you said, leaning back and letting your hands sink into the plush comforter. 

Some thirty or so minutes ago, you had found yourself in one of the smaller rooms of the suite, sitting across from Baekhyun with nothing but a few inches of egyptian cotton separating you. All night, you had felt his presence, whether it was the light brush of his warm fingers across the bare skin of your shoulder to grab your attention, or the weight of his stare from across the rooftop bar while you posed for pictures with Jennie and the rest of the girls. He had infiltrated your senses, occupying his own little space in the corner of your consciousness. Right now, having the whole of him so unobstructed before you, being the sole focus of his attention within the four walls of this small room — it was obvious that the alcohol wasn’t the only thing bringing a heady warmth to your face.

He levelled you with a careful look, and instead of handing the bottle back to you as he had done for the last thirty minutes, he set it onto the nightstand beside the bed with a soft clink. You raised a quizzical eyebrow at him.

“I think you should probably slow down,” he said, catching the curious tilt of your head. “Wouldn’t want you to do something you regret.”

You let a coy smile turn the corners of your mouth upward, shifting your weight off your hands and leaning towards him ever so slightly. “Trust me, I know my limits,” you said, and moved to grab the bottle. 

The hand you placed on the top of his thigh to steady yourself as you reached over him was deliberate, and you failed to hide the deepening of your smile when you felt the muscles flex beneath your fingers. You also didn’t miss the dip of his eyes below the neckline of your dress as you hovered over him, only pulling back once the cool glass of the bottleneck was firmly in your grasp. The glimmer in his eyes, previously light and boyish, had darkened imperceptibly.

You were playing a dangerous game, and you both knew it.

Beyond the door, Jennie’s playlist had changed to something a little more sultry, Kehlani’s honeyed voice now floating among the sounds of the city from below. His gaze remained on you as you raised the bottle to your lips, tilting it back and letting the tartness of the grape soju fill your mouth. 

The song wasn’t the only thing that had changed. There was a palpable shift in the room, a simmering heat gradually seeping into the atmosphere, brought on by your brazen touch. Still, he kept a safe distance, giving you the reins and the freedom to dispel the tension you had created. 

Which you had absolutely no intention to. 

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, relishing in the way his eyes immediately left yours to track the movement. “You know,” you began, turning the bottle over in your hands, “I used to have a bit of a thing for you.”

His eyebrows raised with interest, but there was also a hint of surprise layered beneath.

“Third year, that data algorithms project. I thought a lot about asking you out, actually,” you continued, watching as his face slowly took on a smile at your words. A soft laugh escaped those pretty lips, as if he was enjoying some private joke that you weren’t in on. Without meaning to, you leaned in, drawn to the sound, wanting to understand the amusement behind it. 

“You wanna know something?” he asked, to which you weren’t sure if you had actually nodded, or if you had only imagined that you did, too preoccupied by the inviting curve of his mouth.

He was all too willing to comply with the unspoken request behind your curious eyes, moving forward at a languid pace, until his lips hovered just over the shell of your ear, not quite touching, but close enough that you could feel the fluttering pull of air with each of his inhales and exhales. You could smell him too, his cologne now infused with the scent of his skin over the course of the evening, smooth and sweet, and much too dizzying. 

His cheek brushed yours for a fraction of a second before you registered the conspiratorial whisper in your ear.

“So did I.”

You hadn’t even realised your own eyes had closed until they were fluttering open with his departure from your space. He pulled back, eyes gleaming with a furtive satisfaction like he had just let you in on some big, juicy, forbidden secret. It took a while for your chest to start pulling oxygen back into your lungs again. How he could render you so breathless when he had barely even touched you — you would’ve been embarrassed if not for the foggy warmth circling your head and radiating throughout the rest of your body, leaving you oblivious to everything but the sheer force of how much you wanted him.

He reached for the bottle, now almost empty, and you fought the flinch when you felt his fingers close around your hand. This time, you didn’t complain when he removed it from your grasp and set it back on the nightstand. The warmth of his hand did not leave yours, flipping it over to trail his fingers lightly across your knuckles. 

“These are pretty,” he murmured, thumbing at the rings decorating your fingers. You could only manage a noncommittal hum in response. His touch had stolen your voice right out of your chest, along with all the rationality usually contained inside your mind, leaving you with nothing but the feeling of your own blood thrumming in your veins, hot and fast beneath your skin. 

All night, you had danced around each other, stealing furtive glances and exchanging flirty smiles, carefully toeing around the edge of politeness and propriety. And maybe Baekhyun was just too polite, too respectful, letting you take the wheel and steer tonight in whichever direction you wanted, despite the want that was so clearly etched on his face. 

Surely, your face was a mirror of his own. Surely, he could tell.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked, looking up at you with heavy-lidded eyes, unfurling your fingers to lace his own through them. The press of his warm skin against yours had you light-headed and almost delirious, but you forced your gaze to stay steady on him while you tried to find your voice again.

“I’m thinking,” you began, low and breathy, “about how you’ve been eye-fucking me this whole night.” 

His sharp inhale was unmistakable above the quiet of the room. A meteor could have landed right outside the building and you wouldn’t even have noticed, held captive by his dangerous touch and the hunger flaring in his eyes. 

“And,” you continued, “how I’ve been waiting for you to do something about it ever since you shut that door.”

The second after the words left your mouth seemed to stretch across an eternity. You watched as he registered them, transfixed by how his whole body seemed to cloud over with desire, pushing out any remaining trace of restraint.

One moment you were sitting on the bed, revelling in the delicious tension you had created, and the next he had pulled you flush against him. His mouth was on yours, hot and needy, the self-control he had been so meticulously keeping to for the entire night disappearing the instant he felt your lips move against his own. You were no better, hands leaving his to fist desperately at the fabric of his shirt. An airy moan left your throat when his tongue brushed against yours, letting you taste the sweetness you had been imagining ever since you laid eyes on him on the rooftop. He swallowed the sound, the plump flesh of his bottom lip tightening into a pleased smile at your reaction.

Baekhyun pulled away first, lips leaving yours to trail across your cheek and down the side of your neck, where you felt the light graze of his teeth over the skin, and then the wetness of his tongue following the same path. His hands had snaked around you, fingers digging into the curve of your waist, keeping you in place while he nipped at you, drawing stilted gasps out of your parted mouth. When he pulled the flesh into the warmth of his mouth and sucked it to a nice, dark bruise, the heat coiling in the pit of your stomach flared, violent and hungry. 

You were going to lose your mind.

“You know, you could just try again,” you managed to get out between heaving breaths. “Ask me out.”

“Would you say yes?” he asked, and you felt his lips shape the words against your skin. They dragged back up the column of your throat, capturing your mouth again with another heated kiss that had your head spinning. He shifted, and your knees came to rest on either side of his leg, the firm muscles of his thigh pressing against the part of you that ached for his touch. In the haze of this moment, you didn’t know much, but you knew you would’ve said yes to absolutely anything to come out of that sweet, tempting mouth. 

Still, you played along, letting a devious smile pull the corners of your mouth upwards. “That depends on how tonight goes.”

He drew back slightly, fixing you with a wicked look that held promises he was nothing short of determined to fulfil. You could see yourself reflected in the darkness of his blown-out pupils, flushed and already wrecked just from the attention of his mouth. Anticipation and thrill jolted through you like lightning, zipping through every cell in your body as your mind drifted to what he might have in store behind those enticing eyes. 

You weren’t left wondering for long. His hands left your waist and moved to your calf, pushing up the silken fabric of your dress as they slowly crept upwards, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The brush of his fingers against your inner thigh drew another shuddering breath out of you. 

His next words were not unlike an oath.

“Then I’d better make tonight fucking spectacular.”

[rrxnjun]

TAKE THE STAIRS ✲ n. jaemin

pairing. na jaemin x fem! reader starring. na jaemin, ning yizhuo genre. college au, strangers to lovers. fluff, comedy, suggestive. warnings. alcohol consumption, throwing up, swearing word count. 18k (18.666) a/n. thank you all so much for 1k followers! consider this fic a small gift of celebration

playlist. candy - baekhyun ; honey - l'arc en ciel ; take the stairs - coin ; cutie - coin ; rose-colored boy - paramore ; don't go yet - camila cabello ; hot crush lover - blu detiger ; teenage dream - 5sos (cover)

after having an unexpected guest witness the neverending quarrels with your roommate, na jaemin starts to practically live at your place— or— where yizhuo's flegmatic project partner starts to put a suspicious amout of effort into their assignment.

✲ PART 2 OF THE SIMPLIFY ROMANCE SERIES ✲

Hot droplets of water wash over you like raindrops during a heavy storm, the mirror fogging up at the hot temperature you always choose to shower your body in, fingers trailing through your hair making you finally relax after a long day at college. You spent the day presenting your project and having a test from Physics, so you only deserve a good shower. You would even consider taking a bath, but your small apartment doesn’t have a bathroom big enough to contain a bathtub, so a good, scorching hot shower will have to suffice. 

Now, you are a hard worker– however, you also like to wait until the last reasonable time to start working on your project. And while you’re best friends with procrastination, stress also decided to visit you for the time being; since, again, there was not much time for you to finish your project, and so in the whole process of working on it and doing extensive research about a topic you weren’t really that interested in in the first place, you forgot to take care of yourself. You wouldn’t even notice at first– not until one day when Yizhuo glared at you with questions in her eyes from the couch, seeing you go to the convenience store at 10pm with your home slippers still on because of your distracted mind– but when you looked at yourself in the mirror after arriving from school today, the image of your sweaty face and hair so oily you could probably fry a schnitzel on the extraction of the liquid from your follicles, you must admit that you’ve been neglecting your appearance for quite some time now, and so a well deserved annual everything-shower is the only thing on your mind right now.

Reaching over to the side of the shower that has various shelves installed, taking your hair conditioner into your palms and opening up the bottle, you get ready for the familiar smell of citrus that always hits your nose and makes you smile in satisfaction; yet, no matter how hard you try, the pleasant scent doesn’t come– and neither does the actual conditioner.

Huffing, even slapping the bottom of the bottle a few times, squeezing the tube as hard as you can– you tried everything, but to no use. Thinking back to the last few weeks, you try to remember when you bought the conditioner– because you swear it hasn’t been that long. There’s no way you already ran out, you think, as your eyes scan over the various bottles of other products in your shower, opting to use something your roommate has in stash– when you notice that there is no other hair conditioner in the shower, which makes the gears in your brain click in realization.

Sighing, you finish showering as you prepare your mental tangent in your brain. Drying off your body and slipping into your underwear, you put on the largest T-shirt you more often than not sleep in, not even bothering to put your hair up as you roughly scrunch it with your towel to get most of the water out, opting to leave the strands lay on your shoulders instead, in their full wet, naked mole rat glory. 

Swinging the door to the bathroom open, you yell out the first sentence that comes to your mind– despite planning your outburst in your head beforehand. 

“Ning Yizhuo! You used up all of my fucking hair conditioner again!” you scream into the apartment, knowing damn well that the walls are thin and she can hear you. “You promised you won’t use it after the last time! That shit is fucking expensive, y’know,” you mutter, voice still raised so your roommate can hear you.

“I’ll buy you a new one, chill out,” Yizhuo finally replies, her voice coming out of your living room. Your head snaps that way, feet dangling closer into the doorway.

“Yeah, well, maybe consider buying your own conditioner so you don’t have to replace mine every other week,” you spit, rolling your eyes in annoyance, “or at least buy a new one when it runs out, so I can actually use– oh.”

Stopping mid-sentence, your sudden outburst of anger is cut short as you notice another presence in the living room. There’s a man sitting on your sofa, his head turned towards you, flashing you an amused grin, and when his eyes scan you from head to toe, you’re suddenly painfully aware of your current state– only in your panties, with your hair wet, appearing as a chicken left outside in the rain, the wetness of your locks most likely dampening the thin fabric of your shirt to the point that it’s basically see through, revealing more to the stranger than you’d like. Crossing your arms at your chest, alert, you feel heat rising to your cheeks as your eyes jump from your roommate to the stranger in your living room, textbooks and an opened laptop scattered across the coffee table, making you believe it must be your roommate’s classmate of some sort. 

“Okay, I’m sorry,” she sighs and rolls her eyes, looking at you with amusement when she notices your distressed state, “this is Jaemin, by the way. We’re doing a project together.”

Humming, you look at the man again, taking a notice of his casual, yet attractive demeanor. Black bangs falling into his eyes and Adidas joggers hugging his legs, you press your lips into a thin line– somewhat resembling an embarrassed smile, before you slowly walk out of the room for the sake of their privacy and also your dignity. “Nice to meet you,” you mumble on your way out, “I’m Y/N.”

And before you’re out of the door, you turn your head towards your roommate again, biting back an ironic smile. “How nice of you to notify me that we’ll have guests over!” 

With that, you’re out.

You guess that embarrassing yourself in front of Na Jaemin is how life is going to go now. Don’t get me wrong– the next time it happened, you were notified of his visit; after screaming at Yizhuo about how she handled it the last time around– and you even put some effort into your appearance, as if to balance the absolute atrocity he had to deal with the first time he laid his eyes on you. Not that you really care about his opinion, or that you want him to think you’re at least a little bit attractive, of course. You’d say this is just the basic human need to look presentable in front of people you don’t even know that well.

While you were notified about the fact that he would come over in the afternoon to work on the project, you still didn’t have it in you to just casually walk over to the living room and hang out with them, though. On top of that, they were doing a project in Neurophysiology together– and no matter how much laughter and noise you heard from the living room, where the two crashed for the time being, you still didn’t think it was okay for you to intrude to say hi to the man, or find enough courage to just hang out in the room with them, enjoying their talks and quarrel. It wasn’t the same as when you were doing a project with Minjeong from your Biology class or when Yizhuo had a few assignments to do with your mutual friend Jimin, the three of you working on your own stuff in your spacious living room, while also talking gossip and laughing about the latest fashion trends on Tiktok together. 

But sitting in your room on a Wednesday evening, completely alone; because your roommate was busy working on a project and none of your other friends– not even the online ones– were there to entertain you with their talks, you had nothing to do. The only thing you could come up with while trying to entertain yourself was to watch the latest season of The Great British Bake Off, your legs swiftly moving you towards your table, where your laptop lay untouched, opening it and turning on the show. 

Everyone knows that feeling of desiring something they see on the screen of the show they’re currently watching, right? The feeling only intensifies when it comes to food– delicious food, on top of that– and suddenly, you’re no stranger to the cravings in your stomach as you watch the contestants cut slices of cakes and taste the sweet, tasty pastries and doughs. Maybe you could look around your room and find something to eat to satisfy those needs, but something is telling you that the secret stash of M&M’s you had hidden in your room, away from the eyes of Ning Yizhuo– the resident M&M lover– was now long empty, the image of the packaging thrown in the trash can now vivid in your brain. 

But the more you keep watching, the more you crave something sweet, and you know that if you don’t stand up from your place at the table and walk over to the snack cupboard in the kitchen, you’ll go insane. And with this knowledge, you take a deep breath in and out, trying to find some courage in you to show your face to your roommate and her new friend; your hand is soon on the door click and you almost watch yourself from the third perspective as your socked feet stumble out of the safety of your own room, bringing you towards the living room where the two of them have been sitting, intending to pass by them and silently take some sweets from the kitchen.

“Hi Y/N!” the man greets you, almost making you jump up and bump into the TV on the right side of the living room. Na Jaemin has a contagious smile on his face, and while you vividly remember greeting him when he arrived, just seconds before closing the door to your room, you still greet him again, trying hard to maintain the same amount of enthusiasm as him.

The conversation doesn’t progress much from that, the two of them too busy reading some article on Yizhuo’s laptop that’s currently sitting on one of each of their thighs, rimmed glasses adoring your roommate’s face, and you allow yourself to complete your mission as you walk over to the kitchen that connects to the room. 

Reaching over to the kitchen cabinet that is designated to hold all sorts of various snacks both you and your roommate love to eat and share on movie nights, you search over the stash and try to find something that fits your cravings perfectly. Eyes scanning over Skittles, some chocolate bars and even a bag of chips, you decide to take all of them– because you never know, sometimes you have the strange desire to chase down the sweetness with some salt– and also look over the room for a drink you could take with you, since you’ve gotten a bit thirsty over the course of the last few hours you spent camping in your room.

Holding all of the items in your arms, looking as if you’ve just done a grocery run and forgot to take a bag with you, you almost don’t see the floor below your feet as you walk– no, scratch that– you literally do not see the ground below your feet at all. 

We mentioned you embarrassing yourself in front of Na Jaemin again at the very beginning of this scene. You may be wondering where that part comes to play– and let me tell you, the moment is now, and it has correlation with the sheer fact that you can’t see where you’re walking and you’re also rushing to get back to your room quickly, hide yourself away from their eyes and finish the episode of bake-off while munching on the party mix of snacks you’re planning on creating.

In your true fashion, considering all the variables of the situation you found yourself in right now, the ground is suddenly swept from beneath your feet as you trip over the door sill that separates the kitchen from the living room, your body falling to the ground with all the snacks in your hands and the bottle of Diet coke secured under your shoulder.

Desperate to keep the snacks intact, you don’t even drop the bag of chips to the floor before you fall to make some room in your palms to try to soften the fall. No, you fall down like a rag doll, face first to the laminated floor, the sound of your body hitting the ground resonating through both your brain and the whole apartment. A few seconds later, the sound of a bottle rolling across the length of the living room fills your ears and you feel a sharp pain in your side, the humiliation and growing stinginess in your knees fully hitting now, when the shock is gone.

A few seconds pass, with your body lying limp on the ground– not even from the pain, just from the sheer embarrassment of the thought of facing Na Jaemin again after this– and a sound of your roommate trying to bite back her laughter fills your ears when you finally wake up and wiggle a little on the floor, trying to get up. At least the bag of chips stayed intact, you think– all of the effort was worth it in the end… or at least you hope.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” the now familiar voice of Na Jaemin fills your ears, and while he does sound a little concerned, laughter fills his voice when the touch of his hand lands on your elbow, trying to help you stand up from your fatal position.

“I’m perfectly fine, yeah,” you nod as you suppress back a scowl, the amused look that meets your eyes once you turn your head to face your visitor that took it upon himself to help you up making you feel all sorts of emotions– humiliation, however, is winning by a mile. 

“Are you hurt?” he giggles out, and the question almost sounds mocking with how his face breaks out into a pained scowl, seemingly trying to hide the clear grin wanting to settle on his handsome face.

“No,” you shake your head vigorously, tears rimming your eyes from the mix of embarrassment and the sharp stinginess in your knees– you’re sure there’s gonna be a big, purple bruise forming on your legs by tomorrow morning. “I’m okay.”

In that very moment, Yizhuo finally breaks out into laughter– as if she was really waiting for you to stand up, in case you fell dead and she would then have to feel guilty for laughing at your falling corpse– and the absurdity of it all makes you join them, the caring man no longer trying to bite back his amusement either as he softly brushes his hand over your arm before he leans down and picks up the bottle of coke that rolled all the way to the corner of the room and the pack of Skittles that managed to fall from your strong grasp. 

“Here you go,” he says, shaking his head at you when he sees you still holding the bag of chips to your chest. “Damn, you guarded those chips with your whole life, didn’t you?”

Nodding, you snicker. “I put my whole life on the line for these.”

Accompanied by their amused giggles, alongside with Yizhuo’s pained sigh as she wipes her cheeks from the stray tears you caused with your comedic fall, you take the snacks Jaemin’s offering you, thanking him for the help as you escape the room with a final bow to end your performance.

“I was glad to be your fun little commercial break, but I’ll get going now,” you say, “good luck with the project!”

And with that, you disappear back into your room, setting your mind to never ever show your face in front of Na Jaemin again.

While you thought your resolution of never ever wanting to see Na Jaemin again out of the embarrassment your first and second encounter cost you, it seems to be that it’s easier said than done when you end up in Liu Yangyang’s basement, the whole place smelling of weed and cheap alcohol, standing right opposite of the man that haunts you in your darkest nightmares only a few days after the initial meeting. 

There is a reflex in you that makes you want to turn on your heel and hide, maybe even bury yourself alive as you recognise the raven-haired boy, his bright grin making your stomach twist uncontrollably as he comes up to you and Yizhuo, a red single cup in his hand and a leather jacket adorning his shoulders. Something inside of you is telling you to get ready for the worst possible outcome of this situation, and you don’t know why your fight or flight instinct is so alert today, but you presume that Na Jaemin just has that effect on people as your roommate hides behind you and tries to get out of her project partner’s sight.

“Hello, ladies!” the man greets you as soon as he reaches you two– with Yizhuo still tugging herself behind your figure. “Didn’t expect to see you two here!”

Smiling, although a little tight-lipped, you turn around to finally reveal your roommate– the only reason why you’re in this disgustingly-smelling basement in the first place. It’s not like you don’t have friends– you do, it’s just that most of them aren’t actually your friends. They are Yizhuo’s friends, who just happen to be your friends, because your roommate decided that because you two are best friends, she needs to drag you everywhere with her– her love language, it seems– and that’s how you always end up in the same social circles. 

Her dragging you around to places also applies to her weird first meetings with guys. And while you agree with the fact that she needs to be careful around new people– men, especially– so she doesn’t get stolen for human trafficking, you’ve been to enough cringey first dates with her to know that you should start saying no to her more often. Maybe tonight was the day you should’ve started, you think– as she asked you if you wanted to go to a party with her, since Jung Sungchan invited her– and while you could argue that a party in Liu Yangyang’s basement isn’t the best place for a first date, or that there’s no use in you being there in the first place, since other people are present, you agreed; because frankly speaking, everything’s better than sitting home alone and watching Netflix. Besides, you promised Yizhuo you wouldn’t watch the new episodes of Blue lock without her, and if you were left unsupervised, you know you’d break that plea– so here you are. Even though at this very moment, you deeply wish you weren’t.

“Yeah, me neither,” you mumble as your roommate, seemingly embarrassed to be caught hanging out with Na Jaemin’s acquaintance, slowly comes up from behind you, scratching the back of her neck in embarrassment. “Yizhuo here has a date with someone, so I was forced to third-wheel,” you muse, earning yourself a slap to your shoulder from the subject of the sentence.

Jaemin’s eyes widen to twice of their original size– a shock very evident in his features– and you wish you didn’t see him so taken aback at the fact that your insanely beautiful roommate was getting invited to dates left and right, because something about it makes your stomach acid boil in a weird way. “A date with who?”

“Whom,” you mumble, nit-picky at the correct grammar. 

“Huh?”

“With whom,” you repeat yourself, seeing as Jaemin shakes his head in disbelief and chuckles.

“Okay, literature major,” he rolls his eyes and averts his attention back to your roommate, the comment making you furrow your brows for two things– one, correct grammar has nothing to do with literature and two, how the fuck does he even know your major in the first place, “you have a date with whom? Because I hope it’s not Beomgyu. He lies about his age.”

Hearing a sigh escape your roommate’s lips, you watch the interaction with uttermost interest. “No,” she mumbles, “it’s Sungchan, actually.”

“You’re having a date… at a frat party?”

You chuckle at the comment. At least someone has common sense here.

“Unfortunately, yeah,” Yizhuo notes, seeing as Jaemin empathetically nods at her and smoothes a hand down her back before he nudges her in the direction of the tall boy. Watching her leave, you mentally pray for her to come back and never leave you alone at a party where Na Jaemin is present– because quite frankly, you are very much okay with looking awkward in front of anyone else; be it strangers or the acquaintances slash distant friends you’ve made along the way on these gatherings– but when it’s Na Jaemin, the idea of him seeing you aimlessly walk around and try to invite yourself to conversations with people you distantly know makes you want to crawl out of your own skin and set it on fire.

Sighing purposelessly, looking around to see if you recognise anyone that you could find a safe harbor in at least for a couple of hours before you look for Yizhuo again and drag her home, you notice the boy not leaving your side. Locking your eyes with him, you hear him clear his throat before speaking up again. 

“It’s actually so good to see you here, because we were about to play beer pong and you’re just the person I need for my team,” he says, offering you his signature grin. 

Finding the last bits of your sanity, you shake your head. “Oh, you don’t want to play beer pong with me.”

“Why?”

“I’m no good,” you admit, scratching the back of your neck, “I’m like, the least athletic person in this room. And I also can’t handle my liquor well.”

Jaemin only rolls his eyes in annoyance at your comments, gently shoving you towards the direction of a large ping-pong table in one of the corners of the spacious basement. The game is already prepared, a pair consisting of a tall, ripped man with an adorable eye-smile and a person that gets introduced to you as his best friend waiting for someone to join them. 

“Come on, I bet you can outdrink me,” Jaemin jokes, basically forcing you to the game as he hosts a ping-pong ball into your hold, looking at you with expecting eyes. 

This evening is the moment where you learn that Na Jaemin is a man of many talents; the first one you find is his irresistible puppy look that makes you comply with everything he says. You don’t know how people have it in them to say no to him, but when he’s ushering you to take the first shoot towards the cups on the other side of the table, you only nod and sigh in the image of what’s gonna be your hangover in the morning.

Leaning back a little, feeling like a true Lebron James about to take his winning score, you aim for the plastic cups and throw the little white ball into space. You haven’t even taken a drink yet, but the ball goes where it wants and not where you want it to go, the small object hitting the floor instead, making your companion shake his head at you and click his tongue.

“I told you I’m bad,” you defend yourself, throwing your hands into the air in a defensive position.

“All good with me,” Jaemin grins, “I’m like, the least competitive person in this room. So as long as neither of us end up throwing up in Liu Yangyang’s backyard, I’m okay with losing this game.”

Rolling your eyes at his nature, refusing to relax even after his roommate Jeno– the boy on the other side of the table– scores and hits two cups in a row, each one of you drinking one, the bitter taste of beer falling down your throat, you find the second of Na Jaemin’s many talents. It’s playing beer pong– and even though he almost never misses, your opponent’s side is much quicker with their game and you end up drinking most of the cups in an apology for being so shitty at the game.

“Come on! You can do it,” you hear Jaemin cheer for you from beside you, your glossy eyes scanning over his figure. You’ve drunk quite a lot now, your distance-assuming abilities thrown out of the window as you reach back to throw the last shoot, body getting out of balance and threatening to meet the ground in the laws of gravity. 

Jaemin’s hands quickly shoot up to steady you, a hesitant hand reaching to your waist as he giggles in your ear, and suddenly, you wonder if it’s been this hot in the room the whole time, when your hand lets go and the ball falls carelessly to the middle of the table.

And when you take at least two shots with Jaemin and his roommate, the game long forgotten as you two lost, you find yourself in Liu Yangyang’s backyard, Na Jaemin’s talent of being an absolute gentleman shining through as he holds your hair back for you when you throw up into the bushes.

“Okay, so… you can’t outdrink me. Noted,” the man hums, a gentle pat to your back sending shivers down your spine.

And with that, you swear you’re never going to show your face in front of Na Jaemin ever again. For the third time, yes. 

At least the third time’s the charm…?

The sun greets you in the morning with an aggressive shine to your eyes, reminding you of the actions of yesterday evening slash very late night. There’s only one reason why your blinds aren’t shut in the morning, since you hate waking up to the hot beams of sunlight in your eyes– they always make you sweat and don’t let you continue in your quiet somber– and the reason is that you must’ve been too drunk yesterday to remember to close them. 

And sure enough, once you open your eyes with a grunt and tumble in your sheets, the memories of yesterday evening flood into your brain the same way water did to your room when your ex-roommate Yeri forgot to turn off the water in the bathtub in your Freshman year. You decided to not live with the girl since, and you also quite loved the idea of not having a bathtub in your new place with Yizhuo; at least it meant that the chance of your roommate forgetting to turn the faucet off and flooding the apartment was significantly lower– you could say this experience gave you some sort of PTSD.

When the sunlight gets too hot on your back that you can’t handle it anymore, you open the window to let some fresh air in and stumble into the kitchen, ready to drink a glass of water and forget about the last night’s party. You don’t usually drink that much– because god knows you don’t need a lot to get tipsy– but getting caught up in a drinking game was definitely your first, and while you found it quite fun at first, you would’ve never allowed yourself to play if it wasn’t for Na Jaemin, your roommate’s project partner, dragging you into this mess. 

At least Yizhuo is a good drinker, for the most part. She gets drunk, but stays responsible. You don’t know how you’d get home safe if it wasn’t for the responsible girl by your side.

The sight that meets your eye in the kitchen is one you would not want to see after a night out. The sink is full of dirty dishes– because your small apartment doesn’t have a dishwasher– and when you open the cupboard for an empty glass to fill with water, you find it empty, all of them used and unwashed in the silver basin.

Heaving out a sigh, you shake your head in disappointment and get mentally prepared to do the dishes. Reminded by the fact that it was you who cooked dinner last night before heading out to the party, it was Yizhuo’s turn to wash up– you two agreed on this arrangement to make sure everyone puts a hand in when it comes to household chores. If one of you is cooking a shared meal, the other one cleans up. It was a good deal, you got used to it fairly quickly, but still, your roommate has her flaws, and sticking to the rules you two made up together is surely one of them. 

“Yizhuo! It was your turn to wash the dishes last night!” you yell out, not really caring that she’s most likely still asleep, as you turn on the faucet and get to work. While it was your roommate’s turn to clean up, you’re also not willing to wait for her until she gets up from bed and decides it’s a good time to complete the task, because truth be told, you really need some coffee right now and you only have two mugs in the whole apartment– both of them sitting at the bottom of the sink, dirty with last night’s tea. 

“I know we were in a rush to get to the party, but for god’s sake, if you had the audacity to be all up in my ear about how I’m taking too long to get ready, you could’ve used up that time to wash the fucking dishes, man!” you continue your small tangent, your slight anger issues getting the best out of you as you scrub the oily pan. “Now the food’s stuck on the plates and it won’t come off! I’ll quit cooking for you if you don’t clean up, I swear to god!” 

Sighing a little, you turn the water on and finally get to washing off the dish soap, shaking your head a little in both disbelief and unpleasant emotions filling your insides. This is not how you imagined your day to go, and soon enough, your stomach is growling with the need of food– you two have slept in until lunchtime– and you still don’t have either the energy to cook something again, or the appliances to do so. Hearing footsteps fill the small room, not bothering to even look at the source of them, you decide to continue your little rant with the premise of your roommate finally listening to it now that she’s present in the room.

“Fancy seeing you here, dear Yizhuo,” you mutter under your nose, irony filling your voice, “good to finally see you in the kitchen, now that I’m done with the dishes,” you grunt, turning the water off and wiping your hands on the kitchen towel that’s been hanging off the counter.

“Man, living with you must really suck, Ning,” you hear a male voice joke, the familiarity of it making you jump in your place as you look at the source of it, a little bit panicked.

His face looks fresh and lively– not a sign of last night’s drinking in his features– and his hands are full with two bags of takeout that he swiftly sits on the table, his figure now awkwardly standing in the corner of the room. Yizhuo is leaning on one of the chairs, eyes a little empty and tired, as if she has just woken up from deep sleep, her hair a mess on the top of her head and her pajamas still on. God knows neither of you look ready for a visitor– a male one, on top of that– and yet, there is still one standing in your kitchen right now, voice sing-songy and body dressed in athleisure, as if he’s just came out of his morning gym session. 

Which he probably has. He seems like the type.

“What are you doing here?” Yizhuo beats you to the question, your eyes jumping from her figure to your morning– well, lunch time– visitor.

“What do you mean, what am I doing here? We’re working on our project today, Yizhuo, that’s what I’m doing here,” the man complains with an offended pout, almost a scolding tone to his voice that makes you look at your roommate with shock in her eyes. She knew she’d be hungover today and still chose to work on the project? Is she truly out of her mind?

“I swear we didn’t have it scheduled for today, Jaemin-” she sighs as she straightens her back and looks at the male with irritation and a hint of exhaustion before he jumps in and shakes his head in disapproval.

“We did, I swear to god! You just forgot,” he shakes his head, satisfied when the girl is left speechless in the kitchen, his eyes drifting to you before he smiles and moves closer to the kitchen table, opening up the boxes of takeout and offering you a proud nod. “I knew you two  would be tired today, so I brought some chinese with me! We can have lunch and then get right to working!”

The enthusiasm spreading off his features is almost contagious– you swear it would be, if it wasn’t for the fact that your head was severely aching and you still haven't had a single sip of water since you’ve woken up. Jaemin scrambles through your kitchen, totally uninvited, but also unstopped, until he finds some chopsticks and cutlery in one of the drawers and then puts them all in the middle of the dining table, acting as if he was at his own house, and not in a place he’s been to three times, including this one. 

“Well? What are you waiting for? It’s gonna get cold,” he chirps as he sits at the table and dives in one of the boxes, humming in satisfaction as the food hits his tongue.

Staring at the male, still not quite believing your eyes, but no longer feeling as humiliated in front of him when you realize that you embarrassing yourself in front of him is your habit by now, you only opt to a sigh as you sit at the table and taste the chinese, the noodles falling down your throat finally providing some comfort to your upset stomach. Jaemin smiles at you– the kind of smile where his eyes crinkle up into small moon crescents– with his full cheeks on display when you meet his eye, seemingly satisfied with his mission.

“Fucking hell,” you hear your roommate mutter as she escapes the room, seemingly to put some more presentable clothes on. Jaemin pays it no attention as he brightens up a little, pointing one of his chopsticks your way after he swallows and speaks up again.

“And hey! Thanks to me, you don’t even have to do the dishes now!” he exclaims, his proud face on full display making you stop in your tracks when you go to tell him that’s not true, since you still have to wash the reusable chopsticks you’re both holding in your hands, afraid of bursting his bubble as you only fakely smile at the male, nodding.

“That’s… great, Jaemin. Really nice.”

Walking across the school building, you find your stomach growling once again, the relief only spreading more on your insides when you realize that the last class of the day just ended and you are headed to the cafeteria to grab some lunch. Noting that it’s Tuesday and your schedules match with your best-friend-and-roommate-in-one’s today, you swiftly walk towards the crowded space and get the lunch with your school ID card, the cafeteria lady looking at you with a wobbly side-smile you only recognise to be her customer service demeanor washing off after the long day. Thanking her and scanning the room with your eyes, you quickly find your roommate waving at you from the corner of the room, calling you over with the motion of her hand. You’re actually excited to see her, until you notice another figure sitting right next to her– the figure being none other than the intruder of your home peace for the last few weeks. 

You’re seeing Na Jaemin quite a lot lately, you realize, and it’s not even your project partner to begin with. Not that you mind, of course; he’s a nice guy, a good-looking one as well, to say the least, but there’s just something about his constant close proximity to your roommate that makes your stomach drop whenever you see him in her presence. This feeling has been there for a while now, and if you recognised it in you, you never paid it much attention, but with him sticking to her like glue even outside of the premises of your apartment, it almost makes you turn on your heel and walk out of the cafeteria to eat your lunch alone– daring to even say it’s the better choice, for you think you could throw up any second at the image of their enthusiastic smiles. You can’t really put your finger on the feeling– you’re not really sure how to name it, or what to think of it. You just know that the strange annoyance bubbling inside of you whenever it comes is one of the most frustrating things you’ve ever dealt with your whole, entire life.

But it’s too late to walk out of the cafeteria now, and so you choose to put up a smile and walk over to the two, sitting at the vacant spot opposite of them and get to eating. 

“Hello,” Jaemin greets you, voice cheerful– does he ever feel down? –when you sit down with your tray and smile at the two. 

“Hi,” you nod, “what’s up?” 

“We were just talking about this thing on Friday,” he jumps in, looking at you from above his finished plate, Yizhuo nodding along to his conversation. She keeps chewing on her lunch as the man continues his speech. “My friend Taeyong’s in a band and they have a gig at the Neo bar, you know, the one in the center of the city…” 

You find yourself humming in interest, nodding along to the new information. You don’t think you’ve heard about Taeyong or his band before, but you only imagine it could be fun. “Are you going?” you ask, eyes jumping from your roommate to your new acquaintance slash friend, anticipating his response.

“Yeah,” he nods, averting his gaze from you for a moment, looking to his feet for a second as he clears his throat, “you should come too,” he adds when his eyes meet yours again, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

Halting a little in your movement, you look at your roommate again. See, Yizhuo is just the perfect girl you’d invite to see your friend’s band. She’s outgoing, loud, the life of the party, and also has an amazing alcohol tolerance– perfect to match the boy in front of you. There’s no reason for Na Jaemin to be inviting you as well, and you presume it’s the way his personality naturally is– considerate and warm– that it doesn’t let him just leave you out of the conversation and let you stay home. He’d probably feel too bad if he didn’t invite you, that’s all.

But the more you stare at the two, noticing the familiar way Jaemin’s body leans into your roommate’s for support, the two of them growing quite close in the process of working on the project– she even trailed into his apartment a few times to work there instead, because you had exams to study for and she wanted to leave the apartment silent for you to focus better– and the more you feel the familiar feeling deep within your chest, bugging you with thoughts resonating through your brain that tell you that you’ll just be a burden if you go and that the two of them will have much more fun together if they’re alone anyways, since Jaemin is clearly interested in your roommate. The voice in your head doesn’t leave, and you get so caught up in listening to it that you zone out, only to be woken up from your state of autopilot with a soft nudge to your shin under the table.

“So? What do you say?” he asks again, raising his eyebrows at you in question, eyes wide with anticipation.

“Oh,” you let out, hesitant as you poke your fork into the slice of meat on your plate, “I’m good, thanks. I wouldn’t wanna… you know… intrude? Or something?” you say, nodding to yourself as you’re afraid to meet his eye, opting to stare into your meal instead.

“What are you talking about? Of course you won’t intrude, I’m the one who invited you,” he mutters under his nose, tone of voice close to a mother’s scolding, insistent on his words. “Come on, it will be fun!”

“Really, I-” you open your mouth to decline again, when the male sulks in his seat and turns to your roommate for help.

“Yizhuo, help me, would you?” he grunts. “Tell your roommate this is the best idea you’ve ever heard, maybe she’ll listen to you, since she clearly doesn’t trust me.”

Snickering at his offended pout, you roll your eyes in mock annoyance when your best friend finally speaks up for the first time since you sat at the table, now finished with her lunch and free to talk to you both. “I think it would be nice, Y/N,” she says casually, nodding, “besides, I bet the band guys will be hot. Maybe Jaem can hook us up with one of them, what do you say?” she says, looking at him with a teasing glint in her eye, dismissed by the male with a scoff and a wave of his hand.

“You wouldn’t want that,” he mumbles, “not saying they’re not hot, but they’re insufferable. And a little bit stupid.”

“You say that about your friends?” you grin, seeing as the male shrugs to himself.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “hanging out with them makes me feel better about myself.” 

Giggling at the remark, you finish your food and stare at him with dumbfoundance in your eyes. “You’re unbelievable, Na Jaemin.” 

“Mhm, whatever,” he hums, grinning, before he looks at the screen of his phone and his face scrunches up in horror. His figure stands up in hurry, slinging his backpack over his shoulder before he looks at the both of you, eyes drifting from your roommate to you in a sharp 0.2 second interval, pointing a finger at your sitting body. “I take it as I’ll see you there. I have a class in literally 5-” he says as he looks at his phone again, “no, 4 minutes, so I better get going. I’ll text the address to Yizhuo in case you two can’t find it, and don’t even think of not showing up, okay?”

Sighing in fake annoyance, you shake your head in disbelief as the man strides off, black hair flowing in the breeze as his figure jogs out of the crowded cafeteria. 

You’re starting to think that Na Jaemin is actually the insufferable one. But as he made it clear that he might get mad at you if you don’t go, even though it might make the annoying voice in your head only scream at you louder if you see him and your roommate sway in the cigarette smoke, dancing together in the local bar, you take a mental note to check your journal and see if you have any plans on Friday, and if you do, to quickly cancel them.

The mental image you had of the concert in your head was mostly right. When you arrive at the local bar at 9 in the evening, the whole place is filled with cigarette smoke and the loud noise of guitars is making your ears ring a little when you try to listen to the lyrics. It’s not really your cup of tea, but the lead singer looks nice– you heard some girls in the front screaming his name; Yuta, if you weren’t wrong– and you find yourself dancing along to the beat of songs you’ve never even heard before. 

Everything’s just like you imagined– smiley, flushed faces in the crowd, sweaty bodies pressed against each other in the small space that the bar provides, everything just perfect to scare a person with claustrophobic tendencies. Everything except from the small voice in your head telling you that you’ll be the third wheel tonight was right, and you find yourself thanking whatever inner motives that lead you to agree with Na Jaemin’s invitation, because when the small break the band had ends and you down the beer he bought for you and Yizhuo, the male is, to your surprise, tugging you to the dance floor. This is not really second female lead of you, you think as you sway under the neon lights of the bar; and you can’t say you hate it.

“Please tell your roommate to not get on with the boy she’s currently dancing with when you two get home,” Jaemin mutters into your ear through the music, and suddenly, the illusion’s over. Of course his eyes would be on your breathtaking, wonderful roommate– there was no way you’d have his full attention while he dances with you, no matter how much effort you put into your appearance tonight. You don’t know what it is that makes you finally admit to yourself that you’re endlessly yearning for male attention and validation– especially Na Jaemin’s, the casual heartthrob’s– but you’re willing to say it’s the effect of alcohol as you furrow your brows at him and lean closer to his face to hear him better as you two talk over the loud set.

“Why?”

“He’s insanely stupid,” he says, snickering, “and I also think he’d love to move into your apartment the first chance he gets. I’m pretty sure his roommate kicked him out last month because he wasn’t paying rent.”

“Well, aren’t you at our apartment all the time as well?” you squint at him, seeing as the male rolls his eyes at you in mock annoyance, the teasing getting to him. 

“That’s because I have to,” he insists, grinning under the blue light shading his features, the hue making him look like he was cut out of a teenage movie.

Shaking your head in disbelief at the gossip, you find yourself yelling over the music again. “How do you even know all of that?” you ask, desperate to know the source of all information there is about the men on your campus.

“His roommate told me himself,” Jaemin says, “I used to play soccer with him in high school.”

“You have too many contacts,” you mutter, seeing as the male shrugs at you, taking your hand in his as he twirls you in your place, the music blending into a slower rhythm, the melody more solemn and relaxed. 

“What can I say,” he grins, “I’m irresistible. Everyone wants to be my friend.”

Not even having a chance to reply a snarky comment back to him, the male suddenly brings you closer to him, taking all air out of your lungs. His strong arms are now pressed around your middle, causing you to almost automatically sneak your arms around his neck– you truly don’t know what brought you to these actions, you think it’s you working on auto-pilot after doing competitive dancing for 5 years when you were little that makes you get into position almost immediately in fear of your instructor screaming at you– and the neon lights now start slowly flashing through various colors, reminding you of disco balls you have at middle school formals. The lead singer sings a romantic song, his raspy, yet unique voice cutting through the speakers right into your poor, fragile heart, and Jaemin steps with you into a loose dance, just two bodies swinging to the music, catching their breath after jumping around to the rhythmic beats for so long. 

In a moment full of embarrassing self-indulgence, you look at the boy with long eyelashes staring down at you, and you wonder if he finds joy in your company. He is that type of guy you’d naturally gravitate towards– charming and nonchalant, extremely charismatic– but you, you are the exact opposite of those qualities. Socially awkward and embarrassing with your antics, thinking too much of words to say before you speak to someone, tense shoulders giving you in as you look nervous with every new person you meet. You’re not the type of person Na Jaemin would voluntarily want to hang out with– your roommate is the one he should be dancing with right now, swaying to the slow beat. 

And maybe he would be, if that other guy wasn’t faster than him at earning her attention.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks, leaning in closer to your ear, because even though the song is slower, it’s still as loud as the previous ones. Shivers run down your spine when his breath fans your heated skin, and you find yourself nodding in response. 

“It’s fun,” you mumble, seeing him grin.

“See? Told you,” he sighs, “and you didn’t want to go!”

“I didn’t know what I was getting myself into, that’s all,” you say, smiling at his warm eyes. The thing about Na Jaemin is that he looks at everyone with eyes reminding you of pools of warm honey– with such a welcoming gaze it makes your knees buckle from the sweetness. He looks at everyone with such care it makes them think they perhaps mean the whole entire world to him, and that’s why you can’t bring yourself to think something more of the situation when his eyes meet yours and your eye contact is a battle of symphony. Because he looks at everyone like that. He looks at Yizhuo like that, that’s for sure. 

The man gently leads you into another turn, an amused giggle escaping his lips when you clumsily get back to his arms. You open your mouth to talk back to him, but before you manage to find words worthy of a good jab, the tempo of the song gets faster again and the drums once again ring loudly in your ears, the last tune of the set bringing an enthusiastic, energetic atmosphere into the small bar.

The rest of the evening comes by like a blur– you remember Jaemin ordering you a few more beers and introducing you to the band, the lead singer flashing you a grin you can’t quite decipher in your drunken haze. Your roommate hangs from the shoulder of the man Na Jaemin warned you about, and you find yourself despising the male even though you’ve never spoken to him– something inside of you trusts Jaemin’s judgment of men, it seems (he is one of them, after all. He knows what he’s talking about). 

You almost get mad at yourself for letting yourself drink too much again. It’s like once you start, you don’t know when to stop, and after all, who are you to say no when you’re not even the one paying for all the shots of alcohol? That wouldn’t be very smart of you, as a broke college student. You have to take everything that’s free, no matter how harmful to your health it might be.

Well, except from drugs. You wouldn’t take free crack cocaine even if you were offered.

But when you drink, you find Jaemin’s attention more on you– his caring eyes watching your steps when you walk, making sure you don’t trip over your feet and fall. His arms put his jacket around your shoulders when you stand outside of the club with the band, the raven haired lead singer offering you a cigarette your companion denies for you before you even have a chance to open your mouth, and his smiley face beams at you when he holds your face in his palms and asks you if you want to go home. And you can’t lie, you’re enjoying all the attention– even though it might be coming solely from the fact that he has to look after you like you’re a baby, because you pretty much turn into one when you’ve had something to drink, but still, you can’t find it in yourself to compose yourself and tune down the drinks. 

You’ll worry about the guilt when you wake up in the morning. Now is not the time. 

You nod to his question, though, because you must admit that you’re getting a little sleepy in your night adventures. Following him like a lost puppy, you watch him as he gathers your roommate from the bar, the three of you now walking down the street towards your block, Jaemin taking the side of the sidewalk that’s closer to the road, his careful eyes watching over your every step making you even more surprised by the fact that he doesn’t have an older sister in his family that would shape him into such a gentleman.

“Everyone, did you have fun tonight?” he asks like a kindergarten teacher somewhere towards the end of the seemingly never ending walk home.

“Yes!” you chant along with Yizhuo, giggles erupting along the neighborhood.

“And what did we learn tonight?” he asks again, making your roommate frown at the question.

“That soccer guys suck!”

“That I can’t handle my alcohol!” 

You both chime at the same time, making your companion nod, satisfied by both of your answers. Something about his sweet, scolding, yet patient tone makes your cheeks hurt from smiling when you two open up the front door to your apartment, your brain focused on listening to his small pep talk. “I hope you two take this as a learning experience and never make the same mistakes again! Alcohol is bad for your liver and broke soccer guys are bad for your wallet, but don’t you worry, I’m always here to remind you of such things when you forget.” 

“Yes, Mr Na– oh no the lift’s broken again!” Yizhuo whines when she walks up to the elevator, scowling at the button that doesn’t light up when she presses it, the platform stuck somewhere between the second and the third floor. Normally, you wouldn’t mind such inconvenience– you don’t go to the gym often and every time you carry your groceries upstairs, you think of it as a little workout, trying to train your brain into thinking how good your ass would look only if you took the stairs every day, but failing as you go for the lift every time it works– but tonight, drunk, dizzy and a little tired, you’re glad you don’t break into loud cries at the newly found information.

“No!” you yell out, almost falling to your knees when your roommate presses a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet– although tipsy, Yizhuo still shows much care about your neighbors, it seems. Crouching in front of the unresponding device, you shake your head in disapproval at the whole situation, suddenly feeling like the whole world is against you just because you’re drunk and have to walk up to the seventh floor.

“Come on, ladies,” Jaemin says, patiently waiting at the first step of many.

“Oh, I’m not going,” you shake your head, a pout sitting on your lips as you rest your head on the wall, “I’m sleeping here tonight.”

“Y/N, stop being ridiculous,” the man sighs, walking closer to you, but seeing as you don’t budge, he only crouches down to your level and pokes your cheek with his pointer finger, seemingly regretting inviting you to the bar tonight, “want to get on my back, then? I’ll carry you upstairs,” he asks, gentle parenting you in the process of getting you home.

And see, if you were sober and completely in tune with your emotions and thought process, you’d say no and just walk up the stairs by yourself. But that’s not your situation right now, when you’re drunk and kind of falling for your roommate’s project partner, and so you only nod at him with bright eyes and securely jump to his back, nuzzling your face into the crook of his shoulder as he walks up the stairs to the sixth floor with both of you, patient with your drunken stubbornness.

“See, girls, sometimes things don’t go as you plan. But in those situations, you have to make a new solution and try to come up with something that is going to work. Life’s a bitch and there will be many things in your way, but you always gotta find a way around your obstacles,” he mumbles somewhere between the third and the fourth floor, “the bus is late? You run to the class. You get a stain on your shirt? You tell everyone it’s supposed to be there and that it’s a fashion statement. Your friend doesn’t wanna go out with you? You bribe her with sexy band guys.” 

“And sometimes,” he says again, his tone of voice slowly lulling you to sleep, “the route you have to take might be harder than the one that failed. But that’s okay, because the end goal will be worth the trouble. The lift broke? Take the stairs, because at the end, there is a warm bed waiting for you in your apartment.”

You’re not sure where all of this wisdom is coming from, or how the hell his words are still coherent after so much physical exercise and also the amount of beers he had with his friends at the bar. You’re also not sure why he’s waffling so much– you bet it’s to pass time until he walks up to the seventh floor with your body on his back,

but you bet there’s a life lesson hidden somewhere in there.

The ringing of a doorbell is an unusual sound to your ears. You never have anyone use it, because frankly, you don’t even have that many friends in the first place, and the ones that do exist and come to hang out with you in your apartment always text you that they’re in front of the door instead, like everyone in the 21st century does nowadays. You don’t recognise this as the more practical method, but it’s the one that they all use, so you’ve gotten used to the fact over the time. The only people that use the doorbell are your landlord– because he loves to come check up on your apartment from time to time and then passively aggressively mention how there's a mess in your living room– and then Yizhuo’s friend Mark Lee that she met at the bistro she works at. They started hanging out and he’s the only one that actually picks her up at the door– as opposed to all of her other guy friends and dates that wait for her in the car. You think it’s sweet; the boy always wears a shy blush on his cheeks and nervously scratches his neck when you open the front door instead of your roommate and scream at Yizhuo that her date is here– to which she tells you that they’re not dating every single time, but you actually think you’re rooting for the adorable canadian, because after the men she chose to date before, you think she’s finally getting some sense into her head.

And so when the doorbell rings again, you get mentally prepared for either of those two outcomes. You don’t think it’s gonna be Mark Lee, because he always texts Yizhuo before hanging out with her and your temperamental roommate isn’t home yet– so the only reasonable option is your landlord Jinyoung, which makes shivers run down your spine as you pick up the mess scattered all around the floor in the entry hall and throw the stuff into the big closet at the right side of the wall, making sure it’s out of his sight.

Taking a deep breath in to collect yourself before the terror starts, you open the front door and put on your best fake smile, ready to face the wrinkled face of a middle aged man in a weird tracksuit– but to your surprise, there is one more person that can still use the ringbell on the door, and it’s none other than Na Jaemin. 

“Hi!” he smiles, a wide grin sitting at his face. He’s once again in his usual attire that consists of Adidas sweatpants and a mint green hoodie, the clothing acting like his default skin in the game of life, and you can’t help but let out a satisfied sigh at the fact that it’s not your landlord that you have to talk to today; although speaking to Na Jaemin after the last time you met him isn’t much easier than sparking up a conversation about the state of your rented place.

“Hello,” you drag out, humming to yourself as you press your lips into a thin line, “Yizhuo’s not here yet,” you say, trying your hardest to not meet his warm eyes. 

“Oh, I know! She texted me she’ll be late, but I was already on my way, so I figured I’ll just wait for her here,” he explains, naturally walking into your apartment as if he owned the place. And you don’t stop him– because frankly enough, you don’t have it in you to do anything else. And what would you even do? Let him stand outside?

And so, even though you weren’t prepared for a visitor today– because Yizhuo still hasn’t learned how to tell you that she’ll have people over– you walk along with him to the living room and see him invite himself to sit on the couch, body sprawled out all across the soft cushions. He seems like he lives here and not you– with how awkwardly you situate yourself on the other side of the sofa (he took your side– the one you picked the first day you moved in. Neither you nor Yizhuo ever sat on the other side ever since, it was an unwritten rule) and watch as he turns on the TV and scrolls through the channels. If this was anyone else, you’d find it inappropriate, rude even, but come on… it’s Na Jaemin we’re talking about. If he walks inside of your apartment and acts like he owns the place, who are you to tell him he doesn’t?

“You must really enjoy working on the project, if you’re around so often,” you mumble out, burdened by the fact that the silence between the two of you is slowly suffocating you out of the awkwardness of it all. One would say you wouldn’t know what awkwardness and shame is after embarrassing yourself in front of the man so much, but it’s quite the opposite, actually– as if the weight of it all was just packing on to each other, creating a big, heavy mess sitting on your shoulders, not letting you breathe.

“Oh, not really,” he says, turning his whole body and attention to you, eyes perking up at the sound of your voice, “I actually find it quite boring, if I’m being honest.”

Humming in response, you suddenly start to find the whole thing a little weird. Because if Jaemin doesn’t enjoy the project– and Yizhuo absolutely despises it too, or at least she told you she did– who in them has that much enthusiasm to meet up after school so often to work on it? If you were in their place, you’d just do it all in the span of a week. Projects you don’t like get lost somewhere in the back of your brain and you only remember them a few days before the due date, quickly scattering something and putting it on paper just so you don’t fail. Jaemin and Yizhuo, however, have worked on the project multiple times a week for the last two months, which is contradicting to the nature of your roommate in particular, because you know just how much she enjoys the art of procrastination as well.

“You must be really responsible, then,” you say, thinking this is the only possible solution– Na Jaemin doesn’t like the project, but he also doesn’t want to get a bad grade in it. That’s why he’s over at your flat multiple times a month, giggling with your roommate in the living room and working on the Neurophysiology essay that requires thorough research. That’s it– it must be.

“Well, I dunno about that,” Jaemin snickers, “this is my second time taking the class, actually. I failed it last year,” he grins, leaving you to stare at him with an opened mouth out of shock, the thoughts in your brain sprinting around like an itch you can’t really get to, making you shake your head in disbelief. This doesn’t sound like the words of someone who strives to get good grades in a subject– because if you had to retake a class, you’d be glad to just pass. Getting a good grade and putting in a lot of effort would be the last of your interests, especially after failing once– you’d have so much resentment for the subject you’d actually do the bare minimum, just to spite no one in particular but yourself.

You hum at that, at a loss for words. 

“Do you not like having me around?” Jaemin asks, suddenly, catching you off guard. Looking up at him, sharply turning your head, your wide eyes must have betrayed you, since your companion lets out an amused laugh. 

“That’s not it,” you try to save your skin, sighing, “I’m just wondering, that’s all.”

“So you don’t like having me around.”

“That’s not what I said!” you mourn out, suddenly scared of somehow offending the boy sitting in your living room. Being completely alone with him has been an emotional tsunami so far, having you praying and manifesting for your roommate to come back soon so you don’t have to deal with the pressure anymore. One moment, he has you all curious and guessing, the other one, he has you aimlessly trying to maintain an image you already lost the first second he saw you only dressed in a thin shirt with your wet hair staining the fabric, walking out the shower the first day he met you.

“Okay, so you’re saying you do like having me around?” he grins, the teasing glint in his smile driving you crazy, the weird turmoil on your insides almost making you stand up from your place on the sofa and running up against the wall. You bet that would bring you less pain and discomfort than having a conversation with him.

“Na Jaemin, you make me want to kill myself,” you mourn, draging your hands across your face in despair. Who would’ve thought that speaking to him all alone in your apartment could’ve been so much trouble? This is not at all how it went the night of the concert, but you’re willing to say that it was the effect of alcohol that made you get through the night. You can’t drink right now, in broad daylight, though– because that would legally make you an alcoholic.

“It’s okay, don’t worry. I wouldn’t be hanging around at your apartment so much if I didn’t like being around a certain someone that lives here either,” he says, matter-of-factly, as if the information didn’t just take all breath out of your lungs at the suggestion of something you pray your brain isn’t just misinterpreting in this very moment. Opening your mouth and closing it in a second, looking like a fish that’s been thrown out of the ocean and flapping around in the sand, you gape at the boy and furrow your brows, creating an ugly crease on your forehead that Yizhuo screamed at you about (she told you to stop making that face so often, because ‘it’s gonna ruin your skin and you’re gonna look old’. Like you can help it…).

“What do you even mean by tha–” you start, desperate for more explanation, when the door opens with a loud bang and your dear roommate finally marches up to the apartment with bangs sticking to her oily forehead and a frustrated frown on her face– choosing just the right moment to finally arrive, as if you haven’t been praying for this very moment for the last few minutes. 

“I’m never going back to that fucking bistro ever again. Can you believe it? Lee Jeno decided to take a day off and tell everyone twenty minutes before the end of my shift, so I had to work for two more hours before somebody could come to cover him. Who even does that? Is everything okay in his brain?” she screams, throwing her bag to the floor as she walks up into the living room, finding you two there. “Why am I even asking? Fuck, of course he’s not mentally okay. And then a rush hour began and I had to serve the rudest customer I’ve ever encountered, and don’t even let me started on that fucking grandpa that complained about the fries being cold when I just got them out of the frier!” 

Watching her little tantrum, you can’t help but giggle at your roommate. It’s an usual sight to you ever since she started working at the bistro, but Jaemin seems to be surprised at her temperamental outburst as he laughs at her like a maniac, watching her with mouth wide open and eyes twice their usual size, almost bursting out of their sockets.

“Don’t even try to start something today, Na Jaemin, or I’ll literally take a kitchen knife and slice your throat in half. Let’s get to this shit so I can shower,” Yizhuo says as she falls to the sofa with a loud thud, not even greeting neither of you before she kicks her hoodie off her body with an annoyed squeak.

You take this as your cue to leave– because if there is anyone else in the apartment that could be the person she can take it out on, you’re not willingly going to sit there and take her attention from them, sparing yourself for tonight. 

Jaemin’s words resonate in your brain as you stumble into your room. There’s a certain someone he enjoys being around in this apartment, and when you look over your shoulder and see him with Yizhuo’s sweaty hoodie hanging off his head– you don’t dare to ask how it got there or why it was there in the first place, hearing his hearty laugh– you feel a ping close to your heart. 

You don’t think you need an answer to the question anymore. How foolish of you to think it could be you.

When you went to college, you didn’t think you’d become the epitome of an average college student you see in movies and read about in Choi Minho fanfiction. Somewhere along the way, while keeping your assignments to the last possible day, living with a roommate that both gets on your nerves and makes you think you wouldn’t be able to survive without her by your side and going to more parties in a single semester than your whole entire life, you find yourself fitting all the criteria as you hang around your bedroom and get ready for what seems to be the biggest party you’ve ever set your foot in.

Your roommate is long gone now, and while you’d be frustrated by the fact that you were supposed to get to the party on your own, you don’t find yourself filled with rage when you remind yourself of the fact that this party is hosted by her cousin, Zhong Chenle, who took it upon himself to host the biggest birthday party of the century for his childhood best friend Park Jisung. Yizhuo was dragged to the big mansion to help with all the preparations, and while you sat around in class the whole morning, she spent the time with spamming you pictures of the place, coming from half-decorated to a fully, over-the-top, red solo cup crammed and loud music bearing building. The party starts at 8 and you’re set to leave in a bit, but there’s one issue that’s keeping you from hopping into the uber you’ve called for yourself– your dear roommate still hasn’t texted you the address, and with how fast the time is going and how she hasn’t replied to any of your messages since 6:25, you don’t think you’re getting a response any time soon.

And speaking honestly, you’ve made a list of rules for yourself. And you also set yourself to making sure you don’t break any of them. 

Rule number one was to not get home later than 2 in the morning. Every time you do, you hate yourself for it the next morning. Rule number two closely ties with the first one, stating that you’re not allowed to get hammered. With the amount of partying you’ve been getting yourself into, you think it’s better to save your liver before it’s too late. And rule number three– however embarrassing it must sound– is that you’re not allowed to embarrass yourself in front of Na Jaemin again. Not after he had to see you half naked, collect your broken body from the ground and carry you upstairs on his back. 

With how your evening’s going and you’re not not getting replies from the main organizator of the party herself, you don’t think you need the rule list at all, since it seems that you won’t even get to the party itself in the first place.

After many minutes of aimlessly scrolling through social media, dressed in the outfit you picked out yesterday, you are brought out of your dissociative episode with a ring on the doorbell. Cursing under your breath at the unwanted visitor, you open the door without much thought, the adrenaline in your veins caused by the fact that you might miss the party of the century making you not contemplate on the motion too much before you’re standing in front of Na Jaemin, unprepared and shocked to your core.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you ask, the words rolling off your tongue without much thought. 

“Good to see you too!” he chants, words dipped in irony, furrowing his brows in confusion before smiling in hesitance. “Yizhuo sent me to get you to the party.”

Blinking at him a few times, the situation downing on you, a shake of your head is performed to clear your mind. “She did what?”

“Yeah, it got a bit hectic over there and she didn’t have time to text you the address, so she told me to just come pick you up. Don’t worry, I haven’t drunk yet,” he says, the explanation making you huff out at the irresponsible nature of your roommate– because truly, how much time can a simple text take– before you put on your shoes and take the bag prepared on the ground close to the door, following the man out of the building and into his car.

Sliding into the silver Toyota Auris, only a few minutes pass before you’re strangled with the reality of being alone with Na Jaemin again, and even though this is not the first time, it still gives you just the slightest kick of adrenaline. Keeping up with conversation is harder for you than you would’ve imagined, and suddenly you’re regretting the fact that you don’t have at least a tiny bit of alcohol in you to kick some courage into your skull, but as the low melody of the radio hits your ears and your driver starts to singing along with the lyrics, using a silly voice that makes you crack up, you realize that maybe, after embarrassing yourself in front of him so much, you don’t even have to feel tense anymore. Because realistically, it can’t get much worse than this.

“You look really nice, by the way,” Jaemin smiles, making your heart run miles around your ribcage. Admittedly, you did spend a few hours picking out the perfect outfit in hopes of being recognized by someone– maybe even Jaemin himself, okay, you’ll admit that as well– but the accomplishment of actually hearing him compliment you still surprises you with great measures.

“Thanks,” you clear your throat, “you- you do too.”

“Oh, thank god,” he mumbles, sighing dramatically, “I actually had to buy some new clothes, because Jeno said I can’t attend this super fancy party in a tracksuit, but you know how it goes, shit’s expensive nowadays, and this was the only thing on sale, so I grabbed it,” he explains, going on a tangent, this mannerism of his making you break into a smile, “and I can’t lie, I think I kinda rock the style and I was hoping for a compliment of two from the ladies tonight, so I’m glad to hear this from yours truly first.”

Chuckling at his rambling, you shake your head in disbelief. “I think you’d look good in anything, Na Jaemin,” you tsk, “you have that kind of face that everyone likes.”

“Oh really?” he asks, the tone of his voice teasing. “So that means you like my face?”

“I’m not everyone, you know,” you bite back despite feeling heat rising to your cheeks, wanting to take back all the words that have come out of your mouth in the span of the last few seconds. 

“Now that’s hurting my feelings.”

“You care about my opinion that much?” 

“Of course,” he grunts, looking at you for a split second before he parks the car in front of a big house, already popping with people to its seams, loud music overbearing the beat of the music playing in the car. The ride wasn’t even that long– you live 15 minutes away from the wealthy neighborhood, it seems– but it's still good that you got a ride, because you don’t know how long you’re gonna last in those heels you’re wearing. “I can’t trust Yizhuo when it comes to these things. I’m convinced she hates me a little.”

“Why would she hate you?” you ask, amused.

“She always looks annoyed whenever I open my mouth,” he snickers.

“She’s like that with everyone,” you mutter, even though you remember your roommate complaining about the amount of words that Jaemin can spit in a minute just about yesterday, “it’s just her resting bitch face.”

The engine turns off and you turn around in the passenger seat to gather your bag from the back seat, where you carelessly threw it in the rush of getting to the party as soon as possible. Quickly looking through its contains– because your anxiety tells you to, just in case you somehow magically decided to leave your wallet and your keys back home, despite checking and making sure they’re there at least 8 times already– you turn back towards the front, ready to get out of the vehicle when you’re met with the sight of Na Jaemin opening the door for you like a gentleman, waiting for you to walk down the imaginary red carpet, completely ignoring the nature of the party going on just a few meters away from you.

Bashfully escaping his car and thanking him on your way, you watch him lock the car and catch up with you on the sidewalk, leading the both of you to the expensive-looking building. 

The song accompanying your arrival is now Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom!! by Vengaboys, and although you can’t deny the lyrics may be a little bit relatable to your current state right now, you can’t say the whole scene doesn’t look like a circus in your eyes. It’s Park Jisung’s birthday party, though, so you can’t say it doesn’t have to be a bit comedic, at least– the boy is quite known around these parts of the town. The whole place is filled with people you hardly know, and with the amount of teenagers and college students roaming around, you’re reminded a little of the fair– the only thing missing is a bouncy castle, in which you could clearly imagine Zhong Chenle with his best friend, hollering like the kids they still are, no matter how hard they’re trying to deny it.

Upon walking through the front door, you are met with the realization that Na Jaemin was abducted by a tall man with a puppy-like smile and another one, a little shorter one with brown, longer hair and a leather jacket adorning his figure. His face is screaming in despair, and although you find the expression funny, you let him be with his roommate and who seems to be his friend (you swear you saw the other guy in Yangyang’s basement, rolling a blunt with the boy somewhere in the middle of the night), deciding on finding your dear roommate so you can scream at her for being so irresponsible with your arrival to the party of the century. It takes you no longer than 15 minutes before you’re met with her strawberry blonde locks tied up in her signature bun, low-waisted jeans and a white crop-top adorning her figure that’s currently turned to you with her back, and before you can stop yourself, you approach her from behind, intending to scare her out of spite and also humor.

Shaking her by her shoulders, the girl turns to you with a sudden yelp before she bursts into laughter at seeing your face. “I thought you were that fucker Johnny! I almost threw this drink into your face, you know?���

“Oh, you’d regret that very soon if you did that,” you threaten, pointing a warning finger towards her face.

“Trust me, I know,” she giggles, shaking her head, “anyways, you got here!”

“Yeah, Jaemin picked me up,” you say, showing her a tight-lipped smile. 

“He… he did?” the girl asks, furrowing her eyebrows at you, confusion very clearly written on her face.

“You told him to…?” 

“No, I didn’t,” she shakes her head, snickering to herself. “I just told him to text you the address, because I was busy pouring all the drinks in the kitchen and making the speakers in the living room work…” she explains, the more words come out of her mouth, the more she breaks into a sly grin, the expression making you sigh in terror, knowing the amount of teasing that will come next.

“Why are you grinning like that? Stop it.”

“Na Jaemin likes youuuu,” she sing-songs, pointing a finger towards your forehead and digging into your skin with the sharp edge of her stiletto nail. Wincing away from her touch, you shake your head at her with a huff of frustration, wondering if she’s had enough to drink for it to cause all of this.

“He doesn’t, and we both know it.”

“Yeah, that’s why he picked you up,” she nods, before she takes a deep breath in, preparing herself for the long sentence that’s about to come out of her mouth, “and that’s why he insists on hanging out strictly over at our apartment, why he carried you up the stairs on his motherfucking back, why he bribed me just to get you to go to the concert with him, and why he won’t shut up about you literally every second the two of us are alone–”

“You know the same thing could suggest that he likes you?” you huff, roaming your hand through your hair in an attempt to soothe the weird bundle of nerves growing in your stomach. “He hangs out with you all the time, not me, you know…”

“That’s ‘cause you keep hiding in your room like a raccoon, you know.”

“That’s not true at all–”

“Okay, whatever you say. He’s coming towards us right now– so don’t look around or you’ll be too obvious– and I bet 100 pounds that he’s gonna drag you away from me and suggest you two play beer pong again, or whatever.”

“Yizhuo, I need you to shut the fuck–”

But before you’re able to finish your sentence, you feel a hand land on your shoulder, your whole figure spinning towards the source of the contact, finding a grinning Na Jaemin in your rear point of view– how unexpected, really– his body seemingly full of adrenaline as he jumps in his place, looking like a squirrel high on caffeine, his next sentence making your brain short-circuit as you hear Yizhuo snicker in your right ear, a bump on your shoulder and a shove into the male’s figure encouraging you in your movements out the room.

“Normally, I’d drag you to play beer pong with me again, but if I come back to the events that occurred the last time you got drunk, I have a suggestion that’s more considerate to your liver– wanna sing karaoke with me? You’re not allowed to say no, by the way,” and before you’re able to register what’s going on in this very moment, the conversation you two had with Yizhuo keeps repeating over and over in your brain the whole time you’re by Jaemin’s side.

Curse Ning Yizhuo for making you think he could like you at least a little– because even though he sang a corny love song with you at the karaoke machine and introduced you to his friends, along with taking you off your feet in an enthusiastic hug when you two won against his roommate and his best friend at a make-shift karaoke battle (you two got a 98 point score, just saying…), there’s a simple man called insecurity sitting soundly in the corner of your brain not letting you contemplate the fact and take it seriously, no matter how hard you try.

jaem [10:21]: hi how are you feeling!!! jaem [10:21]: was wondering if u wanted to get lunch :p jaem [10:21]:not that im assuming u have a hangover bc u hardly drank yesterday but yknow would be nice idk jaem [10:22]: theres this new pancake place in town :OO 

“You don’t look as bad as I expected!” Jaemin greets you as you two walk inside of the new bistro that opened not a long time ago– you only knew about it because Yizhuo hoped and prayed that the fact that there’s a new place in town will mean that less customers were going to show up at the one she’s working at, and you can’t say you don’t hate that logic. After hearing her stories about rude customers, you believe your roommate deserves a break. Working with people is hard– and as she said, you only realize just how stupid some of them can be when you truly start working in customer service.

“Ouch!” you utter out, your ego suddenly falling at the backhanded compliment.

“Not that you look bad, like, ever, I just– you usually look way worse after a party, you know,” he explains while opening the door for you and leading you towards one of the booths, the red sofas making the whole place look like a retro motorest you’d find somewhere on your way through the middle of nowhere. The polka dot walls only beg you to order a milkshake with your pancakes, and you do exactly that, feeling unapologetic in your actions. It’s not your fault– and you guess that you deserve to treat yourself to a nice chocolate swirl once in a while. 

“I didn’t drink as much last night, you know,” you snicker, remembering the fact that you actually pretty much managed to stick to your rules the whole time you were enjoying yourself at Park Jisung’s birthday party.

“Should’ve dragged you to one more game of beer pong, then.”

“So you do want me to suffer, huh?” you roll your eyes at him, resting your back at the flashy red booth to get a better look at his shifting expressions.

“It’s fun to see you embarrassed when you recollect your memory, that’s all,” he admits, kicking your leg under the table in a teasing manner.

Snickering at his comment, you hide your face in your hands at the growing embarrassment. Taking a deep breath in to hide your hesitance, you look outside your window for a short moment before you turn back to him, continuing on with the conversation before the moment gets too awkward for you to bear. “Yizhuo’s still asleep, by the way. She drank too much because Chenle got a bet with her and she was sure she could outdrink him and then the Mark guy had to carry her limp body to our house last night,” you explain, “she’s the one with a massive hangover right now, that’s why she’s not joining.”

“I see you two like princess treatment,” Jaemin teases, referring to the time he had to collect you and bring you home on his back, “besides, I invited you, not her. If she was here, she wouldn’t stop complaining about her headache, and I really don’t need that energy in my life right now.”

Laughing, you move your hands away from the table as a server brings you two your plates, filled to the brim with pancakes smothered in syrup and chocolate topping. A shiny cherry is adorning the serving, and you can already feel yourself salivating at the sight, the sweet smell filling your senses as you dig in, feeling hypnotized by the food in front of you. You are a sweets lover, and while you don’t know how Jaemin managed to do that, he hit the right spot with making you join him for a sweet lunch– making you adore the man even more, if that was even possible.

“Does it taste good?” Jaemin asks, watching as you nod to him with your mouth filled– as if the sight wasn’t enough of a confirmation to him– a hum of satisfaction slipping out of your vocal cords.

“It’s so good,” you mumble when you swallow, wiping your mouth with the napkin you found at the corner of the table. “Just what I needed right now.”

Jaemin finally digs into his own plate, a bright smile sitting at his face, and as you eat, you find yourself glancing his way from time to time. After all this time, you’re finally starting to realize just how relaxed you’re truly feeling right in this moment, despite having oily hair that’s tugged out of your way with a headband and only wearing your casual clothes, being too lazy to change your sweatpants for jeans and your hoodie for a fancier top. Jaemin just has something about him that once kept you on your toes, nerves tingling all in your insides, the same thing now making you calm and appreciative of his presence. Who would’ve thought that it would only take you two hanging out together the whole time of Park Jisung’s birthday party to finally feel relaxed and natural around each other?

Watching him as he takes a sip of his milkshake, you get surprised at his disgusted face. “What’s up?”

“I forgot I hate strawberries,” he notes, scratching the back of his neck as he battles the face of discomfort spreading over his features.

“And you ordered a strawberry milkshake… because you hate strawberries?” you snicker, laughing at his face.

“Well, I ordered it for the aesthetic, I suppose, but the fact that it’s actually gonna taste like strawberries kind of… escaped my brain for a sec,” he explains, making you shake your head in disbelief at him, offering the boy your own milkshake that you have yet to take a sip of.

“Want mine? It’s a banana one. I don’t mind strawberries,” you say, smiling at him encouragingly when he hesitantly eyes the tall glass.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course,” you say, nudging the milkshake towards him, seeing as he exchanges the straws and sets the pink drink in front of you with a grin full of gratitude. The man takes a sip out of your drink, his eyes instantly growing wide at the taste, nodding his head and closing his eyes in pure bliss.

“Now, this is perfect.”

Giggling at his expression, you finish your plate and sit in a comfortable silence as the boy in front of you does the same. Seeing as he’s done with his serving as well, both of your stomachs full of the delicious meal, you watch him as he clears his throat before speaking up again. “So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“You know, the usual,” you shrug, “check up on my roommate to see if she hasn’t died in her sleep, maybe try to wake her up in a way that doesn’t get me killed… Do the chores she was supposed to do because now she won’t stop complaining about her headache, and then watch the Spiderman movies, because I saw Tom Holland on my TikTok for you page the other day and suddenly got obsessed,” you explain, chuckling to yourself.

“No way!”

“What?” 

“I wanted to watch those too!” Jaemin exclaims, expression full of surprise and excitement, his face lighting up something inside of you that makes you speak before you even get a chance to contemplate your decision.

“Let’s watch it together, then!”

His face falls into disappointment, pursing his lips as he shakes his head, full of disappointment. “I can’t today, I promised Jeno to drive him to his grandma’s in the afternoon.”

“That’s okay, let’s just watch it some other day. I’ll wait with it for you,” you say, finishing the last of your milkshake, seeing as the boy’s eyes light up at your suggestion. 

“But what about your plans?”

“I can watch something else today,” you say, “maybe I’ll watch something with Yizhuo, so she forgets about her grumpy mood, you know.”

And with that, the plans are arranged. It all happens so quickly and spontaneously you can’t even let yourself process your actions, your brain only waking up when Jaemin pays for you at the counter despite your protests, deep voice full of teasing telling you that it’s okay and that it’s for all the snacks he’s eaten and will further eat while he’s over at your place.

“What do you mean it’s not on Netflix?” you hush, scrolling through the app popped up on the TV, clearly not showing any signs of the Spiderman movies. You could’ve sworn you’ve seen the movies on there when you were randomly scrolling through the service one day, not really interested in seeing them, but when it’s the time for you to actually watch the series, it’s nowhere to be seen, vanished from the face of the earth. It happens quite a lot with Netflix, actually– and while google may say the movie is available, when you open up the app yourself, it’s like you’re banned from seeing everything that’s there for the rest of the world to see.

“Well, we can just watch something else, then–”

“I am not watching anything else, Jaemin, we came here to watch Spiderman, so that’s what we’re doing,” you announce, rolling your eyes in annoyance. It’s not his fault– of course it isn’t– but the way he’s willing to give up on the movie so easily is making your blood boil. You’re no quitter when it comes to movies– either you get it on Netflix, or you do some digging (doesn’t matter if it takes you more time than the actual running time of the movie itself) and pirate it online. A few ads about hot singles in your area could never stop you when you’re about to watch something your soul has been searching for the last few weeks.

“We don’t have Disney plus, though,” the man squints, seemingly at the end with his solutions.

“We don’t need those paid streaming services,” you roll your eyes, shutting the TV off and getting your laptop from the bottom shelf of your coffee table, “let’s just find it online.”

Typing in your password and opening up the browser, a few searches of Spiderman online for free later, you’re able to find at least five sites with your desired movie in it. The only thing left for you to do is to check if it has subtitles– because when you watch a movie, all your listening comprehension abilities fly out of the window, no matter how fluent in the language you are– and see which one has the best quality. Settling on an ugly looking site with three ads covering the video window and another five around the corners, you smile to yourself, noticing as your companion only stares at you in awe. The look makes you feel like you just hacked the FBI site, and judging from his eyes, he’s admiring you as if you really did just show him the doings of Anonymous, but you only roll your eyes at him and snicker as you point towards your screen.

“Now we just click through 25 ads and pop-up windows and we’re there,” you nod, motioning towards the laptop, before a sound of the front door opening makes you jump up in surprise and halt in your movements.

Seeing as your roommate gets into the hall, seemingly out of breath and red in her face, carrying her tote bag scrunched up in the palm of her hand like a sack full of dog shit instead of the fashion statement it is, Yizhuo looks at you with furrowed eyebrows and a lost look on her face. “What’s Jaemin doing here?” 

The boy next to you huffs in offense, opening his mouth and chiming in his defense. “And what are you doing here? Did the three meters from the elevator to the front door tire you this much?”

“I live here!” she exclaims, throwing her arms up in the air. “And the lift is broken again, so I had to take the stairs. I don’t think we had a hangout scheduled today?” she asks, pointing towards her project partner with a lost look, seemingly annoyed at herself just in case she forgot about the study session and made other plans instead.

“No,” Jaemin gets out, shaking his head, “we didn’t.”

“Oh,” Yizhuo says, eyes drifting from him back to you and then from you back to him, before realization settles onto her face as she nods. “Oh,” she repeats, more exaggerated now, “I see how it is. Inviting Na Jaemin over when I’m not around…”

Heat rising to your cheeks, you speak up for the first time, completely ready to shield yourself from her slandering words. “Yeah, speaking of that, weren’t you supposed to be on your date with Mark?”

The girl smiles at you in irony, noting the choice of words, before she runs into her room and comes out with a purse instead, dropping her things into the new bag. Before she’s out of the flat again, she pops a head back into the living room, waving at you with one last goodbye. “I just had to take a different bag, since this kept falling off my shoulder. I’ll see you guys in the evening, and please, out of all places, don’t shag at the kitchen counter, at least–”

“Your date is waiting.”

“At least I admit that it’s a date, sweetie, so in your place, I’d shut my mouth,” she recites, tone laced with bitterness, “okay, bye, kiss kiss!” she says before the sound of the door loudly shutting pierces through your ears, leaving the two of you in complete silence.

Clearing your throat, deciding to not go back to the things that have come out of your roommate's mouth, you shift your focus back onto the laptop, awkwardly scratching your neck before speaking up. “Now that’s out of the way…” you mumble, “can you please try to get the movie playing? There will be about 75 ads popping up, you just need to patiently close each and every one of them and not play the porn games, okay?”

“Why would I–”

“I’m gonna make some popcorn in the meantime, since I imagine it’s gonna take a while. Oh and also, you can’t pause the movie, because that makes the whole process repeat and we’ll have to close all of the ads again, so when it’s done, just call me and I’ll be quick,” you finish explaining before disappearing into the kitchen area.

Rummaging through the cupboards, you finally acquire the popcorn you’ve been searching for. Plopping it into the microwave and setting the timer to approximately 3 minutes, you go on a search for more snacks– sweet ones this time, since chasing down the saltiness with a chocolate bar is your favorite activity to do after eating popcorn– and getting out some bowls to put everything into, preparing the things onto the kitchen counter.

Too absorbed in the noise of the corn popping in the microwave, you don’t notice footsteps approaching you in the small room, the voice of Na Jaemin scaring you to death. 

“I love these!” he exclaims, motioning to the M&M’s you just opened and poured into a bowl. His voice makes you turn back to him in surprise, adrenaline in your veins only heightening  when your face almost meets his chest, his body so close to your figure you can almost feel the heat radiating off his figure. Gasping at the close proximity, you react automatically and try to take a step back from him, but your back only meets the counter that somehow does nothing to support your frame as you back up to it, making you lose your balance and almost crash into the hard surface.

Jaemin’s arms shoot up quickly to steady you, one hand landing on your hip and another one gently catching the back of your head into his palm so you don’t meet with the upper drawers of the kitchen counter in a painful thud, the soft gesture making pools of honey gather in your stomach at the action. “Careful,” he snickers at your taken-aback posture, your hands aimlessly clutching the edge of the countertop.

“Well, maybe if you didn’t appear out of nowhere, I wouldn’t almost smash my head open out of surprise,” you mumble, eyes shifting from his face towards his chest instead, the so well-known feeling of curiosity and nerves you thought was long gone whenever you are around Jaemin approaching you again in great measures, keeping you up on your toes.

He only shrugs at your expression, not really offering you any more words, a chuckle escaping past his lips almost driving you to insanity. 

One of his arms– the one cradling the crown of your head– comes down around you and reaches into the sweets bowl, taking a few into his hold and dropping them onto his tongue. Chewing, with an overly-exaggerated hum of satisfaction, the man offers you the sweets and feeds you off his palm, the sugar melting on your tongue somehow reminding you of the man standing in front of you, the tension growing big in your stomach.

“You’re standing very close,” you mutter under your nose when you notice his and your thighs touching, hearing as he hums at your remark.

“Do you not like it?”

“I–” you stutter, cheeks only further heatening at the question, “that’s not what I said.”

“See,”  he snickers, “I’m standing in perfect proximity, then.”

Eyes hesitantly jumping to his face, seeing him looking down at you with warm eyes and a teasing glint in his smile, your heartbeat quickens even more, slowly starting to match the rhythm of the corn popping in the microwave. His hand still on your hip, the contact of it with your clothed skin burning, you’re suddenly finding it really hard to keep your nerves down, swallowing harshly before you open your mouth to speak up or else you’re going to go crazy.

“Jaemin–”

“Can you admit that to yourself?” he cuts you off, suddenly, face curious and a little more hesitant than before. Looking at him with confusion in your eyes, he repeats the question. “That this is a date. Can you… can you admit that to yourself, Y/N?”

Blinking a few times at the strange inquiry, you stutter again, your thoughts running back and forth in your brain too fastly for you to catch up with them. “I– well, I–”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Jaemin snickers again. “I was told that you’re a bit oblivious, and that I should probably be more direct with my actions, because of… obvious reasons…” he chuckles, “so if you needed confirmation, I’d think of this as a date. And the lunch we had together before as well, if that wasn’t clear enough… I originally wanted to play it more subtly, but I realized that I should maybe change my ways for you to get me, so…  if you don’t want this to be a date, just tell me. I just thought I should tell you.”

Gasping at his words, you shake your head in clear disapproval, suddenly too worried about him getting the wrong message. “It’s– I was hoping… this was a date? I– I mean–”

The man in front of you visibly relaxes, giggling at your reaction. His heartfelt laughter makes the mood lighter again– the knot in your stomach loosening a little only for a bit, before the man catches you off guard with another question, his face inching dangerously close to you.

“Do you do kisses on first dates, then?”

Breath shaking, eyes shifting from his deep eyes to the plush skin of his lips, you mumble out a reply. “I mean… by what you just said, this is not really a first date, so…”

“Does that mean I can kiss you?” 

Gaping into his face, you nod– barely visible, but it’s there and it’s enough of a confirmation– before your eyes are shut in expectation and his soft lips land on yours, the sweetness of candy mixing in with the saccharine nature of his personality, gentle presses to your parted mouth making your knees week with bliss. Your hands hesitantly find their place on his neck, bringing him closer when he tries to pull away, earning yourself a smile from the male that you can feel in the kiss, the knot in your stomach fully disappearing and morphing into lightness and gentle fluttering. 

Feeling the man sucking on your bottom lip and gently pinching the skin of your hip that he’s still kneading in between his fingers, you squeal into the contact as he gently hosts you up onto the kitchen counter, lips attacking yours only breaking apart when the microwave goes off and you try to catch your breath in between hungry kisses. 

“Jaemin–”

“Hm?” he hums as his lips occupy themselves with your jaw instead, seeing as you’re meaning to talk right now and he’s a gentleman– he doesn’t want to break your words.

“The popcorn’s done,” you sigh, his lips only reaching further down your neck, not really paying attention to anything you’re saying, only responding with a content hum of acknowledgment. Seeing as he doesn’t really care– and neither do you, honestly, with his lips so magically attached to your skin– you let yourself indulge in the action again, tugging him back towards your face by his chin and connecting your lips once again, firm kisses exchanged between the two of you as his hands stay secure on the curve of your hips.

Fingers threading into the hair on his nape, you chuckle into the kiss when he talks in between, annoying you and amusing you at the same time– since you can’t get enough of his mouth, but still find his words kind of funny. “Oh look, it only took this long for you to realize I have a crush on you…”

Tired of his teasing, you shake your head in disbelief as you decide to move your lips away from his mouth, but rather pressing them along his jaw, just the way he did only a few seconds ago, shyly, yet determinately attaching yourself to his neck, pressing soft kisses steadily in between more hungrier ones, admiring the redness of his skin when you part away from him and see the wet spots you just attacked. “Can’t say it wasn’t worth it, though,” he hums as you seemingly find his soft spot, his whole body reacting as he squirms under you and moves you so you’re back against his lips, the contact more heated and rushed.

His hand slowly teases the edge of your shirt, cold fingertips drumming across your belly, and the further up he moves, the more goosebumps appear all over your back, pressing yourself closer to him on the uncomfortable kitchen counter.

“I know Yizhuo said no shagging on the kitchen counter, but I mean…” he hums as his hand reaches the hem of your bra, “what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, am I right?” 

Giggling at his comment, you momentarily contemplate to giving in to the temptation, but a loud noise coming from the living room is enough to wake you up back to your senses, the sound of the movie acting as a wake up call, causing your whole body to jump and shrug Jaemin’s hands off you; his swollen lips and flushed cheeks on your full display when you gape at him.

“The movie’s playing?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he nods, “forgot to tell you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me! I explained that you can’t pause it, now we have to load it again because rewinding it does the same,” you mourn, pushing him a little further away from you so you can jump off the counter and chime into the living room, his footsteps following you.

“I mean, I thought this was much more entertaining than the movie, but okay,” he says, causing you to playfully swat him on the shoulder before you close the tab and reopen it again, shoving him towards the kitchen instead.

“Go and get the popcorn out. I’ll load it back up, since you’re totally useless at the art of pirating,” you chime, rolling his eyes at him, battling back the grin that’s threatening to settle onto your features all while you’re trying to calm down the erratic beating of your heart.

And when the movie finally plays and you let yourself settle against Jaemin’s figure on the sofa, content with his arms around your middle and the occasional comments he lets out at the scenes rolling on the screen, you find yourself wondering how after all of this, this is the way you end up with him– spontaneously and totally unprepared.

A scene of Peter Parker appears on your laptop, the man in the red spider suit shooting webs to the top of the building to get MJ into safety, making a bubbly laugh heave out of Jaemin’s throat. “I wish I had those when I had to carry you drunk to the top floor,” he teases.

“Oh shut up, you did that to yourself,” you roll your eyes, reminding yourself of the day with much despair in your memory.

“And what was I supposed to do, leave you there?” he chuckles. “Besides, I quite liked the journey. Didn’t even mind that it took so long… it made the top floor feel like a big reward, you know,” he says, and when he looks at you from the corner of his eye, his orbs warming up like hot chocolate,

you swear there’s a metaphor– hell, a life lesson– somewhere in there.

[shocymer]

121U. 「 Want To Want You 」

"Accidentally crash in to the afterparty of your college football club. There's not a single thought that you end up making out with their hot quarterback."

Pairing : Baekhyun × afab! reader

Word counts : 1.5k

Contents & Warning : suggestive, university! AU, football player! Baekhyun, strangers to lovers, inspired by Day6 -121U.

× Happy late-Birthday, Baekhyun! × | masterlist | a cup of ☕

“Where? Huh? Your major’s festival? Okay okay I’ll be there, I’ll call you back later.” Hanging up the call with your bestie, you rushed up to her faculty building.

Now is 11 p.m. In fact, your best friend asked you to join her since the afternoon. But you've need to gather some reference books in the library first. Too immersed in it, you can’t believe it's almost midnight already.

Isn't it too lively at this late hour? Many tents were still set up firmly, decorated with vivid hanging lamps on each booth. There are still a lot of visitors coming in and out. Feels so different on the first time you set foot here, especially seeing the unusual views. Yeah you admit that you’re not such an update student when it’s come to campus events. Seems like what your best friend said is true, you need to have a little fun at least during your college year.

‘Ding’ a notification sound lit up your phone screen under your grasp. A simple text message showed up the second you are tapping on it.

(Bestie) bae don't call me, my phone is nearly dying. Oh I’m in the blue one! Cya xoxoxo

Ah, seriously? You thought while typing a quick reply.

(You) mkayy

Whether you’re tired or something, the first thing you do is looking for a blue tent just like what 'you assume' she said. As far as the eye could see, there’s no sign of a blue tent around. You let out a deep sigh before decided to left the festival area. Thinking that it will be easier to find those place outside rather than in there.

Once taking a few steps out of the entrance gate, you see a beam of blue light radiating in the corner of the groups of tents. You approach where the light initially came from in confidence. Hoping to find your best friend then drag her home right away. But after you are getting closer, seems like it came through from a different place, which turned out to be separated from the festival booths. However, you still give it a go. Who knows she might be there, right?

The vibe is obviously too contrast, a faint upbeat music began to be heard clearly as you slowly enter the tent. Lot of unfamiliar faces are busy talking to each other. At the time like this, you regret not to be friends with another major students long before.

Beyond your expectation, the tent is connected to a building you've never been to. The deeper you go, the blue light becomes denser. You look around, groups of supposed to be female students surrounded each of male students, having an exhilarating convo that you still unsure about. But It’s giving a party to celebrate something. A slight hint of alcohol odor is also filled the room made you so sure of it. Your curiosity is answered once you saw a pile of football helmet proudly placed at the corner along with a big trophy next to it.

Well, it looks like you got lost here. Automatically shook your head after thinking of how this party coincides with the festival outside. You intended to get out as soon as possible. Alas, the group of girls you saw earlier simultaneously ran after one of the football players, till you pushed to the side.

Hand grabbed the door handle in reflex as you tried to stand still, “crazy, how famous are these guys here?” You said irritably.

Little did you know there’s someone next to you, chuckling at your words. His long fingers covered the thin lips of his, trying to muffle the laughter. Those voice was so satisfactionaly crisp that it tickled your ears. He stopped doing so after both of your eyes met.

Breathtaking. is the first word that comes to your mind. The way those eye smile formed when he is laughing despite a few strands of damp hair subtly covered it. His tall and quite slender figures caught your eyes the most. You can’t believe with those delicate look, he is literally one of them as the game jersey still wrapped around his torso perfectly fit. You stare at him in awe, wondering how pretty his pair of orbs can be if there’s a chance to looking at it up-close.

“Are you okay?” He asked after realizing you were lost in thought for a moment.

“Y-Yeah I’m totally fine.”

Leaning closer to you, he raised his voice a little bit right next to your ear. “But you don’t seem so. Perhaps, do you need something to drink?”

You're the one who's gone crazy, the music has been this loud ever since. How can you mesmerized at this man to the point you could caught his laughter so clearly before. You tried to collect your own sanity before lean over to him,

“No thanks, there’s only booze that I see around.”

His mouth form an “A” shape for a couple of seconds, before fully suggested you something, “I have some water. If you don’t mind, c’mere.”

You nodded as following his back behind, opening the door that you held for your dear life a few minutes ago, which is the football team’s locker room. Even this room decorated with much darker blue light just to match the party vibes. At least your hearing is saved as only less loud music can be heard outside.

He handed you a black metallic water bottle, “I never see you before.”

“Uhm well, actually my faculty is 5 buildings away from here. So.. Yeah” You gulped down the water that he offer to you. “Thanks by the way.”

“Sure no problems.”

After that only silence remained, the mood’s shifting undeniably fast. Looking at how awkward both of you right now. You pay close attention to what is printed on his back. ‘Baekhyun’ and number ‘04’ are visibly written on it. Sometimes he took a glance at you only to catch you red-handed staring at him so intent. Feeling like a blood rushed up to his head, he's too shy to say anything. He decided to brush it aside by ruffling his still damped hair.

Your fingertips itching to reach his front bangs while blurting out few words under your sense, “you’ll catch a cold if you don’t dry your hair properly.”

As your hand nearly touch his hair, he grab it swift motion. “Just.. don’t touch it.”

“Ah sorry I didn’t mea-”

Before you succeed pulling your hand back, he brought it to his cheek while keeping the eye contact with you. Slowly, his lips putting a soft kisses by the end of your palm. “Can you dry it off for me?”

Without a single thought, you reach an unclaimed towel that’s neatly folded on the bench. Then stretching out your hands to dry his hair off as you positioned yourself face to face along to him. At first you actually did that heartily. But after you realized he didn't let go of his gaze towards you as if you would disappear at any moment, your rationality poofs away.

Too dangerous. Your heart beats goes up in rapid speed. If it’s not under the dim light the flushed cheeks of yours would definitely be seen by him,

“why.. you keep staring at me like that?”

“Because I want to.”

“What If.. I want you?” Fingers squeezing through the hem of slightly wet cloth that cling on top his head as you expected perhaps a rejection.

“Well, If that’s the case,” he tucked your hair behind your ear, “I will let you have me.”

His index finger lifted your chin, demanding an eye contact meanwhile his other hand busy untangled your clenched digits to be interlocked with his. Bodies lean forward, the tip of lips are nearly touching, the scent of soft linen and a hint of floral mixed into one only to tease your sense of smell. His warm breath sparked the overflowing desire,

“Please.. don’t tease me..”

He chuckled with head hanging low for a mere seconds before his deep brown orbs seeking through into yours for once again, “first I need to know your name, young lady.” While planting a quick kiss on the back of your hand.

Your lips trembled, stumbling upon the word by word of your own government name which ended up make him burst in laughter. He find you too cute to be true. “Your name is beautiful, just like you.”

He pulled you into deep yet passionate kisses. A slight of naughty smile formed on his lips, the way he felt your body shudder as soon as his fingers running from the nape of your neck down to the lower back. Moving in painfully slow motion.

Head’s going blank, eyelids are too heavy to open, you murmured between the making out session under your control. “But.. I’m not as beautiful as you Baekhyun..”

Out of everyone’s encounter him in romantic ways, you’re the one and only who’s flatter him using the word ‘beautiful’ at such timing. He couldn’t help, hiding an ear to ear smile against your shoulder. Till his soft whisper blown into your sensitive ear.

“Just wait, I will prove you wrong after this.” following by a michievous wink in the end.

a.n. I know it's a sudden baekhyun fic because I miss him lately after I rewatch exo's killing voice T.T He's my ult bias in exo and I really want to tell him that he's so beautiful, gorgeous, spectacular, amazing, breathtaking, scrumptious, immaculate + other praises following behind. Oh well, Happy Birthday Byun Baekhyun! ♡

[cupidseok]

things that evoke memories of riize

💒 — SHOTARO AS

the bittersweet tug of homesickness, the aromatic smell of freshly ground coffee beans that first hits you upon stepping into a cafe, unexpectedly meeting a high school friend you really missed on the streets, the solace found in being able to comfort you, the warmth of sunlight kissing your skin, ties with cute little patterns on them, the click of film cameras while taking photos of you, the lingering feeling after a hug, getting bungeoppang in the winter and chatting with the street vendor while waiting for his order, carrot cakes, a large collection of bucket hats, love countdown by nayeon, wonstein

🩰 — EUNSEOK AS

soft ballad music playing in the background, the gentle warmth of intertwined hands, early morning strolls, the adrenaline rush coursing through you while riding roller coasters, holding hands in haunted houses, long facetime calls spent in silence, brushing his lips over your forehead, trembling lips as he lets himself be vulnerable to you for the first time, exploring a place he has never been before, the feeling that you’re going to know each other for a long time, a handsome stranger you saw on an overseas trip once and never again, watching studio ghibli films together, carbonara pasta, breathe by lauv

💭 — SUNGCHAN AS

texts to check if you’ve eaten, greeting dogs that pass by, wandering aimlessly in an art museum, purposely stepping in a puddle of water just to splash someone, playfully fighting you for the tv remote but letting you win in the end, opening jars for you even though you can do it yourself, letting him play with your hair until it’s all tangled, the chime of school bells signalling the day’s end, taking photos with friends on the last day of school, the soft brush of elbows while writing side by side, keeping your hair tie on his wrist, eating vanilla ice cream on sunny days, 爱你 by kimberley chen

✨ — WONBIN AS

late night walks under the moonlit sky, someone’s hand slipping in yours, dark chocolate, dazzle of fireworks illuminating the night, reflecting on his eyes, learning how to play a new instrument, a faceless photo of you and him on his lockscreen, watching a drama together and rooting for different male leads, putting on a facade of toughness to impress you, gently reassuring him that perfection isn’t always necessary, clothes that fit you just right, love at first sight, matching earrings, only letting you touch his guitar, the reluctance to bite into cute chinese piggy steamed buns, wish you were sober by conan gray

💌 — SEUNGHAN AS

sweet goodnight texts, good luck charms handmade with endearing clumsiness, trying new food, finding something you thought you lost, autum leaves rustling in the wind, holding the door open for you, exchanging affectionate words endlessly, winning a soft toy at an amusement park on the first try, patiently teaching you how to play games, looking through his photoalbum when he misses you, doodling shinchan on the corners of your worksheet, taking a bite of your spicy bibimmyeon, then complaining that it was too spicy for him, die for you by the weeknd, ariana grande

👒 — SOHEE AS

shopping for caps together, a tranquil morning greeted by a gentle breeze, buying a new fuzzy blanket, curtains billowing in the wind, waiting for you to come home to him, the comfort of oversized plain white shirts and grey joggers, playing rock paper scissors to divide household chores, needing to pause and go outside for a breather every time he realises how down bad he is for you, trying to order a kids meal at a restaurant and getting embarrassed after the waiter doesn’t allow it, getting tteokbokki together after school, candy by baekhyun

🎧 — ANTON AS

wired earphones connected to an mp3 player, warm beach towels, trying to make an asmr video, eating cake off the floor so you wouldn’t feel bad for dropping it, constantly sending you tiktoks that remind him of you, water parks on hot summer days, classical music, old books with yellowed pages and worn covers, putting on sheet masks together, reading children’s storybooks for you to help you fall asleep, making eye contact across the room, the moment where you realise that he feels the exact same way that you feel at the same moment, snow on the beach by taylor swift, lana del rey

© cupidseok — do not copy / repost / translate my works

[naoristerling]

Yeosang fic rec

Entropy (k.ys) | 21.3k @in-san-ity

Hacker yeo X reader mafia

things never went according to plan; career wise, family wise, relationship wise and especially not when you were suddenly saddled with an infant to raise but you learned to roll with the punches. except the next challenge you were about to face wasn't a punch, it was a machine gun.

Fated

Alma gêmea

Siren | 27,8k @sorryimananti-romantic

yeosang is a siren and you're a siren-hunter. he may have lost his voice and you may be immune to a siren's call, but he has you bewitched anyway. on your journey together to find the sirens who killed your parents and took his voice, you make new friends, find yourself cursed and turning into a siren, and fall for yeosang. he proves time and time again that he's not the monster you thought all sirens to be as he helps you come to terms with yourself and find the person who cursed you.

Freaks || Kang Yeosang | 3,4k @mingigoo

after being friends for ten years, your triad friendship with Yeosang and Wooyoung is falling apart, all because of a simple game—spin the bottle.

Cosmos | 18k @pirateprincessblog

centuries ago, humans detected a signal from an asteroid with a collision probability of 1-in-1,200. unwilling to gamble with humanity's future, they decided to evacuate. thus, kang yeosang finds himself aboard a spaceship, nestled in a sleeping pod among thousands of other slumbering passengers. the destination appears distant, and everyone remains asleep. just why is the young man awake then?

ʀᴜᴘᴛᴜʀᴇᴅ ᴄᴏɴꜱᴛᴇʟʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ | 3k @the-midnight-blooms

Dreams soulmate au

Other members

San

destiny. | 25k @tainsan

waking up in the past is a disorienting experience. what’s even worse is it seems like you’re the only person in the world who is experiencing it. so when all of a sudden, a distressed man shows up claiming he has also woken up in the past. you realise he may be the key to your way home, yet he also just so happens to be a member from your favourite kpop group, ateez.

Champagne Problems | ? @mingigoo

after finding out your dad set you up in an arranged marriage that you wanted no part of, the only thing you could think of is claiming you already had a lover. To prove it, you kissed a complete stranger in front of him at your engagement party—a stranger you knew your dad wouldn’t approve of.

blushing red. | 11k @atozfic

how did choi san go from wanting to protect you like a big brother to wanting to ruin you with his own two hands? ( part of the rainbow riots anthology series. )

Overdrive | 18k @atozfic

His favourite | 12k @k-hotchoisan

Seongwa

Bodyguard | 37,8k @baekhvuns

in which his task is to be your bodyguard, his mob-boss’s daughter. where he not only guards you but also guards your body.

rewrite the stars | 24k @baekhyun-ah

in which you runway to escape an alliance accompanied by an unknown man named park seonghwa.

Arrow in the dark | 65k

Your quiet life of working at a convenience store is upended when ultra wealthy Seonghwa convinces you to pretend to be his girlfriend for one night in order to fool his parents.

Playing with fire | 200+k @ateezmakemeweep

Age gap

when your scholarship falls through during the last semester of your college career, you were, admittedly, on edge.

overwhelmed by the prospect of delaying your graduation to save up thousands of dollars or work a second job or, per the suggestion of your roommate, sell pictures of your feet.

you first met park eunbi during your first year of college, when she walked through your dorm room with a smile on her face and her parents by her side - or, more notably to you, her incredibly handsome father.

that’s all he ever was to you though - your friend’s hot dad who you only ever saw a few times a year.

but when you find yourself around him more and more often, your attraction growing and his eyes lingering, you suddenly find yourself in a situation you know is wrong but can’t seem to pull yourself out of.

Hongjoong

needle to the heart | 7k @pirateprincessblog

wedding planning seemed stressful and difficult on tv and in the stories of your friends and family. your first one was, indeed, stressful and difficult. so much that it took you less than ten minutes to discard your wedding dress, undo your hair, and call a cab. this time will be different. with a different approach. in a different city. with a different man.

look after you || k.hj (m.) | 10k @mingigoo

after a long night at work with little to no sleep, you nearly doze off on your way home, hitting a tattooed, spikey-haired guy in the middle of the road. Panicking, you run out to help him and go with him to the hospital, only to lie and say he was your husband so you could go back with him. Well, when he woke up, he didn't exactly take it the way you thought he would...

Overdrive | 18k @atozfic

a lonely artist finds himself in need of some human contact, so he joins a dating app but with a very specific request: he doesn’t want a relationship, he wants the experience of one. when someone contacts him, interested and willing to aid him in his search for artistic inspiration, the rules quickly become simple: no real names, no personal details, no feelings. so what the hell is kim hongjoong supposed to do when he catches himself daydreaming about their future together?- or, can you fall in love with a stranger?

Your Gentle Hands (They Feel Like Home To Me). || Kim Hongjoong. [ Part I ] | 31k @yourlocaljonghoe

meeting the local outcast shouldn't have ended with you slowly falling for him. yet you did, all while knowing you could never have this man, because you were already someones else's wife. two lovers, a dress shop, and a violent man between it all. we all know how this ends, right? ... right?

New World | 27k @sorryimananti-romantic

you've always known the crown prince was just a little power hungry, however, when you offer to kill the king for him as part of your big scheme to end the monarchy, you didn't realise he'd be ecstatic about it. while you etch out an elaborate plan to get more obstacles out of the way, you start enjoying his company just a little too much. it ultimately clouds your judgement and becomes the cause of your downfall, though... if you go down, he goes down with you :D

what lies beneath | k.hj | 13k @noramoons

there’s a pair of eyes blinking up at you from below the pier. you think you know who (or what, really) they belong to—but you might be too afraid to admit it.

The secret garden | 13k @yoonguurt

Spring brings with it the need for a change. You're in a writing rut and that just can't happen right now. You decided to spend a few months with your aunt at her massive garden estate. for the first time in 10 years. Dreams of a boy you don't remember become a nightly thing. Who is this boy?

TWTHH Spinoff: Stitched Hearts | 14k @edenesth

Throughout his entire career, Hongjoong has received nothing but praise for his work. Never once had anyone suggested his dresses were anything short of perfection. That is, until he met the youngest daughter of the Baek household—the family's black sheep, an enigmatic spinster whom he found utterly confounding.

Lust is in the Air | 6.5k ❤️‍🔥 @bananayuyu

Your best friend drags you along to a family wedding, wanting to add some fun to your all too serious life. Turns out her uncle is the one who really provides the distraction.

One-shot I ?k ❤️‍🔥 @sugawhaaa

Eita que ele tá bravo

𝔐𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔇𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔯 𝔐𝔞𝔫 | ok @holybibly

You've always had expensive taste. So when you meet a gorgeous older man in a bar with the most ravenous feline eyes and diabolical smile, you can't resist the urge to taste him. You let him take you back to his place and give you the most unforgettable night of your life.

[arabelladeclan]

stray kids: discography

i remember getting very confused about their song releases and just the discography in general, so i compiled official releases in one post.

stray kids also have multiple songs only released on youtube, usually under "SKZ-RECORD", which means they're not on albums (or spotify). these are the ones:

ORIGINALS (only on youtube):

DRIVE - CHAN, LEE KNOW

UP ALL NIGHT - 오늘 밤 나는 불을 켜 - SEUNGMIN, FELIX, CHANGBIN, CHAN

MAKNAE ON TOP - 막내온탑 - I.N, feat. CHAN, CHANGBIN

LITTLE STAR - 꼬마별 - HYUNJIN

ICE CREAM - HYUNJIN

STREET LIGHT - CHANGBIN feat. CHAN

CLOSE - HAN

HAPPY - HAN

WISH YOU BACK - HAN

조각 (SCULPTURE) - CHANGBIN, SEUNGMIN

좋으니까 (BECAUSE I LOVE YOU) - CHANGBIN, FELIX

외계인 (ALIEN) - HAN

찬스 (CHANCE) - FELIX, CHAN

한 번 더 리플레이 (ICE AMERICANO) - LEE KNOW, HAN

빵꿀즈 (YEAH BOSS) - I.N, CHANGBIN

0티격태격 (TEASING) - HYUNKIN, SEUNGMIN "잔소리 대마왕 (KING OF NAGGING)"

인정하기 싫어 (I HATE TO ADMIT IT) - CHAN

CYPHER - CHANGBIN

I GOT IT - HAN

not to mention 3RACHA, a sub-unit constituted by CHAN, CHANGBIN AND HAN, (who go by different names: CB97, SPEARB, J.ONE) also have their own tracks on separate releases, one of them named ZONE. i'll just leave the link for their official channel because everything is there and neatly organized. click here to see 3RACHA's stuff.

there are also OST (original soundtracks) that weren't released as singles or single albums, like TOP, so these are the ones i found:

POP UP BOY!: HELLO STRANGER (STRAY KIDS)

LOVE IN CONTRACT: CLOSE TO YOU (SEUNGMIN)

EXTRAORDINARY YOU: NEVER ENDING STORY (also translated as "story that won't end") (STRAY KIDS)

HOMETOWN CHA-CHA-CHA: HERE ALWAYS (SEUNGMIN)

TOWER OF GOD: TOP (STRAY KIDS)

TOWER OF GOD: SLUMP (STRAY KIDS)

these are collabs i know exist:

GOING DUMB - ALESSO X STRAY KIDS X CORSAK

JUST BREATHE - SKY-HI feat. 3RACHA (CHAN, CHANGBIN, HAN)

MIRROR MIRROR - F.HERO x MILLI feat. CHANGBIN

NO PROBLEM - NAYEON (TWICE) feat. FELIX

COVERS:

they have covered tons of songs, from voice to choreos, whether on studios or live, and it's a little impossible to compile all of them, but i'll be completing this list as i come across them:

(most of the covers in this list came from a video i found, by user Cray K, and it's from january, 2019, so they are featured on the same video):

AS IF IT'S YOUR LAST - (originally by BLACKPINK)

GO CRAZY + HANDS UP - (originally by 2PM)

NEW FACE - (originally by PSY)

WARRIOR'S DESCENDANT - (originally by H.O.T)

IT'S RAINING - (originally by RAIN)

DANCE THE NIGHT AWAY - (originally by TWICE)

WHO'S YOUR MAMA -(originally by JYP)

GOODBYE BABY - (originally by MISS A)

LOOK - (originally by GOT7)

DNA - (originally by BTS)

HARD CARRY - (originally by GOT7)

GROWL + OVERDOSE - (originally byEXO)

DIONYSIUS - (originally by BTS)

BANG, BANG, BANG - (originally by BIG BANG)

FANCY - (originally by TWICE)

MY HOUSE - (originally by 2PM)

ADORE U - (originally by SEVENTEEN)

LIKE OOH AHH - (originally by TWICE)

AGAIN & AGAIN - (originally by 2PM)

HISTORY OF K-POP: Stray Kids X NCT DREAM (featuring felix' iconic "BOOM SHAKA LAKA, WOW FANTASTIC" that you see everywhere)

INDIVIDUAL/TWO PEOPLE COVERS: it also includes other people that were featuring the songs. these might get confusing because most titles are in korean, but i did my best to find the original artists' names romanized and the songs' titles:

위로 ("consolation) |artist: 권진아 = KWON JIN-AH |cover by I.N

GHOST |artist: Justin Bieber| cover by SEUNGMIN

ZOMBIE |artist: DAY6 - cover by HAN, SEUNGMIN

향기만 남아 ("memory of your scent") |artist: 허각 = HUH GAK - covered by I.N

3108 |artist: 하현상 = HA HYUNSANG |cover by SEUNGMIN

LOVE AGAIN |artist: 백현 = BAEKHYUN - covered by SEUNGMIN

너였다면 ("if it is you")/ artist: 정승환 = JUNG SEUNG-HWAN - covered by I.N

시작 ("start") |artist: 가호 = GAHO |cover by SEUNGMIN

그렇게 있어 줘 ("stay as you are") |artist: 산들 - SANDEUL |cover by SEUNGMIN

CONGRATULATIONS |artist: DAY6 |cover by HAN, SEUNGMIN

예뻤어 ("you were beatiful") |artist: DAY6 |covered by SEUNGMIN

ME! |artist: Taylor Swift |covered by Tzuyu (from TWICE feat. CHAN)

PSYCHO |artist: Red Velvet |covered by HYUNJIN (SKZ), SANHA (ASTRO), BOMIN (GOLDEN CHILD), DAEHWI AB6IX

여름 안에서("in summer) |artist: DEUX |covered by FELIX, 우기 (SONG YUQI), 영훈 (THE BOYZ)

"TOMORROW" |artist: ? |covered by CHANGBIN (on masked singer)

CITY OF STARS |artist: ? |covered by FELIX, LIA (ITZY), CHAN

there's a bunch of other covers made in variety shows besides live performances, so i'm just gonna leave this link for you to see everything is compiled.

[peachesvanilla]

Dancing with a stranger

description: A red string binds soulmates together, it never breaks or cut or dies down. In a world of pure love and hookups, what if your soulmate turns out to be the person you least expected? What if that person is your professor? Amidst desperation and constant reminder of the red string tying them together, will it get its happy ending or ends up in chaos or worst, with a hook up.

pairings: Baekhyun x reader (a surprise pairing if there's gonna be another part)

genres: angst, soulmate au, professor!Baekhyun, student!reader, age gap

warnings: unedited

taglist: @archernarbeta

part-1

I thought pain was getting scolded by my parents till high school, getting low grades till now. Failing in classes, falling behind everyone is the worst thing one can imagine, no, I can imagine. Never once have I thought that waking up one day to find out I won’t ever get my happy ending will feel like the world crashing.

If soulmates aren’t bound to be one then why are they soulmates? Why will there be a red string attached like a dreaded reminder? 

Ten year old me dreamt of holding hands with my soulmate after reading the fairy tale and walking into the happy ending just like the two soulmates in the story. Red string wrapping around us, air filled with magic, happiness and love. 

Fifteen year old me dreamt of crashing into him and falling into his arms like my parents. Maybe seal the divine meeting with a kiss. Perfect meet. One for the books. 

But as imaginative and hopeful one can be, life always throws you off track. Before him every pain I went through falls short. It ain’t even a single scratch compared to getting ignored by him. 

“Aren’t you coming to class?” Hyejin asks once again, concern written all over her face. “I know what you are going through but,” she holds my arm, “you can’t abandon everything. You need to pass his course to get into another semester.” 

I break away from her touch, sucking in a deep breath. “Yeah. I’ll come.” My voice breaks no matter how hard I try to act strong. It doesn’t matter anymore. He doesn’t care and now I don’t either. Going to the class must get easier now since a month has passed. I can sit in the class, look at him and not feel like dying. I haven’t known him for twenty one years and I can live without him for another forty. 

Hyejin perks up from getting a positive response. “Really? For real you are going to come into the class with me?” She holds my hand again, a bounce in her legs. “Thank god, I am so worried seeing you pine on him for weeks. I am happy you are getting back on track.”

I nod and she continues giving pep talk. “He ain’t that..” she trails off scratching her temple, “hotshot for you to waste your time on?” 

I snort, who is she kidding? There must be millions of girls ready to give up their soulmates if they can be with him. Even if it’s for only a single day. The girls in his cabin in the pretence of doubts but to just gawk at him some more. 

I flip onto my stomach away from Hyejin, blinking my tears away. The red string glows up the brightest it has ever been. I hate you. 

—

Fellow students standing outside the classroom gasps beside me, cupping their mouths and eyes shining brighter than the sun. I follow their gaze only to end up shattering all the courage I piled up. Mr.Byun is walking down the hallway, streaks of midday sunlight falling on him through the windows bringing out his fierce features more. Sharp eyes trained straight on the classroom, hair perfectly styled yet his authoritative steps makes a strand fall out onto his forehead. 

Hyejin groans and I look down at my shoes, dirt at the edges. We are different. Different age, different world and different perspectives. I can’t do this. I need to go. 

Mr.Byun walks past us before I can slip away and reminds us, “class is starting.”

I turn around and leave. Not today. Some other day I’ll be indifferent to everything about him. 

The red string around my little finger glows brighter, the string stretching more and more as the distance between us grows further. 

I read about the reason behind the sudden glow on the internet after yesterday’s sudden glow. It happens when the other person is thinking about you, not just a mere thought but borderline obsessed. 

I stop in my tracks, staring at it. Why? Why does he think about me when he doesn't even pay attention? It’s the second time. If only I can cut it off or tear it off or make it disappear then the pain will be less. There won’t be any hopes rising. His existence won’t hurt as much. 

—

“You can’t mop around your entire life!” Hyejin slams my room door open. It hits my wall, rattling the photo frames hung on it. “Do you think you are the only one going through it? Getting rejected by the soulmate is so common that the government had to set up campaigns and promote the benefits of being with soulmates.”

I flip over to my right side covering my duvet till my head. I can’t have another day spent listening to her giving a lecture. I already had enough from my parents. 

“God! I can’t with you.” She huffs, dragging my duvet away. “Wake up for fuck’s sake.” 

“Language!” My mother screams from the living room. 

She bites on her tongue before dropping on top of me. I groan under her weight. “You should consider yourself lucky, what if you went into the relationship and broke it off because he can’t understand your jokes due to the age difference. Who wants an old man anyway?”

“Get off.” I shove her to the side and bury myself deeper into the duvet. “We are destined to be, Hyejin. Do you know what that means? Even if he doesn’t know current trends, he will understand what I am feeling, what I am saying and what I,” I sit up, the duvet falling off my head. “am going through. The pain, the heartbreak, everything, everything. I know he knows what I am feeling now and what I want,” I raise my little finger, “because this doesn’t stop glowing.”

Hyejin's face softens, holding my hand she strokes my palm tenderly. “But baby, I heard it goes two ways. You are thinking about him too aren't you? That might be—”

“No.” I shake her hand off me, “you don’t understand. It's not one way. I know he wants to be with me. If not why would he be waiting till now? He could have hooked up with someone,  anyone. He can have girls with a snap of his fingers. But he didn’t.”

Hyejin flinches, averting her eyes away from me. “About that,” she sucks in a deep breath, “this isn’t confirmed but some student claimed that she saw Mr.Byun kissing some woman last saturday.”

“W-wha..” My lips quiver, tears falling down in an endless stream blurring my vision. “I-I do-don’t.. what?” 

She holds my palm pressing it firmly. “And,” her eyes soften as she says, “he wants you to meet him tomorrow.”

It’s too much. Everything is hitting me at once. Finding him, rejection, kissing another girl, wanting to meet. What is he really thinking? I close my eyes, sucking in a long breath. Is there any hope? I don’t think there will be any left. What if he meets me tomorrow and finds me attractive even a little, causing him to change his mind? But he is kissing someone else. That isn’t confirmed yet. 

I clutch my head, too many thoughts, and yet can’t come to one conclusion. Is he, is he playing with me? What if the rumour is true? It hasn’t been that long and yet he is looking for hookups? Does age play that important role? It’s not like I’m an underage girl. 

“You need not have to go.” Hyejin breaks in my train wreck of thoughts, saving me. “You can skip and just bear with him for two more months and we will be done with the semester.”

“I need to think about it.” 

“You don’t have to push yourself.” She pats my hair down. “Just move on from him and,” she points her thumb at my computer, “stop searching for soulmate reconciliation stories. Everyone’s different.” 

I nod not really listening to her. Should I meet him or not? 

—

I pace around the hallway, biting my nails while sneaking anxious glances at the closed cabin door. The cabin area is eerily silent today, amplifying the sound of my heart beat. What if he changed he is not there or worse what if he is occupied with some other girl. 

The door to his cabin opens up with a squeak, startling me out of my anxieties. “Come in.” Mr. Byun leaves the door open, not before his eyes run all over my face. Did his eyes turn droopier than they have already been. 

He sits on the edge of the table, clasping his hands on his lap. His shoulders sagged, a small smile on his pink lips and bags under his eyes. His entire room smells of a mix of vanilla and something stronger than the delicate vanilla.  

“Have a seat.” He pushes the chair beside his legs, patiently waiting for me. 

I settle down on the chair, waiting for him to speak. Please be good news. Tell me you are going to be my man. Please. Please, I beg fate with my entire heart in utter desperation. 

Mr.Byun gives a painful half smile like he heard my prayers. “How are you doing?” 

The unimpressed thin line of his lips, his jumpy attention from me to the door leaves me with scenarios bugging my mind. Why is he constantly looking at the door? Does he want me to leave already? Or is he scared someone might walk in? 

The thought alone leaves a sour taste in my mouth, my chest feels stuffy and my heart doesn’t slow down for a second. I clutch the chair handle in hopes of some support will help me in staying still and not lose my sight and ball up. 

Mr.Byun frowns at my hand holding the handle, he chews on his lower lip. “Are you okay?”

“Why did you want to meet me, Mr.Byun?” I level my voice, straightening up and faking my confidence. I can’t let him see more of my pathetic state than I already displayed the last few days. 

He blinks in surprise, opens his mouth and closes a few times. He sighs, his shoulders slouching and addresses the main reason he called me in for. “I felt like a jerk after treating you harshly when I.. when we…” his eyes fall on his pinky finger, the red string comes to life, to the other end wrapped around mine, “found out.” 

His voice falls to a whisper like sharing a secret even the walls shouldn’t hear. My heart tears a little on the edges. 

“Only then?” I raise my chin, looking straight in his eyes. “What about now?” 

He averts his attention to the wall behind me. “You need to understand me too, kiddo. We are like years apart,” he flails his hands around lost in explanation, “I wasn’t expecting this, more like, you to be my partner.”

My heart tears more and more with every word leaving his mouth. 

He gasps realising his true feelings slipped out. “I-I.. didn’t mean it in a bad way. I just read somewhere that fate pairs people who complement each other.”

He slides down from the table, his thigh brushes my arm in the process. My heart tingles at the touch, a wave of calmness spreads across me, my shivering hands pause. I close my eyes feeling the peace even for a second. 

I opened my eyes, surprised to see him standing close to me, staring at my hand. He shifts from one leg to another, cupping his mouth with one hand and holding his waist in another. Did he feel the same too? 

Will he feel a little different about me now? 

Mr.Byun walks away from me, running his hands through his perfectly styled hair. “We don’t complement each other.” 

I stare at his back, the tips of his hair poking his neck, the hints of broad shoulders when he flexes his hand, the perfectly tailored suit to his body proportions. No matter how I look at him, he is the one filling every check of the person I imagined my soulmate to be. 

“We don’t.” I lied. 

He doesn’t say anything and just stands near the door of his cabin. I dip my head, a few tears fall onto my lap. This is the end, isn’t it? He wants to have the last talk and end everything. 

“We can’t be together,” his voice is barely a whisper. “We are standing on opposite sides, kiddo, we can’t ever cross our paths.” He turns to me, leaning on the door. “This isn’t meant to be. We aren’t meant to be.” 

I nod. 

“I hope you find someone with whom you can live happily, without any constraints.” Please stop talking. “You can find love outside too. There are so many who did.” 

“That’s for me to decide, Mr.Byun.” I draw the line. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He rubs his nape, “yeah. I… wish you happiness. And please attend the classes and submit assignments. Extra credit assignments won’t be of any help anymore considering your score now.” 

I nod. 

“Do you have anything to say?” 

I stared at the side of his neck which became visible from his movements. “Cover your hickeys.” 

I pick my bag and march to the door. He gulps. “Move.” I ordered. He does. “Asshole.” Tears cascaded down my cheeks and didn't stop till I reached home. 

That night I decided to erase the line I have drawn around me. I sent a text to my friend. 

Wanna go clubbing?